Meet Me at the Lighthouse: This summer’s best laugh-out-loud romantic comedy

“Why not?”

“Give over, there’s about two foot of floor space. You could barely fit a cymbal in.”

“I bet it’s bigger than you think. Anyway, there’s plenty of room. You know, vertically.”

“What good’s that? I can’t push it over.”

“You could install platforms though. Then the music would sort of… drift up.” I stood. “Let’s stumble along a bit. Feel like I need to walk off some booze.”

He curled an arm around my shoulders as we continued our meandering way along the seafront.

“So?” I said. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s the most ridiculous idea I ever heard.” He bent to kiss the top of my head. “And you’re a ridiculous girl.”

“Ridiculous girl with a lighthouse.” I stopped walking for a moment to face him. “I’m serious, Ross. A music venue in a lighthouse: with a unique selling point like that, we’d have investors falling over themselves. Bet there’s loads of grants we could apply for, my mum’d know…” I fixed him in an earnest, drunken gaze, not quite believing what I was about to suggest but hell, diving in anyway. “Let’s do it. You and me.”

“God, you’re not even kidding, are you?”

“Nope.”

He let out a short, shocked laugh. “That’s crazy, Bobbie. I mean, seriously off-the-chart crazy. Practicality aside, we haven’t seen each other in ten years. We hardly know each other, in a lot of ways. What makes you think we could pull off something like that?”

“Nothing to lose by giving it a shot, is there?” My mouth spread into a grin. “Come on, mate. For once in your life, take a chance on something wilder than a tequila slammer.”

His brow had tightened into a thoughtful frown. “Would you really take a risk like that? On me?”

“Course. You’re a talented guy, Ross, I know you could do it. And it could be something really good for this town.” I reached out to take his hands, seeking his eyes in the dim light. “Hey. I’ll trust you if you’ll trust me. Let’s have an adventure.”

He smiled. “Well, I do trust you. Still, I don’t know… there’s the space, for one thing. And the money. Then the shape, the acoustics could be way off…”

“We can work round it.”

“But it’s your lighthouse. Your birthday lighthouse.”

“Yep. And I’m offering you, Ross Mason, your very own half-share. I’m going round your Uncle Charlie’s next week to get the deeds signed over. If you’re up for it we can ask him to put the paperwork in both our names.”

“God… is it crazy you’re actually starting to make sense?”

“Yeah, it’s crazy. Still a great idea though. Come on.” I held out my palm to him.

He looked down at it. “What’s that for?”

“You have to give me 50p. For your half. Then we can say it’s a deal.”

“Oh.” Ross fished in his pocket for some change, looking bewildered and excited all at once. He rummaged out a 50p piece and handed it to me, then burst out laughing. “Are we really doing this? I mean, you hear these stories about people getting hammered and waking up with their best mate’s name tattooed on their arse or handcuffed to a lamppost, but never with half a lighthouse.”

“Well now people can tell that story about you. Shake on it.”

He held out his hand and I gave it a firm press. “Look forward to working with you, partner. Get the key off Charlie and I’ll meet you up there tomorrow at 11, ok?”

“Jesus. You really do mean it.” He lifted a palm to his forehead. “Think I’m starting to feel that tequila. Did we just decide to do something completely insane or is it the DTs starting?”

“Yep. And we shook on it so it’s legally binding according to the law of the playground. Plus –” I held up the shiny coin he’d given me – “got your 50p. No going back.”

“Good. Probably the booze talking but I’m pretty sure this is the best idea ever. Me and you and the lighthouse…” He squinted up at the old lighthouse on the cliff, blanketed from view by the darkness. “It is, right?”

“Has to be. In vino verity and all that.”

“Er, don’t think that’s how that saying goes. Verity was in our year at school, wasn’t she?”

“Oh yeah.” I giggled and stumbled towards him, the heady combo of wine, tequila and sea air suddenly landing me a punch square between the eyes.

“Whoops. Careful, tiny drunk,” Ross said, laughing as he caught me.

I gazed up at him through cloudy eyes, fluttering my lashes in a way I hoped looked flirtatious rather than sleepy. “So slammer’s hit you at last?”

“Yep.”

“And you’re pretty smashed, all told?”

“I’d say so.”

“How about that birthday snog then, if we’re as drunk as each other?”

His mouth curved at one side. “Does sound nice, with the sea and everything. Still, feels like I’d be taking advantage.”

“Ah, go on, Gentleman Jim, nothing we haven’t done before. Call it a business snog. Can’t seal a deal properly with just a rubbish floppy handshake.”

“Oh right. I’ll have you know that when sober, my handshake is as firm and manly as my lovemaking, darling.”

“Wouldn’t know, would I?”

“Not yet,” he said, his voice suddenly gentle as he pressed me closer. “But there’ll be time for that. Let’s just enjoy right now, eh?” He reached up to stroke my hair away from my face, caressing my cheek while he pushed the escaping strands back. His fingertips on my skin felt rough, hardened by guitar strings, yet gentle too. I loved the way the tickle sent little vibrations through the nerves in my face. “Oh… go on then, lass, if it’s just a business snog. It is your birthday.”

“Ha, I win. Knew I’d crack you in the end.” I let out a dizzy giggle. “Crack you like a big handsome walnut.”

“Yep. Caught in the nutcracker of your charms.”

“Ok, let’s stop with the walnut thing now.”

“Yeah, think we’ve exhausted the nut-based flirting.” He stroked a gentle palm down my hair. “Hey,” he said softly. “I really like you, Bobbie.”

“I like you too, Ross.”

He brought his lips to mine and we held each other close as we kissed, listening to the leisurely waves plashing against the pebbles behind us.

Chapter 4 (#u63a381f1-0bfb-5cd3-a738-aec7dc9436e8)