skipped in front of me and reached up and, taking my face in both her hands, she craned her neck up to kiss me. I know I sound like a little girl, but I felt dizzy and faint. I tasted
saltwater on her lips. Saltwater and the soft phosphorescence.
I had kissed girls before. I wasn’t a virgin. But she wasn’t a girl and this was all new to me. There was a less pliant quality to her kisses, a brittleness that said the thing had
to be more hard-won. She broke off and let her hands fall at her sides, staring hard at me. Then she turned and made towards the promenade. Before we reached the first lights she said that she
would go on ahead and that I should follow after a decent interval.
‘But I should walk you back!’
‘I’ll be fine.’
She skipped off the beach and up onto the promenade, quickening her pace, tossing her hair as she went. I watched from the shadows. When she’d disappeared from view I sat back down on the
concrete platform of the sea wall. I held my hands in front of my face. They were trembling. I could still taste the saltwater from her lips. And the honey. And the fire.
7
Whereupon they gather to drink bitter tears
Sunday was our start of the week. When I got to the theatre for Pinky’s up-and-at-’em briefing most of the team were already assembled – Tony, Perry the ASM,
George who ran the disco in the nightclub, and all the Greencoats except for Nobby. I was hoping that Terri would be up there on the stage in her cleaning whites, swabbing the floor with a mop. But
she wasn’t. It was probably a good thing. I would have found it impossible to take my eyes off her.
Nikki perched on one of the front row seats so I went over and settled myself next to her. I said good morning but she didn’t answer me; instead she instantly got up and went to talk to
George. I thought little of it at the time and anyway after a moment Nobby bustled in, huffing and puffing and blaming everyone but himself for his lateness. He crashed down in the seat Nikki had
vacated and continued to talk nonsense about missing milk and no cereals and traffic and ducks waddling in the road until Pinky, unlit cigar wedged between his fingers, waved him into silence so
that the various duties could be assigned.
The Sunday programme was fairly light. Pinky nominated me to do the Treasure Hunt. I was hoping Nikki would volunteer to do it with me but she elected instead to run the Whist Drive with Nobby
in the Slowboat. I was paired with another dancer called Gail, a pretty and dreamy girl who, when not dancing, spent most of her time examining the split ends on her long hair or studying her
fingernail varnish. Before leaving the theatre I glanced up on stage, but Nikki had already disappeared behind the curtain.
The Treasure Hunt was for kids between five and nine years. Gail and I led the kids around in a mob as they tracked down clues and locations all previously configured. The clues led to a set of
plastic spades and then identified a spot on the beach where the treasure (a tin casket full of sticks of rock) might be dug up. I thought it was a bit lame so I suggested we tell the kids that
Captain Blood the pirate was trying to beat them to the treasure, and that so they should look lively. Of course there was no Captain Blood so I slipped off to the props room behind the stage.
Behind the sword casket used for the magic-act I found a headscarf and a belt with a huge buckle, plus a black eyepatch and a hook. I crept up behind the thirty or forty kids and roared.
They turned and looked at me in complete silence.
I was regretting my input, and then they charged. I really had to run fast to get away. Luckily I knew the lay of the camp and I gave them the slip. I have no idea what they would have done had
they caught me. I took my pirate kit off, stashed it away and went to rejoin the Treasure Hunt. Out of breath, I told the kids I’d just seen Captain Blood on the beach and off
saltwater on her lips. Saltwater and the soft phosphorescence.
I had kissed girls before. I wasn’t a virgin. But she wasn’t a girl and this was all new to me. There was a less pliant quality to her kisses, a brittleness that said the thing had
to be more hard-won. She broke off and let her hands fall at her sides, staring hard at me. Then she turned and made towards the promenade. Before we reached the first lights she said that she
would go on ahead and that I should follow after a decent interval.
‘But I should walk you back!’
‘I’ll be fine.’
She skipped off the beach and up onto the promenade, quickening her pace, tossing her hair as she went. I watched from the shadows. When she’d disappeared from view I sat back down on the
concrete platform of the sea wall. I held my hands in front of my face. They were trembling. I could still taste the saltwater from her lips. And the honey. And the fire.
7
Whereupon they gather to drink bitter tears
Sunday was our start of the week. When I got to the theatre for Pinky’s up-and-at-’em briefing most of the team were already assembled – Tony, Perry the ASM,
George who ran the disco in the nightclub, and all the Greencoats except for Nobby. I was hoping that Terri would be up there on the stage in her cleaning whites, swabbing the floor with a mop. But
she wasn’t. It was probably a good thing. I would have found it impossible to take my eyes off her.
Nikki perched on one of the front row seats so I went over and settled myself next to her. I said good morning but she didn’t answer me; instead she instantly got up and went to talk to
George. I thought little of it at the time and anyway after a moment Nobby bustled in, huffing and puffing and blaming everyone but himself for his lateness. He crashed down in the seat Nikki had
vacated and continued to talk nonsense about missing milk and no cereals and traffic and ducks waddling in the road until Pinky, unlit cigar wedged between his fingers, waved him into silence so
that the various duties could be assigned.
The Sunday programme was fairly light. Pinky nominated me to do the Treasure Hunt. I was hoping Nikki would volunteer to do it with me but she elected instead to run the Whist Drive with Nobby
in the Slowboat. I was paired with another dancer called Gail, a pretty and dreamy girl who, when not dancing, spent most of her time examining the split ends on her long hair or studying her
fingernail varnish. Before leaving the theatre I glanced up on stage, but Nikki had already disappeared behind the curtain.
The Treasure Hunt was for kids between five and nine years. Gail and I led the kids around in a mob as they tracked down clues and locations all previously configured. The clues led to a set of
plastic spades and then identified a spot on the beach where the treasure (a tin casket full of sticks of rock) might be dug up. I thought it was a bit lame so I suggested we tell the kids that
Captain Blood the pirate was trying to beat them to the treasure, and that so they should look lively. Of course there was no Captain Blood so I slipped off to the props room behind the stage.
Behind the sword casket used for the magic-act I found a headscarf and a belt with a huge buckle, plus a black eyepatch and a hook. I crept up behind the thirty or forty kids and roared.
They turned and looked at me in complete silence.
I was regretting my input, and then they charged. I really had to run fast to get away. Luckily I knew the lay of the camp and I gave them the slip. I have no idea what they would have done had
they caught me. I took my pirate kit off, stashed it away and went to rejoin the Treasure Hunt. Out of breath, I told the kids I’d just seen Captain Blood on the beach and off
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