BooksBarbecue
Back The Scarlet Dress
Chapters (84)
  1. Dedication
  2. Prologue
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. Friday
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. Saturday
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. Sunday
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. 56
  62. 57
  63. 58
  64. 59
  65. 60
  66. 61
  67. 62
  68. 63
  69. 64
  70. 65
  71. 66
  72. 67
  73. 68
  74. 69
  75. 70
  76. One Week Later
  77. 71
  78. Afterwards
  79. 72
  80. Acknowledgments
  81. Reading Group Questions
  82. More from Louise Douglas
  83. About the Author
  84. About Boldwood Books

‘I heard her saying she had a special date that night. And Marnie told me it was Guy.’

‘Marnie?’

‘This little kid who used to hang round Alice.’

‘How did she know?’

‘Alice told her. She told her everything.’

* * *

Finn and Will walked round the holiday park, and back up the side of the estuary, Finn taking photographs of the light and the water. They ate together in the Dolphin café and then Finn got back in his car and drove away. They hadn’t spoken about Saoirse again. Will didn’t know what Finn would tell her. He didn’t care. He lingered on the seafront, waiting for something; he didn’t know what. Clouds were blowing up the estuary. Sheets of grey rain curtained the sky, obscuring the Welsh coast, and the wind whipped across the water’s surface making wide grey waves that rolled up towards the bridge. It wasn’t like London, where there was always a warm shop or a museum or café where a person could take refuge. It was a different world.

The last time they were properly together, Will and Alice, he’d noticed that she wasn’t wearing his necklace and she said she’d taken it off because she’d been swimming and she hadn’t wanted to lose it in the pool.

‘Put it on for me,’ she’d said, and she’d kneeled on the caravan banquette with her back to him, holding up her hair so that he could fasten the clasp. He’d looked down at the back of her head, the frizz of tiny hairs at the base of her skull, the soft curves of her shoulders. He’d pressed his lips into her warm skin, then taken hold of the little metal tag at the top of the zip that held together the dress she was wearing between his thumb and forefinger and pulled it down so that the two sides of the dress opened and Alice’s back was set free. He’d kissed her, the knobbles of her spine pressing against his lips and then he’d put his arms round her and held her breasts in his hands.

She’d turned and smiled at him over her shoulder and then she’d stood up and the dress had slithered down to the floor. ‘Come on,’ she’d said, and he’d kicked off his boots and she’d led him into the bedroom.

She’d lain on the bed, her legs slightly open and he’d been so aroused, so desperate that he’d almost fallen on top of her, his shorts tangled about his ankles as he found her, pressed into her; came almost at once.