My heart began to leap as I grasped that what I really should have said was that I didn’t know the huts were a popular courting spot. The last thing I needed now was to accidently reveal that this wasn’t my first time in Wynmouth and that I knew all about the huts and their romantic – for want of a better word – history.

‘I suppose that’s true,’ he agreed.

‘And what do you mean, still a popular place?’ I asked, trying to throw him off the scent he might not have even picked up. ‘Have they always been the place for romantic assignations?’

‘Well, I don’t know about romantic,’ he smiled. ‘But the local kids and teens on their holidays have always come down here to get out of sight of their parents.’

‘Including you?’ I blurted out.

‘Me?’

‘Yes,’ I swallowed, risking a speedy glance at him and finding he was looking at Hope, ‘you.’

‘I may have had a memorable moment down here,’ he admitted, his cheeks colouring a little, but probably nowhere near as much as mine.

‘Just the one?’

With his good looks and alleged popularity with the local female population I’d bet it was a whole lot more than just one.

‘Yes,’ he confirmed with real conviction, ‘just the one.’

There was no doubting that he was telling the truth. I wondered if that was because, like me, the moment had been so sweetly perfect that it couldn’t possibly be bettered or if because the crash and his lengthy recuperation from it had put a stop to him coming back.

‘So, why . . .’ I began, turning to face him as I grappled for the right words to frame the question, ‘when . . .’

He turned at the same time to look at me, his eyebrows raised in expectation as my words trailed off and I suddenly found myself back in the room, or in this case back on the beach, with the distinct impression that I’d missed something.

‘Well, go on then,’ he said, pointing at Hope, who was now beckoning to me. ‘You’re up.’

‘What?’

‘Look alive,’ he said, ‘you’re supposed to helping, aren’t you?’

‘Oh my god, yes,’ I muttered, ‘yes, I am.’

I quickly made my way through the crowd to the front.

‘Sorry,’ I said to Hope as she jumped down to join me on the sand, ‘I was distracted.’

‘You could hear me though, couldn’t you?’ She frowned. ‘I probably should have borrowed a megaphone or something.’

‘No, you were fine,’ I reassured her. ‘Clear as a bell. It was all perfect and you were brilliant.’ I smiled, certain that in spite of my inability to listen to her and Sam at the same time that she had been. ‘Now pass me the gloves and buckets and I’ll start dishing them out.’