‘New plan. I’ll go and find us a more inconspicuous spot and you nip across the road and grab us some coffees and something to eat. We can go over some stuff here until I dry out enough to not get arrested.

‘Sounds good.’ She turned to go. ‘And I’m sorry about the seaweed thing.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ I said, handing her two reusable takeaway cups. ‘Now, off you go. I’ll be over here.’ I waved the bags in the general direction of where I was headed.

‘OK. Back in a bit.’

I sat down and pulled a pair of flip-flops from one of the bags. Slipping them on, I made my way across the pebbles to a spot that looked good and sat myself down. From one of the bags, I pulled an Oriental-style parasol and opened it, shading my pale skin from the strengthening sun. Whilst my brother had inherited my dad’s ‘one glance at the sun and I’m handsomely golden’ genes, I’d inherited my mother’s pale Irish colouring wholesale from the red hair to skin the colour of fresh cream. ‘Golden’ wasn’t a word I associated with my skin when it came to the sun. ‘Red and blotchy’ would be nearer the truth if I ever bothered trying to acquire anything resembling a suntan. Which I didn’t.

If I was honest, it didn’t really bother me. Despite all the usual carrot top, ginger nob and other wholly inaccurate connotations my redhead status had inspired at school, Mum had always kept me positive about it all. Of course, when all my friends had been wearing tiny shorts and crop tops, their golden tans making their hair look blonder, legs longer and teeth whiter, there had been moments I’d ached to be the same. But, as I got older, I realised that I couldn’t change what I’d been given so it would be better to embrace it rather than fight it. And in recent years, celebrity had been on our side. With Prince Harry and Ed Sheeran flying the flag for the men, plus the advent of the Mad Men phenomenon and actresses like Emma Stone and Julianne Moore, redheads were cool! I mean, we’d always known we were cool, but finally – finally – the world at large was also now getting the message.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Maxine has wanted to be a writer for as long as she can remember and wrote her first (very short) book for school when she was ten.

As time went by, she continued to write, but ‘normal’ work often got in the way. She has written articles on a variety of subjects, as well as a local history book on Brighton. However, novels are her first love.

In August 2015, she won Harper Collins/Carina UK's 'Write Christmas' competition with her first romantic comedy, ‘Winter's Fairytale’.