Artists Town-a FREE TO READ coming of age tale (SAMPLE ONLY)

The Guy with the Bike

Thankfully, Tony kept his terrible dad sayings to just "let's get this show on the road", as he rubbed his hands together and opened the back door of the car to let them in.

Sat in the back seat of the car in between Daisy and her brother, Katrina took charge of the outing, leaning forward so she could instruct Debbie. "You should go and have a look at the Dhoon."

"What's that, then?" Tony twisted so he could speak to her.

"It's a beach. It's got a shipwreck, aye? And the tide'll be in." Katrina sat back again, nudging Daisy once more. The nudges made Daisy hopeful. Was there more to this beach than Katrina was saying? Maybe it was like Brighton or even the beaches in Spain, scantily-clad teenagers (boys) parading up and down the sandy shores.

You could only hope.

Debbie ordered Katrina to belt up, embarrassing Daisy once more. Katrina, on the other hand, did so at once. "Aye, you're right, Mrs Walker. The roads around here are awfy dangerous. Quite a few people have been killed because they werenae wearing their seatbelts."

Matthew's eyes widened. He was at the age where he'd figured out what dying was and that it could happen to his mum and his dad—and even to him. "Muuummm," he wailed. "It's too dangerous!"

Her mum and dad looked at each other. Tony turned around once more.

"Matthew, your mum's a careful driver. We'll be fine! And it'll be lovely to see the sea, won't it?"

Daisy was nudged again. She nudged Katrina back, sure that she'd wound up her little brother on purpose.

The drive to the beach didn't take long; instructions barked out by Katrina. "Left here, over the bridge, left here, slow here the road's twisty, a man's car exploded here years ago, but he was drunk at the time."

Matthew clapped his hands over his eyes at that.

The beach began to appear, stretches of sand, gorse and yellow-flecked rocks. The sea wasn't as blue as the water you saw in France or Spain, but it was a calm day, and the water looked glassily peaceful, the white foam-tipped waves gently hitting the shore and rolling back.

There were plenty of other cars in the car park. Daisy's hopes leapt. Maybe there was an amusement arcade or a pier.

Katrina led them to a sand track that took them to the beach, a long, narrow stretch of sand, book-ended by rocks. Daisy looked around her. There were houses on the rocks to the left-hand side and a lighthouse in the distance. Families with small children populated the beach's upper level.

There was no sign of an amusement arcade; only an ice-cream van in the car park hemmed in by yet more small children. The van was selling Mr Whippy's, the air-light, white sugary stuff Daisy had once adored before diabetes closed yet another door on her.

Tony took his shoes off and indicated that they should all do the same. "Who's for a paddle, then?" Daisy's mum and Matthew removed their footwear, but Daisy shook her head.

"I'll guard the shoes and bags," she offered. The rest of her family rolled up trousers and headed down to the water.

Left on their own, Katrina wriggled her toes into the sand. "Good idea not to," she said, gesturing at Daisy's family, all shrieking with laughter at the shock of the icy water. "Sellafield's no' that far away."

"What's Sellafield?"

Katrina's voice dropped to a whisper. "A nuclear plant. Your family will come back glowing green. Mind, maybe that'll make them live forever. There's an auld granny who swims here every day in the summer, and she's ninety."