"You have absolutely no idea," he said, deepening his voice in a slightly worrying way. "You just need experienced instruction." Gideon shifted so that he was silhouetted against the sun. Lucy had to shade her eyes to make him out and even then his face was a dark blob. "So what's a gorgeous girl like you doing here, all alone, if you're not going out on the water? Maybe I can try and persuade you into a wetsuit? Or out of it. Haw!" He gave a low growling sound that reminded her of Hengist after a curry.

She jumped to her feet. "Oh, look! I think I've seen someone I know," she cried, waving a hand in the vague direction of the shore.

Gideon whipped round and squinted. "Who? I got the impression you were new round here." Then his face fell. "Oh. Him."

Emerging from the knot of junior sailors by the shore was Josh, and Lucy could honestly say she had never been happier to see him; in fact, she'd never been happy to see him before. However, today her heart did a little skip which she put down to relief at being rescued from Gideon and not to the fact that Josh also had a wetsuit on. Well, he almost had a wetsuit on because it was peeled down, the arms and top half hanging down in front of his waist. Rivulets of water were trickling down his chest and over the hollows of a genuine Men's Healthstyle six-pack.

She had no idea how Josh felt about finding her chatting to Gideon because he was wearing mirror sunglasses. All she could see was her own reflection, distorted into someone resembling a Teletubby. Which was unfair seeing as how she was only a size eight.

"You finally decided to join us, then?" he said.

Gideon snorted again. "No chance, mate! I've been trying to persuade her but there's no moving the lady. She's allergic to water."

"I'm not so sure. I've seen her when she's wet," said Josh. Lucy had to stop her mouth from dropping open.

"Gideon, Mack Harris has been asking if you still want to get rid of your Osprey. He's over in the changing rooms right now if you want to talk to him."

"Right. Yes. Suppose I'd better catch him while I can, then. Strike while the iron's hot and all that. Good-bye, Miss Hyde. Hope we get to see your wilder side at the barbecue, eh? Haw."

For a moment, Lucy thought he was going to dig her in the ribs and chortle but he just swaggered off, still laughing at his own joke.

"Actually, I did crew a catamaran once. I'm not allergic to water," she said, eager to show Josh she wasn't a total wimp.

"Only to Gideon?"

Josh pushed back his shades. His eyes were teasing and this time, when Lucy's stomach flipped, she had no excuse beyond pure lust. "I thought you seemed to be getting on pretty well."

"No. I mean, he's probably very nice, but..."

He raised his eyebrows and his eyes sparkled. In that moment, she realized that since Josh was perfectly capable of teasing her about Gideon, he was also capable of outrageous innuendo. She crossed her arms over her breasts, alarmed that, through her thin T-shirt, he'd notice the effect he was having on her.

"So now you've checked out the club and the locals, I guess you won't be coming to the barbecue?"

He was definitely testing her out and she wasn't about to give him what he wanted. "On the contrary, I'm really looking forward to meeting everyone. If Gideon is anything to go by, it will be a very entertaining evening. Besides, Sara says you're getting in some special BBQ food just for me so how could I not come along?"

"Then I'm glad you're coming, Lucy."

That was it? No sarcastic remark? No dour comment? "I'm looking forward to it," she murmured. "Really."

He covered his eyes with his shades again. "Good. That's... good. I'm sure Sara's looking forward to it too."

Lucy felt he'd just turned the hose on her again. He turned away slightly so that he was facing the clubhouse. Sara was standing on the terrace watching them. She lifted a hand in a wave and Lucy raised hers back.

"I've got to go. I'm late for a committee meeting," he said, rolling his eyes.

Lucy smiled and nodded. "I'm going to Porthstow Library to help Fiona do some research into public hangings."

"Enjoy."

Then he was gone, his bare feet crunching on the shingle as he made his way up the beach to the clubhouse. Wasting no time, Lucy turned round and headed back in the direction of Tresco Creek. At the last moment, as she reached the corner of the headland, she couldn't resist a glance behind. On the terrace she could just make out the twin figures of Josh and Sara, although they were so closely entwined, they might as well have been one.

Chapter 18.

The evening of the barbecue was gorgeous. Even at eight o'clock, the sun was still bright in the evening sky. Tresco Creek had also heated up considerably in the past few days and Lucy had taken the chance to catch some sun on the beach. Even Fiona had been lured out a few times. At least, reasoned Lucy, if she had to go back to London, she decided she was going to take a tan with her. She felt the sun's warmth even now on her bare shoulders, tempering the cool breeze blowing in from the sea.

"You're very quiet," said Fiona, as they made their way along the estuary toward the sailing club. "Aren't you looking forward to your special treats from Sara?"

"Oh, absolutely. Can't wait."

"Really?"

"Not quite true. There's still a slim chance of being recognized I suppose, especially if I'm feeling 'tired and emotional' and let something slip."

"You'll have to stick to water, then," said Fiona grimly, picking her way over a discarded bikini top.

"Of course," said Lucy. "I'll be as blameless as a saint."

What she didn't tell Fiona was the way her stomach fluttered; she might have been a teenager again, heading off to a party knowing-hoping-that one particular guy would be there. Even though he probably wouldn't notice her, even though he was with another girl, she couldn't stop the bubble of excitement rising in her throat at the thought of him. Which was why she was going to do her very best to keep out of his way.

The flags on the sailing club came into view. Figures were milling about on the terrace. The breeze carried snatches of laughter, the thud of a bass line, and the smell of herbs and charcoal.

"Smells promising," said Fiona, sniffing the air.

"Definitely scallops and canapes," replied Lucy firmly as they reached the concrete slipway that led from the parking lot to the sea. "Shall we get into our heels?"

Dropping her straw beach bag on the slipway, she delved inside and hooked her shoes: a pair of black wedges with ties that crisscrossed her calves. Back in the cottage, the wedges had seemed the perfect partner to the halter-neck maxi dress she'd picked up on a trip to the Greek Isles almost exactly twelve months before.

Fiona was slipping on a pair of red vinyl forties-style open-toed shoes that matched her low cut, clingy dress. She'd piled her auburn hair on her head and fixed it with a fake gardenia. Lucy had left her black hair long and natural but had gone for a dusting of bronzing powder and a rosy lip gloss. As she wound the ties of her wedges around her legs, a group of partygoers spilled out of the sailing club, almost all of them wearing shorts and T-shirts.

"Fi..."

"Hmm," said Fiona, applying an extra coat of cerise lipstick without the benefit of a mirror.

"You don't think we're just a tiny bit... overdressed for a beach barbecue, do you?"

Fiona glanced up at the other partygoers spilling out of the entrance to the clubhouse. "So what if we are? The day you catch me in board shorts and Birkenstocks is the day you can take me out and shoot me."

"I'll remember that."

Fiona led the way in and they teetered up the stairs to the top floor. Lucy didn't recognize the music, some Latino dance rhythm. There were tables piled up at one end of the room-to create a makeshift dance floor, she guessed, but right now, no one was dancing. Everyone was, however, talking, shouting, laughing, and drinking. Heads didn't exactly turn when they entered the room but there were definite sidelong glances and smiles of amusement. Most people were in casual stuff: flowery shirts, oversize T-shirts, sailing shoes. There were a few girls in sundresses but no one looking quite as flamboyant as Lucy and Fiona. Apart, perhaps, from Gideon, lighting up the room in a startling Hawaiian shirt and matching shorts.

"My God, it's Austin bloody Powers," hissed Fiona as Gideon made a beeline for them.

"And he hasn't lost any of his mojo," groaned Lucy. "I met him the other day when I walked down to the club."

"Really? You failed to mention you'd been down to the club. Funny, that."

"Ah ha, but it wasn't that funny in the end. I think Gideon might like me. Brace yourself."

Gideon bounded up, bearing two plastic half-pint glasses with drink that looked like pink lemonade sloshing over the rims.

"The Lovely Lucy! And an equally lovely friend. This is my lucky night. Two for the price of one and all that. Have a drink!"

"Thanks, Gideon. Um, what is it?" said Lucy, relieving him of the glasses.

He tapped his nose. "The house special. We call it a Three Sheets."

Lucy sniffed. "Smells like lighter fuel."

"Or methylated spirits," said Fi. "I had to try some once for research purposes. It's not as bad as you'd expect."

"I can assure you this is one hell of a lot feistier than methylated spirits, ladies."

Lucy and Fiona both took a gulp.

Gideon glowed. "Bottoms up, eh? And may I say what lovely ones they are?"

"Holy Mary..." spluttered Fiona.

"What's in it?" coughed Lucy, wiping tears from her eyes.

"That'd be telling," said Gideon in delight as Lucy and Fiona waited for the fire in their throats to subside. "It's an old club recipe. Lots of rum, a generous helping of moonshine, and a secret ingredient. Amos Penhaligon brews it in his net loft."

"Why is it called Three Sheets?" gasped Lucy, her lips tingling.

"Because it gets you Three Sheets to The Wind, of course. Absolutely rat-arsed, bladdered, pissed as the proverbial-"

"Thank you, Gideon, I get the picture."

He slapped her back, spilling drink on her dress in the process. "Don't go away, baby. I'm just going to point Percy at the porcelain," he growled.

"Is he from this century?" asked Fiona as he headed off toward the gents.

"Not even from this planet," said Lucy, steering her toward the open doors. "Quick, out here."

Out on the terrace, the crowd was slightly thinner. Lucy caught her breath. Across the sea, the sun was slowly dropping toward the horizon, turning pink, a single cloud drifting across its face. Below on the beach, the barbecue was in full swing, with a queue of hungry people snaking back from the makeshift grill suspended over two drums.

"Lucy! Fiona! Woo-hoo!"

Sara was making her way over. Her lithe body was poured into an itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny white shorts and bikini top. She wore no makeup yet still managed to look glowing, groomed, and fit yet ever-so-slightly fragile all at once. Lucy was suddenly self-conscious about her height. She usually considered her five feet nine inches an asset: it got you noticed in bars, maxi dresses didn't swamp you, flat boots didn't make you look like a Hobbit, yet against Sara, she just felt clumpy.

"Oh my, don't you two city girls scrub up well?" she said with just the right amount of incredulity. "Lucy, I adore your dress, how I wish I was that brave and Fiona, shocking crimson really suits you. Goes with your hair and eyes."

Lucy heard choking sounds from Fiona as she drained half of her punch.

"Are you all right?" asked Sara, her face concerned. "Or will I need to perform the Heimlich maneuver on you?"

"She's fine," said Lucy, banging Fiona none too gently between her shoulder blades. "Just a little something stuck in her throat."

Sara lowered her voice. "Are you sure? I can fetch Josh if you need him. We keep a full first-aid kit at the club and he's a First Responder."

Lucy tried not to think of Josh giving mouth-to-mouth.

"Need me for what?"

Turning to face him, she wondered if she should change her mind about accepting medical intervention. Josh was wearing a filmy white shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to midway between his wrists and elbows. The top buttons were undone, he had springy little blond hairs visible in the V, and there was a tantalizing glimpse of male nipple through the fine lawn of his shirt. At least he wasn't wet.

"Who needs me?" he repeated, his eyes almost turquoise in the bronze evening light. "And to do what?"

"Fiona was choking," said Sara.

"I'm f-fine," blurted Fiona between coughs. "I blame the Three Sheets."

Sara gave a tinkling laugh. "Oh, you girls are so funny!"

"Yes, we're available as a double act for weddings and funerals," said Lucy.

Sara frowned. "And how much do you charge? Or do you come as a job lot?"

"I'm sure they're way too expensive for Tresco Sailing Club," said Josh, his hand slipping behind Sara's waist and drawing her closer to him. He smiled, presumably to show he was joking, but Lucy saw the bob of his Adam's apple betraying his discomfort.

"Have you tried the House Special?" he asked.

"Gideon made sure of that," said Lucy, hardly trusting herself to meet his eyes.

"Good. Getting drunk on Three Sheets is compulsory for all new visitors to Tresco. I suppose you could call it an initiation."

"An initiation?"

"Oh, yes. Didn't Sara tell you about the ritual?"

"No, she left that part out," said Fiona. "What ritual?"

"Josh, don't be silly," said Sara, pulling her arm out of his. "He's teasing you both. We don't do anything of the kind; it's against the club constitution."

"That's a relief, I thought you were going to make us walk the plank," said Lucy.

"We do-after we've thrown you naked in the brig to sober up."

Lucy's breasts prickled and reminded her she had no bra on.