The wind was light, just enough to set slack ropes clinking against metal masts. Abbey and Lewis sat on a wall, looking out over the marina and listening to the soft slop of wavelets that played between the boats and ran aground on the stones below their feet. Oblivious fish shoals played along the rocky edges in the warmth of the glassy shallows, hunting for morsels amongst the grey crags. Abbey shaded her eyes to look beyond the marina. The sea sparkled, energised by a sun-whitened sky. Lewis tugged his sunglasses up to scan the white rows of pleasure craft, then dropped them back onto his nose.
‘Which yacht is it?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know. She said it’s blue and white.’
‘There’s a blue one over there.’ Lewis pointed into the glare.
‘Where? Oh yes. I didn’t see that one. But it might be this one.’ Abbey pointed into a different part of the blinding light.
‘Why didn’t you ask her? It could be any of them. There are hundreds of blue and white ones.’
‘Don’t exaggerate, Lewis.’
‘Alright, half a dozen then.’
Abbey chortled. ‘It’s hard to see anything from here.’
‘You need some sunglasses. I thought you had a pair.’
‘I did but you sat on them. Remember?’
‘Well, you shouldn’t have left them in the beach bag. How could I know?’
‘So, why did you sit on the bag? Oh, forget it.’ Abbey reached around Lewis and pulled his mouth onto hers, smothering his protests and bringing the bickering to an end…