Alice at the Seaside

Alice laughed. The sand tickled as it trickled through her toes. She loved the beach in winter, when the holidaymakers had all gone home, she felt the beach was all hers and hers alone. Of course, if it was hers she would let Jo share it. They ran along the strand as the waves lapped the shore. The waves that seemed to be getting braver by the minute, under the grey cheerless sky. Perhaps it was just the wind rather than the tide, the same wind that played with the hair of both girls, leaving them in tattered knots and causing the girls to tug tresses from their mouths and eyes.

“Wait, slow down.” shouted Jo into the noisy roaring, chill wind.

“Come on, keep up slowcoach.” Alice cried back to her as she raced ahead. Jo was one of Alice’s friends, probably her best friend, although Alice had lots of friends. Some real and some not so. Alice was reasonably certain that Jo was one of the real ones. But of course, one could never be absolutely sure.

Jo was in many ways the opposite of Alice. She had dark hair while Alice’s hair was blond, it had to be of course, just like in the book. How had her parents known? Neither of them had blond hair, so why had they thought to name her after the character of a children’s book who is almost as famous for being blonde, as she is for having the kind of adventures that usually require some form of narcotic. It was a mystery to Alice, and one that she often pondered long and hard. As for the look of them the girls could scarcely be more different, Alice a lithe and slender girly girl. Almost willowy in stature and Jo who, not to be unkind had a centre of gravity much closer to the ground, and could best be described as a ball of dough waiting to be kneaded and teased into human shape by some kindly celestial baker. Maybe one day.

The two hurtled along the deserted beach, each in their own fashion. The tall red and white lighthouse loomed slightly ahead of them and off to their right. The cliffs to their left bleached white like the carcass of some gigantic sea creature, washed up long ago and forgotten by the feckless tide.

The girls were fast approaching the end of the beach, where they knew was hidden an isolated bay that only the hardiest of visitors found, even in the busy summer season. Over the sharp jagged rocks with their gift of green fur given by the sea, they clambered gingerly. Bare feet sliding on the mossy surface and just beneath the suface were the sharp edges that deterred so many casual adventurers. And kept the bay for the chosen few who knew what delights were to be found on the other side of the headland.

“Please let me get my breath back, won’t you?” panted Jo, “are you sure it’s safe?” she continued. “It looks to me as if the tide is coming in and you know if we climb round into the bay there is only one way in and one way out again.” A fear and dread had suddenly crept over her. Jo didn’t really do premonitions so Alice thought it was ok to carry on.

They mounted the rocks and rounded the part of the cliff that twice a day was battered by the relentless sea. Stretched before them was a slice of golden sand, almost a perfect scimitar shape. It ran for hundreds of yards until it met it’s end with another even bigger promontory of cliff that stood out so far into the channel, that it’s feet were permanently wet.

On this side of the head the rocks were smaller and nowhere near as sharp and dangerous. Alice and Jo made their way to the beach, at last this was their own part of the coastline, on all the previous occasions they had been here, they had never seen another soul. They wandered up and down collecting shells and poking into interesting looking pools. Searching for other signs of life, so as not to feel so lonely. A tiny crab, dislodged by the invading stick, scuttled off to find a safer hiding place.

Alice heard a gasp from behind her.

“Look!” cried Jo. “The sea, it’s covering the rocks and cutting us off.”

A spume of white dashed against the very cliff they had negotiated not half an hour ago.

“We will have to wait here for the tide to go back out again,” said an ever-practical Alice. “It won’t take too long, and at least it’s not raining.”

Right on cue the heavens opened. The rain fell in sheets. And pillow cases and Eiderdowns. The girls looked around in search of shelter and were soon soaked to the skin. Behind a large piece of fallen chalk they found an opening, surprisingly large and easily big enough for them both to climb into. Inside the cave they peered out at the lashing rain. The sea was coming in quickly. It was fast approaching the mouth of their little sanctuary. Soon it would be soaking their feet. Helping each other in turn they mounted a small shelf that ran along one wall of the cave. Barely a foot across they perched precariously, hoping the sea would not rise too high and sweep them off.

In the cavemouth the sea roared angrily. Echoed from the walls and beat them about the ears as if scolding them like a helpless but gratefully relived parent.

At first faintly, then growing louder, came the sound of a small outboard motor. Putt-putting towards them, tossed by the thrashing waves. A voice carried to them in their hiding place by the same wind they were trying desperately to avoid, “HELLO,” it hollered in an effort to do battle with the elements.

“Hello, this is the coastguard. “It explained. “Where are you?” “Can you hear me?”

Cupping their mouths with their hands to defeat the rain they answered in disbelief “Here in the cave.” The small brave vessel appeared in the opening and the tiny prow had just enough room to push its nose inside the cave.

“Give me your hands,” said the sailor turned saviour. “I got worried when I saw you rounding the Head from the clifftop in my binoculars and when I didn’t see you come back out of the bay before the tide turned, I thought I should come to the rescue.”

A wet but grateful Alice just sat in the boat and shivered. “It’s a very small boat but then there is only one of you.”