Storm Watching
WRITTEN BY BETH MCKAY
On their anniversary, the best gift was a precious memory
Ellie tucked herself into a winged velvet armchair. It had the best view of the waves pounding the beach below.
The North Cornish coastline was renowned for its drama in all seasons, but winter was awe-inspiring. The hotel lounge looked out to the open sea, where magnificent, white-crested rollers stormed in. They curled and broke with a powerful crash as they hit the rocky outposts of the bay. Intrepid surfers were out, swooping and curving through the seething foam with a reckless bravery, which Ellie could not help but admire. She shivered despite the warmth of the fire crackling in the grate. Ellie had always enjoyed bodyboarding with the family, but winter surfing was better as an armchair spectacle.
“What a great spot!” Ellie’s husband Tom settled himself down on the leather sofa beside her, newspaper in hand. “I can’t believe the surfers are tackling those waves.” He shook his head in disbelief as a balaclava clad figure did a graceful pirouette and tumbled in.
“Wipe out!” they both interjected at the same moment and laughed at the coincidence.
“Great minds,” Ellie remarked, leaning over to pat Tom’s knee fondly. It had been Tom’s idea to come here as a couple, to celebrate their 40th Wedding Anniversary, and Ellie had enjoyed every minute of their stay so far. She and Tom used to bring their children to the same hotel for a bank holiday treat when they were younger. Despite its Victorian grandeur, it was a homely place. A sign at reception had declared that wetsuits and bare feet were welcome in the foyer, and such friendly informality had won them over from the start. Ellie had always wondered what it would be like to return in winter, to watch storms and early sunsets. She gazed out at the lowering grey clouds on the horizon.
Tom was soon absorbed in the headlines. He liked the abundance of free newspapers at the hotel. Ellie smiled at the furrows of concentration as her husband peered over his reading glasses. Tom’s thick, wiry hair may have receded, but his face was still attractive, with prominent cheekbones and a broad, easy grin. He was fitter now after all his extra cycling. Having Tom sitting next to her in companionable silence was a rare moment to treasure. Retirement usually kept him busier than ever. Ellie picked up her paperback and felt her shoulders relax as she started to read.
“How about a walk along the beach?” Tom suggested later. “I think the rain has stopped at last.”
Ellie nodded happily. Walking was one of the hobbies they still shared.
They bundled themselves up in scarves and waterproof coats and hauled on their wellies in the porch. There was no point taking umbrellas. The fierce Cornish winds simply blew them inside out. Soon, Ellie and Tom were striding down the cliff path from the headland. Ellie gripped Tom’s hand on the slippery steps as he guided her carefully down the last few feet onto the sand.
Close to the ocean’s edge, the noise of the surf was deafening. They could barely hear each other speak. Tom and Ellie leaned into the headwind and stamped out a trail of wet footprints. It was exhilarating to be out in a wild open space, facing the full force of nature. Tom stooped to pick up a shell and presented it to Ellie. She smiled her thanks and tucked it in her pocket as a keepsake. They had never been a couple who exchanged gifts on their anniversary. They preferred finding somewhere special to celebrate instead. Tom was full of ideas to surprise her with, and it was often these memories that Ellie valued the most.
At the far end of the beach, they climbed the rocky path to a café. Perched on the cliff, the bright interior offered a welcome sanctuary from the rain, which was beginning to fall like stair rods. Ellie and Tom were grateful to hunker down in a corner with their steaming mugs of creamy hot chocolate.
“Do you remember that heavy snowfall in the week we got married?” Tom reminisced as the feeling slowly returned to his fingers.
“It was so deep, my father had to invite the snow-plough driver to the wedding,” Ellie laughed, “otherwise we’d never have made it to the church.”
Back on the sands, the showers had blown over. A pale streak of winter sun appeared on the horizon, glittering like a ribbon along the sea. Ellie took Tom’s arm and they set off at a pace, both eager for dinner. The soft lights of their hotel gleamed invitingly in the distance.
“We might get our ruby after all,” Ellie murmured when the clouds finally parted, revealing a fiery glimmer of red: the first promise of a sunset.
Look out for My Weekly magazine, in newsagents and supermarkets, and enjoy a selection of brand new short stories in every issue! Or click here to subscribe and save pounds on the shop price.
Allison Hay
I joined the "My Weekly" team thirteen years ago and, more recently, "The People's Friend". I love the variety of topics we cover both online and in the magazines. I manage the digital content for the brands, sharing features and information on the website, social media and in our digital newsletters.
