Doctor Who_ Rip Tide - Louise Cooper [14]
'Of course: He was scanning the beach, not looking at her any longer. Then abruptly he seemed to remember that she was there. Giving her another smile, he said, 'Sorry again to have disturbed you: He held out a hand with a white paper bag in it. 'May I offer you a jelly baby, by way of recompense?'
Jelly baby? 'Er ... no, thanks.' Under her breath Nina added, 'I've heard about your sort before.'
The man didn't appear to hear that. He tucked the bag into a pocket, said, 'Ah, well. Time flies, and so forth. I must get on. Goodbye.'
Barking, Nina thought. Totally barking.
She went back to her sunbathing.
The red-haired girl was waiting when Steve arrived at the beach, and intercepted him as he walked past the lifeboat house. Steve was surprised and flattered to be sought out, especially by someone so goodlooking, and agreed at once to the interview. They stood in the sunlight by the boathouse door as people passed by in both directions. Steve made no attempt to hide the fact that he was attracted to the girl, and she in turn appeared to respond. OK, he told himself, she was a reporter and she obviously knew how to use charm to get under people's guard and persuade them to say more than they should, but what did that matter? He was shrewd enough not to fall for the ploy, and if it led to a bit of fun, so much the better.
For a while he simply answered her questions, directly when they were innocent questions, more evasively when she began to probe. No, as far as he was aware the man they pulled from the sea hadn't been identified yet, and no, he had no idea when the inquest would be held. When she asked, 'What are they doing with his body now?' he was nonplussed, and pointed out that he was a lifeboat crewman, not a pathologist. At that point he nearly fulfilled Nina's predictions, but the girl hastily changed tack and instead asked things such as where the body had been discovered, where they thought it had come from, whether they had found anything else during the rescue. If he had been concentrating on the questions rather than the questioner, Steve might have thought a lot of her queries distinctly odd. As it was, he didn't notice. In fact, it didn't even register on his mind that she had no tape or notebook and wasn't recording his answers in any form whatever.
Finally she ran out of questions and said, 'Well, thank you, Steve. I'm grateful to you. It's been very interesting.'
A couple went by, towed by a large and badly-trained retriever straining at its lead and with tail wagging madly. 'And for me: Steve smiled. 'But do you know what? You haven't even told me your name yet.'
'Oh ... Haven't I?'
'No.' He waited, ignoring a toddler with an ice-cream cornet who paused to stare at him, and when nothing else was forthcoming prompted, 'Well?'
'Well what?'
'What's your name?'
'Oh, I see ... Yes. It's —' There was a pause, and for a moment her green-gold eyes seemed to lose their focus, as if she was thinking about something else entirely. Then she said, 'My name's Redruth.'
Steve burst out laughing. The toddler ran away and its parents looked up. A man with long hair, who had the look of an eccentric poet or academic, was also passing by; he paused, his glance intent for a moment, then moved on towards the sand. Unaware of him, the girl stared at Steve in confusion — then suddenly she realised that she had made a mistake. Redruth wasn't a name for a person. It was the name of a place, a town. She had seen it on the map; it wasn't far from here. Though her face didn't show it, she was alarmed, and furious with herself for the blunder. But why was he laughing? Laughter was a sign of amusement, whereas she had expected instant suspicion.
Then Steve's laughter subsided and he said, 'Sorry — I didn't mean to laugh, but I like that. You're actually called Ruth,