To end, a seductive story of sun, sea and…
sandcastles to warm up any winter’s day
the thrill of watching the Sandcastle Man.
THIRD PRIZE £100 That he was on this beach at all was an uncharacteristic act of
frivolity by the Town Council who had hired him to entertain the
Sandcastle Man
holidaymakers for two weeks. It would all culminate in a Grand
Sandcastle Competition and then he would be gone, moving on to
another place; drifting through our fingers like, well, like sand.
Hazel Osmond Even the weather had decided to co-operate with a sultry,
energy-sapping heat wave that lay over the country and did not
budge. People slowed their pace, relaxed into it. The concrete on
A
wide brimmed hat was essential on a sunny day, particularly the promenade shimmered by noon.
if you wanted to look at the Sandcastle Man without him Time seemed to falter and slide, the hot days melting into warm
knowing. nights.
The more blatant kind of woman just sat and stared, head Not long after the Sandcastle Man arrived, Annie started to
uncovered, mouth slightly open. wear her bikini in the van. I told her it was probably against
Who could blame them? The Sandcastle Man stood out amongst health and safety regulations, but I did it with a smile.
the lobster-pink Dads and the pumped-up Romeos. Black curls, During a lull in trade, I watched her as she watched the
dark eyes, a lithe, brown body that surely owed more to exotic Sandcastle Man. He was making her overheat, I could tell, and
beaches than tanning booths. when she filled a cone and slipped out of the van, I knew where
He had a little leather plait fastened around one ankle too; the she was heading. Soon she was talking to him, handing him the
final confirmation that he was something ‘other’. rapidly melting ice cream and placing one of her feet, delicately,
Of course, he built sandcastles like a dream, keeping even the right next to one of his.
most fidgety child entranced. His look of concentration as he dug I lost sight of them when a family came to order a handful of
and patted and smoothed the sand, his white teeth biting into his lollies, but by the time they were walking away licking them,
bottom lip, was mesmerising. Annie was back in the van.
Did I mention that he was French, with a clothes-stripping ‘Name’s Philippe. Polite, friendly, beautiful accent,’ she
accent? Or that he only wore a pair of shorts? They were blue and reported, her mouth a little pouty. ‘But I asked him if he wanted
cut beautifully. None of those bulging or drooping designs for to go for a drink later and he just said, “Thank you. No.”‘
him. They looked like they were moulded to his body; part of him She set about cleaning the counter with surprising vigour
as much as the muscles of his stomach or his long, long legs. considering the heat.
Whilst I did not have the benefit of a wide brimmed hat, I did Men didn’t normally refuse Annie and that evening she went
have the advantage of height. The height of the promenade plus home to our rented flat an hour early, saying she had a head-
an ice cream van to be precise. A holiday job from university; ache. I suspected it was really a punctured ego, but I was too busy
‘Hell on wheels’ as Annie, my fellow inmate in that boiling box dealing with the queue to really think about it. When I saw my
called it. reflection in the fridge I was red, almost glowing; little tendrils of
For three months we had swapped Applied Physics for soft hair stuck to my damp face and neck.
whip cornets, ice lollies, monkey blood, chopped nuts, cans of Then suddenly there was the Sandcastle Man, framed in the
drink and ice pops. window. A heart-thumping picture. I would not have been
As the sun beat down on the van we sweltered and served and surprised to see the entire stock of ice cream and lollies melt.
smiled. The pay was a joke, but there were other perks. Including I did; silently.
36 Writers
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FORUM #99
WF99JAN31.indd 6 24/11/2009 10:06:33
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