I met Pam on the beach when I was twelve. My family had just moved into the area and I was thrilled to be living so near the sea. I couldn’t wait to hear the roar of the ocean and feel the sand run through my fingers.
I noticed her as soon as I arrived. She was collecting shells. Her blonde, sun-kissed, wavy hair blowing ever so slightly in the breeze.
“How do you do.” I shot my hand out towards her. “I’m Jake.”
“Nice to meet you Jake. My name is Pam and I’m eleven.”
We became inseparable. First kiss two years later.
We went to different schools but would meet everyday at four in our special place on the sands. Pam was mature. Organised. Whereas I was tardy. She’d chastise me when I was late, asking where I’d been and what had taken me so long.
I’d apologise and she’d grab my hand and pull me towards the sea. Forgiven.
How I loved her.
When she turned sixteen we camped out among the dunes. Made love all night long. Virgins no more.
A few years later I went away to university. We tried to keep in contact but life got in the way. Pam stayed at home working at her parents fish and chip restaurant. She was their only child and would inherit it one day. ‘Frying Tonight’ was the most popular eating place for miles.
My family moved and I got a place just outside London, hoping to make my fortune. But instead I would dream of crashing waves and undulating dunes.
One weekend I couldn’t stand it any longer. Hopping in my car I drove without stopping to that beach. It was a blazing hot day. I took my shoes off and jumped onto a dune, my toes gripping the sand.
Life can fly by. I hadn’t seen Pam since I was nineteen. Fifteen years had passed. I thought I may pop into the restaurant before I left just in case she was still there.
But first I couldn’t resist looking for our spot. A really secluded hidden area; a dip in the whitest sands between two grassy banks.
I could hardly believe my eyes. There she was. Unmistakably her. Laying on a mat – naked – apart from a triangle of shells covering her mound.
“Pam!” I exclaimed.
Raising her sun glasses she stared over knowingly and asked, “Jake, what took you so long?”
Flash fiction, inspired by the photo of The Other Me. Used with kind permission.
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