It Takes Two. Amber Aitken

girls stared thoughtfully at the questionnaire.

      “Right, that’s done then,” said Nicks. “Now for the Cupid Company poster.” She took out a clean sheet of paper and handed it to Coral. “Your turn.”

      Coral did like to make her mark. She knew exactly what she thought the poster should say too. First, she wrote: THE CUPID COMPANY – ALL FOR LOVE AND LOVE FOR ALL. And then she drew two hearts overlapping. Below this she wrote: We Are Your Matchmaking Specialists. Find Love and Live Happily Ever After. Our Work is Guaranteed.

      Nicks waited until she was done. “But it’s not really, is it?”

      “Not really what?”

      “Guaranteed.”

      “Oh, everyone says that. It’s just advertising talk.”

      “But we’re matchmakers, not plumbers. You can’t guarantee love.”

      It was just like Nicks to pooh-pooh her ideas. So Coral ignored her and drew another poster, just like the last one. Nicks picked up her own clean sheet of paper and drew a poster too, only she left out the bit about their matchmaking services being guaranteed. They were silent while they drew, and before long they had at least ten posters between them.

      “If we’re going to put posters up around Sunday Harbour we may as well hand out a few questionnaires to our friends at the same time,” suggested Nicks sensibly. “So we’ll need to make a few more of those too.”

      Coral frowned and stretched her aching fingers. “More questionnaires? Mmm. You get started…I won’t be long.” She slumped into her deckchair.

      Coral was excitable, but it wasn’t the long-lasting kind. Nicks knew this better than anyone. “We could stop by the post office on the way. I’m sure my mum will make photocopies of the questionnaire for us,” she suggested as she gathered herself up. It was handy having a mum who ran the post office. It also meant that they always had the best Christmas postage stamps for their cards.

      Coral suddenly jumped up too. “You’re brilliant, Nicks! We’ve got far more important things to see to, anyway.” She grinned at her friend, who replied with a harrumph.

      “She’s only making a few photocopies,” Nicks said with a sigh. Give Coral five minutes and she’d probably talk Nicks’s mum into helping them put the posters up too. She was possibly the most persuasive girl in Sunday Harbour!

      Coral nodded agreeably and stood with her hands on the deck railings as she surveyed the beach. She was considering some of the best places in Sunday Harbour for their posters. From the post office they could trot down to the lifeguards’ station. Come to think of it, Reggie who ran it usually went everywhere with his two brothers. They were always laughing, fooling about and playing pranks on each another. But it was probably time he met Mrs Reggie. It was just what you did when you got older. Coral made a mental note to hand him a questionnaire.

      Further along from the lifeguard’s station stood the community notice board. Mr Gelatti’s ice-cream van was always parked alongside it. And he always drew a crowd. There had to be an empty space for their poster on the notice board. This got her thinking about Mr Gelatti. He needed someone to keep him company while he sold ice cream; life inside an ice-cream van could be a lonely one. He definitely needed a questionnaire too.

      Of course they could also stop by the Seaside Store with its cotton sundresses and straw hats in the window. And what about the Treasure Chest, where they sold jewellery made out of shells. She’d seen posters in their window too. The Sundog Art Gallery also had notices and advertisements pinned to its front door. And Bicycles for Hire was only two doors down. Its manager was called Flat Tyre Francine and she was definitely the grumpiest person in Sunday Harbour. If anybody needed to find true love it was Flat Tyre Francine. Coral decided she would slip a questionnaire beneath the door of Bicycles for Hire too (they didn’t dare step inside, not even for love). The Cupid Company was ready to launch.

       6 love thy neighbour

      Now that the girls had the beach hut, each new day seemed more exciting than the last. Romeo loved it there just as much too. He’d wake Coral up every morning very early by licking her head and growling softly in her ear. He was a very busy dog. He had seagulls to chase (from the hut’s deck he could survey the beach and carefully select each bird for chasing). He had crabs to sniff out (even if he ran away as fast as a gale wind when he actually came across one). And he had fish to find (one day he would catch one for sure). So it was important he got to the beach early.

      One day when the girls arrived at Coral Hut, their neighbours – the ones who owned the khaki-painted hut with the camouflage netting on the roof – were already there. There was a very tall man with shoulders as big and wide as a ship’s lookout, and a woman who was as dainty as a sparrow. She noticed the girls and waved. He saluted.

      “Well, hello there, neighbours!” the woman called out cheerily. For a small person she was particularly loud.

      Of course the girls couldn’t just saunter past. It was polite and neighbourly to stop by. So they drew up to the khaki hut, took a breath and opened their mouths – but the woman was much, much quicker.

      “Welcome to Sunday Harbour’s beach hut community!” she cried out. “One of you must be little Coral.” Her eyes danced between the girls, but she didn’t pause long enough for either of them to reply. “Oh, how we loved your great-aunt. She was so special. She will be missed. But it’s lovely to have you as our new neighbours.” Finally she seemed to run out of words.