Ba-dum. Ba-dum.
There was nothing more terrifying than when it was possible to hear the sound of your own heartbeat. Olive’s was so loud it was all she was able to hear. And the pounding became louder with every jiggle of the door handle.
When the door opened, the sound of her heart constricting was so acute, Olive did wonder if it was possible she might end up hearing her own heart attack, the rush in her ears making her think it might already be happening.
Olive waited for the moment. The moment her heart would constrict so tightly it would never beat again. For the stabbing pain to come and take her. And if not that, then the intruder might get all stabby on her instead. Either way, there was a very real chance that in the next few minutes something sharp and sudden would finish her off. At least this way it would be over quickly.
The horror of it all was made worse by the fact she was rendered incapable of defending herself. There was nothing nearby to grab hold of and, even if there was, she didn’t think her arms would operate quickly enough to do anything about it.
Instead, all she could do was watch and wait and will her heart not to go into cardiac arrest at the point she was going to have to defend herself.
Despite being locked, the person had a key and the door opened with a thud.
Another thud.
It took a few seconds for Olive to realise the reason it wasn’t wide open with someone coming in was because the door was butting against the Segway.
It had fallen at such an angle it was stopping the door from opening.
Trying not to make a sound and thankful she was in a non-jingly Christmas jumper, Olive used her foot to gently nudge the Segway closer and held her weight against it to ensure the person didn’t manage to get in just by using a little added force.
Then nothing.
No shoving the door in an extra attempt to get in. No indication of what they were doing.
Olive willed the sound of rushing blood to quieten down in her ears. If there were any noises giving her a clue as to what was happening, she wasn’t able to hear them. It was tempting to move to get something to defend herself with. A gin bottle, perhaps? A batch of the mince-pie gin would do it, but if she moved, they were bound to push the door with force at that moment.
Not hearing anything for another couple of minutes, Olive opted to have a seat on the Segway and immediately regretted the decision. It was designed to be upright, not on its side, and it certainly wasn’t supposed to hold any weight at this angle.
For the second time that evening, Olive went and slipped. Once again, she did so without style or grace and ended up with her bum wedged between the wall and the Segway.
It was the most spectacularly awkward position to have got herself in. Her legs were folded up against her stomach and the only people who tended to adopt that kind of pose were divers and she was no Tom Daley.
She was also not in possession of the six-pack usually required to adopt this stance. So, getting out of it was also going to be a problem.
There was the other small technicality of someone still trying to gain entry to the beach hut. If they were still out there, they were bound to have heard her and, at this point in time, Olive wondered whether she should just ask for help. There was every possibility they might have plans to finish her off, but she was doing a pretty good job of attempting to do that herself.
Giving up any concerns about making noise, Olive did her best to wiggle herself out of her trap. It wasn’t going to do her any good if she ended up stuck here and was only discovered once the rigor mortis had set in. If she was going to meet her end, she planned to do so in a more ladylike posture.
Despite her best jiggling (and let’s face it, her best jiggling years were way past her), the Segway wasn’t moving. Nor was the wall, and as she could barely see in the dark, there was no way of telling if there was an easy way out of this.
One more jiggle and no joy, just a creak.
The door. The bloody door was open.
Whoever had been outside attempting to get in obviously hadn’t bothered to lock it. That meant two things. First… that if someone had left it open, it was likely they would be heading back. Whoever had been using her hut was in the habit of leaving it as close to normal as they could, albeit apart from the towels. And second, and rather more obviously, the door was open.
What was she doing titting about trying to lever herself out when there was an open exit?
Not caring too much about attackers any more, Olive pushed at the door and, to her immediate relief, it opened outwards.
The only problem was that she followed suit, flopping out of the opening as well. It wasn’t ideal, but at least she could breathe again now she wasn’t folded in half.
What was life coming to?
It was actually quite a nice view. She didn’t do enough lying on the floor looking up at the sky these days. And certainly not at this time of night, when the earth was still and the stars were jewels on a dark canvas.
It was probably one of the most beautifully surreal moments of her life. The calm of the world around her, the glorious view, all as a result of turning herself into the human wedgie of the century.
At least she wasn’t still stuck in that position, but that didn’t mean she knew how she was going to get up. Nor did she want to right at that moment. The view was too perfect to want to leave it without allowing it to embrace her for as long as they both could allow. Peace and tranquillity were such rare finds in the mayhem of life, it was important to embrace every second.
‘What are you doing?’
The upside-down face of Matron put an abrupt stop to any zen Olive was capturing from the stars.
It didn’t take much effort for Olive to realise this was the beach hut’s intruder. ‘It’s my hut. The question should be what are you doing here?’