I suppose when you look at the situation logically it was all the fault of the beach umbrella. I don't see how anyone could blame me and I doubt that Katrina would admit to any fault. It all happened on the day that a bunch of us decided to go to the beach.
The forecast for the Saturday was hot and getting hotter. A slight breeze, they said, but expect to be nicely cooked by the end of the day. We'd already had a stinking hot day on the Friday with the night bringing no real relief. When someone said they were going to head to the beach in the morning there was general agreement.
We didn't bother making up a time or arranging to go as a group. We all knew the beach that we generally congregated at and we'd just head that way in our own good time. Undoubtedly some of the gang would join up and travel as a group but others, like me, would just wander along as singletons.
I headed to the beach in the morning quite early. There was this spot along where the sand met the grassy dunes where I wanted to set up my little camp. For some reason, while the dunes and the sandy beach had a fairly straight (but ragged) line, there was one spot where it looked as though something had just taken a nice little bite out of the dunes.
Now I wanted that spot. It gave you a degree of privacy, with those grassy dunes almost circling the area, shielding you from view. When I got there my little spot was vacant and I laid claim to it.
I dumped my stuff to one side, spread my towel out and then grabbed the beach umbrella to give me some shade that I would be sure to need later.
Immediately after pulling the beach umbrella out of its case I had a few choice words to say to my sister. Too bad she wasn't there to hear them.
My beach umbrella has alternating dark blue and red panels. The umbrella I pulled out of my umbrella case was bright pink, with a white lacy frill around it. It was a proper beach umbrella, mind you, quite as large as the one I expected to find. My choices were no umbrella, drive back home and get my umbrella, or put up my sister's umbrella and look like an idiot.
Going home I ruled out immediately. Too far and I'd lose my spot. No umbrella, and I'd cook for sure. I've looked like an idiot before, so what did one more time matter? I put up that stupid pink umbrella.
After that I just loafed for a while, listening to some music and enjoying the sun. Hot, but not too hot at this stage. After half an hour or so of indolence I could hear the noise levels from the beach proper starting to rise. Assuming that various mates had arrived I got up and headed out to join in anything that was going on.
For the next couple of hours my mates and I disported ourselves along the beach and in the water. We rough-housed, we swam, we ogled the lovely ladies and in general acted like children. Or so the lovely ladies told us.
It was steadily getting hotter and I was getting thirsty so I figured I'd take a break, return to my little camp and have a cold drink.
Now I'd grabbed my little spot for the privacy it gave. Might I point out the word 'little'? My towel, when laid out, almost filled the area. You can imagine my irritation when I got back to my spot to find that my stuff had been crowded to one side and a second umbrella and towel were spread out. The towels were so close they actually overlapped.
Normally, this sort of interference with a chap's thing might have earned the offender an earful and a suggestion of what he could do with his stuff, but seeing said offender was lying on her towel sunbaking I didn't have the heart to tell her to push off.
I recognised Katrina. We were acquaintances, more than friends, although we did have friends in common. Katrina was about a year younger than me, not quite twenty, I think. She was also blonde and very nicely put together. Right now she was lying flat on her tummy, bikini top undone, working on her tan.
Deciding that I'd just have to put up with my neighbour, I settled down on my own towel, opened my Esky and grabbed a cold one. I popped the top and started enjoying a nice cold beer.
When Katrina heard the can pop she turned towards me and gave me a nasty look.
"Fuck off," she said sweetly. "I'm not interested."
"Ah, Katrina," I said, my voice full of sweet reasonableness, "may I point out that my things were here first? You're the one who's pushed your way onto my staked spot. If you don't want my company, feel free to move."
She sat up at that, unfortunately clutching her top to her when she did so.
She looked up at my pretty pink, lacy beach umbrella, and then back at me.
"Who are you trying to kid," she demanded. "You're trying to tell me that is your umbrella?"
"Not by choice," I explained. "My sister's to be exact. And why she put it in my umbrella case I have no idea. Today I'm stuck with it."
Looking at Katrina's indignant face I hazarded a guess.
