But this night, he was feeling jaded - the usual pleasures of the quiet office did not touch him. He felt restless and couldn’t concentrate on the report he was writing about Quality Accreditation.

He found his attention drifting out to the beach where a small group had started a campfire. More people came and the voices rose and fell in the changing breeze against the backdrop of the regular pulse of the waves washing on the sand. The life on the beach contrasted with the dullness he felt. Laughter rang out, a guitar started a tune. Stark shut it out and focussed on the last sentence he had written. He tapped out another wooden sentence as dull as the previous one.

The small wind blew the party noises away from him, he concentrated again. In this way, he struggled through another page of text. Then the breeze turned and brought the sounds on the beach to him louder than before. The random noises coalesced in his mind in sudden recognition. He heard a strong female voice singing

‘Come in,’ she said, "I’ll give ya, shelter from the storm.!

The guitarist strummed loudly.

Stark stood and opened the window - the warm, fresh air washed over him as he watched the shadowy figures around the fire down on the beach. He listened to the clear voice of the singer....

Now there's a wall between us, something that's been lost
I took too much for granted, got my signals crossed
Just to think that it all began on an uneventful morn
'Come in,' she said, 'I'll give ya-a-a, shelter from the storm.'

He opened the door to the deck and walked down the few steps to the beach. He paused to take off his shoes and socks and he walked onto the sand. The group around the fire were swaying with the music - the singer and guitarist were in total control, even the fire seemed to flame in time with the beat.

Stark felt the darkness behind him and stayed back in the shadows. The song ended triumphantly with laughter, hugs and refilling of glasses. Suddenly he felt out of place and edged back towards the building. He heard a soft movement behind him and looked back. He was surprised to see the singer moving intently towards him and he turned back to face her.

She laughed as she took him by the arm and pulled him towards the fire. The wind flicked her hair and skirt around her as she said,

"You’re not getting away as easily as that."

He smiled and allowed himself to be steered towards the gathering. Someone handed him a beer and the singer stood at his shoulder exchanging banter with the group. He felt her warmth at his back and allowed himself to join in.

The guitarist was picking out notes and strumming chords. Suddenly a tune emerged. A howl went up and half the group began to sing. The singer who had collected him put down her glass and began to dance. Bodies turned and moved to the beat in the dim light of the fire. Stark couldn’t help but move to the music too. The singer took the can from his hand and, holding both his hands, began to teach him some fancy footwork in the sand.

Stark felt his mood lighten as he moved to the music. He was caught in the rhythm of the guitar and the chorus of voices - balanced by the breeze on his face and the regular splash of waves along the sand. His feet picked up the new footwork and he stepped out confidently adding his voice to the chorus.