Chapter 8
It was almost closing time at the pub when Peter finally checked his watch and realised how long he and Gaby had been talking. The time had gone by much too quickly.
As they pulled on their coats and made their way outside, he was glad he’d asked her to help with the guest speaker gig at the school careers fair.
If he hadn’t done that, he now would’ve been trying to come up with some justification for why it was a good idea to ask her to get together again while she was still in Hamblehurst.
And while part of him knew it would just have been another quick drink, or maybe some dinner with an old friend whose company he’d enjoyed, another part of him would’ve known only too well that he was risking bringing disaster down on his own head by asking to spend more time with her.
Because after only a few hours in the pub, every single emotion he’d felt for Gaby all those years ago had been thoroughly reawakened.
Everything about her charmed and captivated him, just as it had when they’d been teenagers.
Her beauty, warmth, humour and adventurous spirit had only deepened as she’d grown from a girl into a woman.
Add in the confidence, style, success and ambition she’d cultivated in the years since he’d known her, and the end result was a woman who he simply couldn’t take his eyes off.
Peter held the door of the pub for her and she walked through ahead of him. The milky skin on the exposed nape of her neck looked even more appealing now than it had when they’d arrived, and that wasn’t just the beer talking.
“It’s freezing out here,” Gaby said, buttoning her coat as they started walking. “And frosty too.”
The pavements were covered with a soft white shimmer thanks to the plunging temperature. It was early in the season for frost but autumn brought all kinds of surprises in this tucked away corner of the South Downs.
And with a frost came a clear sky. Peter looked up and saw the moon and stars were still out.
“I wonder if there are any meteors up there tonight,” Gaby said, also looking up at the night sky before giving him a smile.
He laughed, thinking again of the memory he’d reminded her of from their shared summer when they’d watched the meteor shower from Blackberry Hill.
“We could head out of town and walk up to Blackberry Hill and find out,” he said.
“Not in these shoes I can’t,” Gaby said with a laugh.
“Yeah, I’m not walking that far in these shoes either.”
That got another laugh from her. He loved hearing it, loved the way it made him feel when her face lit up like that.
As they negotiated the lane’s slippery cobblestones, Gaby slid her hand through the crook of his arm.
“Don’t let me fall,” she said.
“Never.”
She smiled and Peter wished he saw something more than just warm companionship in it.
As they left the cobbled lane behind and began the climb up the high street, they made easy chit-chat.
Gaby shared a funny story about something that had happened on a cold frosty night like this one when she’d worked at a Salzburg hotel during the festive season and Peter listened and laughed, then shared an anecdote of his own about a debacle at last year’s school Christmas production of a musical version of A Christmas Carol when a snowstorm almost stopped their three student ‘ghosts’ arriving on time for the start of the show and he’d had to perform an emergency dash to each of their houses to collect them and avoid catastrophe.
She laughed at his stupid story, just as he hoped she would, and before he knew it they were turning onto Foxglove Street and nearing Gaby’s aunt’s house, their evening together almost over.
“I had a great time tonight, Peter,” Gaby said when they reached the front gate. “It was so nice catching up with you and finding out about what you’ve been up to.”
“Same here,” he said. “The evening went by too fast.”
“It really did.”
“And thanks again for agreeing to be our emergency guest speaker at the school careers fair on Tuesday.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Once I’m standing in front of your students and you realise I’m a shaking, quivering mess of incoherence, you’ll wish I’d turned you down.”
Peter laughed. “That won’t happen. And because I’m one hundred per cent sure it won’t happen, I want to say right now that I’d like to buy you dinner once the fair is over, to show my appreciation.”
It was a sneaky move, dressing up the dinner invitation as a token of thanks, but the truth was he needed the cover to convince himself that was the only reason he was doing it.
The bright smile on Gaby’s face dimmed a little and a hint of uncertainty clouded her expression.
Peter wondered if he’d made a mistake and misread their easy company and relaxed conversation, and wondered if she’d only agreed to help with the careers fair because he’d more or less ambushed her and now he was doing it again, offering to buy dinner and prolonging their time together.
The uncertainty lingered on her face for another long beat before her smile lifted again.
“Dinner sounds good. I’d like that.”
Peter grinned and tried not to look too deliriously relieved that she’d said yes. “I’ll book something for us and we can go straight there after the fair is over if that’s okay?”
“That’s fine with me.”
She shivered a little and Peter waved her towards the house. “Go on inside before you freeze.”
“Thanks again for a lovely night.”
“You’re welcome. Good night, Gaby.”
“Good night, Peter.”
She lingered for a moment, holding his gaze. It was all Peter could do not to step closer and kiss her. The urge was almost more than he could bear.
When she looked away and opened the garden gate, he almost blew out a breath of relief that the charged moment was over. The last thing he wanted was to ruin the night they’d shared by acting like a lunatic and doing something he’d regret.
Gaby waved when she reached the front door and Peter waved back and waited until she was safely inside the house before he started walking again.
As he continued along Foxglove Street to make his way home, he thought about the great night they’d had, about how much he’d loved talking to her and how easy it was to be in her company again.
The fifteen years they’d spent apart had vanished in an instant once they got comfortable together.
There’d been no awkwardness, no stilted conversation, no belated realisation that time had changed her into someone else entirely.
Of course, time had changed her, just as it had changed him. But it had changed Gaby into someone even more wonderful than she’d been back then. She was filled with energy and spirit and Peter found it impossible to resist her.
When they’d been together as kids, he couldn’t resist her either. But it was different then. They’d shared everything willingly—heart, body and soul—because they’d been madly in love.
Now, they were just old friends catching up on lost time. Peter knew this intellectually even as his body tried to tell him a different story. But if he believed that story, he’d be falling for a fantasy dreamt up by his own addled emotions.
When they’d been talking over drinks, there was a moment right before his phone rang when he’d almost confided something to her.
As they’d reminisced about their summer spent as a couple, he’d almost told her that he sometimes wondered what might have happened if things had been different, if they hadn’t gone their separate ways to different universities and if they’d somehow found a way to stay together.
Would they have had a happy ever after?
Peter knew the question was pointless. There was no way of knowing what might have happened if they’d chosen a different path.
What would that path have looked like? The two of them enrolling at the same university?
One of them dropping out to follow the other?
Would either of them have found their way to the careers they now loved if they’d made different choices back then?
It was unlikely.
And if they had stayed together, somehow, would their teenage love affair really have gone the distance into a long-term relationship?
Peter liked to think the answer was yes, but the truth was there was no way of knowing. Perhaps the sweet fling they’d shared had been so sweet precisely because they both knew it would never last beyond the summer.
If he was imagining there might have been a chance for marriage and kids with Gaby if their brief summer together had turned into something more, then he really was living in a fantasy world.
At least he’d been unable to blurt out his stupid thoughts to Gaby because his phone had rung. Their easy, relaxed conversation would almost certainly have come to a shuddering halt if he’d tossed that grenade into the proceedings.
And it’s not as if he’d spent the last fifteen years obsessing about her. He’d rarely thought of her because life moved on and you had to keep moving on too.
Yes, since they’d run into one another at the café the day before, he’d thought a lot about the summer they’d shared and how it had felt to be with her back then, but that was only natural.
But he couldn’t start dreaming of things that would never be, because Gaby was only back in Hamblehurst for a quick visit.
He thought of the cruise liner she’d be joining soon and how she’d sail off to work on board and enjoy a new adventure.
He thought of all the places where she’d worked in the past and the obvious pleasure she got from her life of adventure and travel.
There were probably countless such adventures waiting for her in the future.
A future Peter would play no part in, because once Gaby left she wouldn’t come back. She hadn’t come back to Hamblehurst during the fifteen years since her last visit—she’d told him that when they’d chatted at the pub—and there was no reason to imagine that would change in the future.
So, Peter had to accept that this time they’d share together would be brief. She’d only be back in his life for a few days and he had to be happy with that.
And he was happy with that. If he wasn’t, he never would’ve asked for her help with the careers fair and never would’ve asked her out to dinner.
As he continued walking towards his flat, he breathed in the cold night air and looked up at the stars and told himself to be grateful for any time with her at all.
It was an unexpected and fleeting gift and he wouldn’t ruin it by letting his imagination run wild with dreams that could simply never come true.