6. Thomas
6
THOMAS
‘ I ’m not really sure about this, Bligh,’ Thomas said to his brother-in-law.
‘It’ll do you good.’ Bligh patted him on the shoulder. ‘Kind of like physio for the body and mind.’
Thomas took a deep breath as he tried to keep up with Bligh’s long strides. His sister’s husband was six-foot-six, six inches taller than Thomas, which meant Bligh’s legs had the advantage. Plus, of course, Thomas had the injuries to his left leg that always slowed him down. He pushed himself onwards though, aware that they needed to make it to the café before sunrise.
He stifled a yawn. Bligh was an early riser, he knew, as he was often up early to catch some waves or to work on tattoo designs before the rest of the house woke. Bligh and Marnie had twin girls aged six, and Marnie was six months pregnant with their third child. They’d been together for years and were very content, something that made Thomas happy because it meant that some relationships did work out.
‘I hope you’re excited about seeing my downward dog.’ Bligh ushered Thomas through the gate to the café gardens then followed him in.
‘I can hardly wait,’ Thomas muttered, aware that watching his brother-in-law contorting himself into a variety of positions was not going to be his idea of relaxing.
They followed the path around to the side of the café where they found a semi-circle of yoga mats laid out. Hanging lanterns created a warm golden light around the area along with stick solar lights, while the rest of the gardens lay in shadows.
‘Hello, gents.’ Pearl Draper smiled at them from a mat placed at the centre of the semi-circle.
‘Hi Pearl,’ Bligh replied while Thomas raised his hand in a wave.
They selected a mat each then sat down cross-legged to wait. Soon, more people arrived, and the mats filled up. Thomas closed his eyes and focused on breathing slowly while he waited, barely aware of the people settling around him. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad after all. In fact, he’d have to try not to nod off.
When Bligh had called at his house to collect him, he’d been wearing a pair of black shorts and a hoodie, but he’d removed the latter to reveal a black vest. He was very muscular with tattoos over every inch of his arms, chest, back and neck. Thomas often found his eyes drawn to Bligh’s skin that he thought resembled a detailed map. With his bald head and bushy black beard, Bligh reminded Thomas of a Viking warrior, but the irony was that Bligh was a gentle giant. He was a loving husband and father and a good friend to Thomas. His appearance meant that people sometimes got the wrong impression of him but once they got to know him, they found that he had a warm heart and would do anything to help anyone. Bligh absolutely doted on Marnie and the girls and Thomas was happy that his sister had found someone to love her the way Bligh did.
Thomas rarely wore shorts these days because he was conscious of how his leg looked and so he'd opted for loose jogging bottoms and a baggy black T-shirt. He thought the clothes should be fine for yoga because he had room to move in them and wouldn’t be worried about his leg distracting anyone. When he opened his eyes again, he saw that most of the other people who’d come for the class were wearing fitted tops and trousers, including Pearl, who looked the part of yoga teacher with her bright pink and black spandex outfit and matching headband.
‘OK then… Good morning, everyone. Thank you for joining me here for sunrise yoga.’ Pearl beamed at them from her mat where she was sitting with her legs crossed, her feet resting on her thighs. Thomas knew just from looking at her that there was no way he’d get his legs into that position because sitting with his legs crossed like this was hard enough. Perhaps Bligh was right, he did need to do some exercise that would improve his flexibility. ‘Close your eyes for me and we’ll do some breathwork first to relax you all.’
Pearl talked them through some slow breathing with a focus on using different parts of their lungs. Thomas drifted on a cloud of relaxation as he listened to her soothing voice and the warbling of a blackbird nearby that seemed to have joined them for the yoga session. When Pearl told them to open their eyes again, Thomas blinked a few times as he rejoined the class, then Pearl told them to lie on their backs and to gaze up at the sky.
Thomas lay down and looked up, watching as the sky brightened, navy turning to lilac then peach and lavender. The blackbird was joined by other birds all singing their hearts out in appreciation of the new dawn.
When the sky glowed golden, banishing the shadows to the corners, Pearl took them through a gentle routine of stretching and poses, reminding them to breathe so their bodies and minds were linked through the breath. Thomas did what he could, taking care not to strain, and he found it was good to move his body again, to feel his muscles and tendons stretching out the way they were meant to do. During one pose, he found his gaze drawn to Bligh and he was filled with admiration for the large man. Bligh was incredibly flexible and had total control of his body as he held the poses, his movements fluid and graceful as he went from one pose to the next. Marnie was a yoga fan too but someone had needed to stay with the girls, so she’d remained at home, keen to grab some more sleep anyway as her advanced pregnancy was making it harder for her to get comfy at night.
When Pearl had settled them into a sitting position again, she told them all to send out a thank you to the universe for their bodies that could move, and for the new day stretching ahead. Thomas did as she instructed, and his heart swelled with gratitude.
Suddenly, there was yelping from behind him, so he turned to see a woman rolling around holding her foot.
‘Cramp!’ she said. ‘Oh… dammit.’
‘Straighten your foot out,’ he said instantly. ‘It will pass as long as you breathe and get that foot straight.’
‘Can’t!’ She sat up, eyes wide with pain, and he recognised her as the woman he’d spoken to a few days before in the gardens.
The journalist.
Shit!
Was she following him? Keen for a story?
The urge to get up and leave rushed through him, but he was held in place by his concern for her as she grimaced and tried to straighten her foot.
‘Come here,’ he said, reaching for her foot.
Taking it between both hands, he eased it straight then rubbed his thumbs into the sole and up towards the toes, easing the tension away and warming it at the same time. He kept his eyes on her foot, hoping she wasn’t staring at the scar on his face, yet realising it didn’t matter if she was. People stared out of interest, concern and disgust and he knew he was powerless to stop them.
‘Do you have some water?’ he asked.
Nodding she picked up a metal bottle.
‘Drink some. You could be dehydrated.’
She took a long drink and then another and Thomas kept kneading her foot until he felt the tension seeping away. ‘Oh… That feels so much better. Thank you.’
‘Good.’ He looked down at her foot and rubbed each of the toes in turn then gave the sole another massage for good measure. ‘There you go. It should be OK now, but you need to make sure you drink plenty today and keep that foot warm. Do you have some socks with you?’
She shook her head. ‘I wore my lined Crocs.’
‘Hold on.’ He turned around and grabbed his rucksack then pulled out the clean socks he’d thrown in there just in case he needed them. ‘These are clean.’
He unrolled them then slid the one onto her foot and pulled it up over the hem of her spandex leggings. He slid the other one onto her right foot then sat back on his heels.
‘Thank you so much,’ she said. ‘That was so kind of you. My foot tensed up so tight I could barely catch my breath.’
‘It’s no problem,’ he said, trying not to notice how her yoga gear clung to her curves and how some of her hair had fallen out of the bun. The red waves now brushed against her slender neck where her pulse throbbed under creamy skin. ‘Make sure you stay warm enough,’ he said gruffly.
He turned away from her and made a point of stretching his neck, his arms and of closing his eyes for a moment. Thomas knew this woman was a journalist and he had his reasons to hate them, but he’d found himself helping her when she’d been in pain. It seemed that despite his misgivings about her, Thomas couldn’t help but be kind, and nothing, not even his past was going to change that about him.
When the session was over, he helped tidy the yoga mats away into the storage shed that was tucked against the hedge then joined Bligh who was talking to Pearl.
‘I was just saying to Pearl that I’ve worked up an appetite,’ Bligh said.
‘I could eat.’ Thomas nodded.
‘I have plenty of fresh eggs from the chickens so come on inside and let me whip up some breakfast.’ Pearl led the way across the gardens to the café.
While Pearl went through to the kitchen, Thomas and Bligh sat at a table near the counter. Other people from the class filed inside and sat at tables, chatting to friends, keen to enjoy a delicious breakfast. The low murmur of conversation soon filled the café, along with the frothing of the coffee machine and the hum of the fridges.
Bligh showed Thomas several videos on his phone that he found amusing, as well as some images of tattoos he was considering having done. Thomas nodded while wondering where Bligh would find the space on his skin.
‘You know, Thomas, you could consider having a tattoo done.’
‘Me?’ Thomas hadn’t ever really thought about having a tattoo. He didn’t like needles and had encountered his fair share of them when he’d been in hospital.
‘Yeah, you could have one done on your leg. Something large to go over the scar.’ Thomas met Bligh’s eyes. ‘I think the scar looks pretty cool, Thomas, but I know you don’t like it.’ Bligh didn’t look away, his gaze was filled with concern and sincerity.
‘I hate it,’ Thomas replied truthfully.
‘So why not turn it into something you do like? People do that. Some women who’ve had breast cancer and mastectomies have tattoos done on their chests. It makes them feel that they’re taking back control over their bodies. Perhaps it would do the same for you.’
Thomas frowned as he thought about Bligh’s point. ‘That’s a good idea, actually. I’ll think about it.’
‘No pressure from me, you know that. But I’d love to create a design for you if you decide to go for it.’
‘Thanks Bligh.’
‘No problem. OK, what do you want to eat because I’ll go and order?’
Once Thomas had decided, Bligh went to the counter and Thomas sat back and pulled his phone from his bag then browsed the screen. In days gone by, his phone would have been red hot from the moment he woke until he fell into bed, but now, things were different. He’d changed his number for starters, so he’d get some peace and so he couldn’t be traced.
‘Hello.’
He looked up to find the journalist standing near the table. She worried at her bottom lip and held her bag against her body like a shield. Was she frightened of him?
‘Oh, hi.’
‘I wanted to say thanks again for helping me get rid of the cramp. I’m very grateful. Could I get you a coffee or something to eat to say thank you?’
Thomas gestured at the counter. ‘My brother-in-law is ordering for us, but thanks. There’s no need anyway. I just did what anyone else would have done.’
‘Not everyone would be so kind, believe me. What about your socks? I mean, how do I get them back to you?’ She looked down and he followed her gaze to the white sports socks and her lined green Crocs. Something about the Crocs made his chest squeeze because it made her seem human, vulnerable, real. Surely there was nothing hard or pretentious about a woman who wore green lined Crocs?
‘Keep them.’ He shrugged.
‘I can’t do that. I have to return them to you or replace them.’ She held his gaze, and he found himself captivated by her soft grey eyes, by what he thought was sincerity within them.
‘Honestly, it’s no problem. I have loads of socks.’ And he did, because as a footballer he’d been given lots of freebies from sportswear companies and had more socks than he’d need for a lifetime.
‘Oh… OK then. Thanks.’ She chanced a smile, and he noticed how it made her face even prettier. She’d removed the clip holding her hair up and now her red waves caressed her cheeks, hung tantalisingly against her neck and teased her collar bones.
A warning shot through his head. She probably used those looks to entrap people into believing she was good, honest, trustworthy, then she’d sell them out for a story. For a headline. For whatever she wanted, exactly like all the other journalists he’d encountered. The last thing he wanted was to become another headline. He just wanted a peaceful life now.
‘Hello there!’ Bligh had returned to the table, and he smiled down at the woman, making her look tiny in comparison.
She turned and peered up at him and Bligh held out his hand.
‘Bligh Kellow. Pleased to meet you,’ he said in his deep, rumbling voice.
‘Lena Teller,’ she replied as she shook his hand.
‘How do you know Thomas?’ Bligh asked, looking over at him.
‘Thomas?’ she asked.
‘Oh, you haven’t been properly introduced?’ Bligh laughed. ‘Sorry, guys. Thomas Dryden this is Lena Teller.’ Bligh’s eyes were filled with curiosity, but he was sensitive enough to read the room. He was certainly able to think on his feet.
‘Hello Thomas,’ Lena said. ‘It’s lovely to be properly introduced.’
‘Hi Lena.’ He coughed to clear his throat; wishing Bligh would stop staring at him like that.
‘Right then… Are you sure I can’t get you anything?’ Lena asked.
‘No thanks. I’m good.’ Thomas folded his arms over his chest and nodded to confirm that he really was fine. Would be even better if this conversation ended and he could enjoy the coffee Bligh had bought for him in peace.
‘Nice to meet you both.’ Lena turned and walked away, and Thomas looked down at the mug of coffee.
‘You two just met?’ Bligh asked, taking the seat opposite Thomas.
‘We… uhm… met the other day but I didn’t get her name and then in yoga she got a cramp in her foot.’
‘She seems nice.’
‘I wouldn’t know.’ Thomas gave a one shoulder shrug then realised he was doing a fair bit of shrugging.
‘Well, I think she does anyway. Has she moved here or is she on holiday?’
‘Not sure.’ Thomas almost shrugged again but he caught himself in time.
‘Right.’ Bligh frowned then he wrapped his big hands around his mug. ‘She seemed to like you.’
Thomas coughed and took a sip of coffee. ‘I wouldn’t know.’
‘Yeah, she does. First impressions and all that… I think she liked you, but you were being a bit cold.’
‘And?’ Thomas shook his head. ‘What are you now, Cilla Black?’
‘What?’ Bligh frowned.
‘Trying to set me up on a blind date.’
‘Oh!’ Bligh laughed. ‘Not exactly blind though is it, seeing as how you know each other now.’
‘Yes but… no, don’t even go there.’ Thomas scowled at Bligh. ‘I am not interested and neither is she.’
Bligh held up his hands and smiled. ‘Hey… I’m not interfering, Thomas. But I haven’t seen you react like that to a woman in years.’
‘Like what?’ Thomas realised his voice was a bit harsh, so he sighed. ‘Like what?’ There was resignation in his tone now.
‘All hot and bothered. You were blushing.’
‘No, I wasn’t.’
‘OK.’ Bligh laughed. ‘Have it your way.’
Thomas feigned interest in his phone and Bligh fell silent, but when he peered at him over the screen, his brother-in-law was smiling broadly as if he knew something Thomas didn’t. He lowered his gaze to his phone and decided to ignore whatever it was that Bligh was laughing about. Bligh had a heart of gold, but he was also a massive tease and when he got an idea in his head it was hard to dissuade him from it.
‘How about something like this?’ Thomas said, placing his phone on the table in front of Bligh. He’d searched for leg tattoos and found something that he thought he might like to have done.
‘Yeah, I like that. I could do that for you but with some tweaks to make it unique.’
‘Food for thought,’ Thomas said, a sense of hope stirring in his gut. The idea of having something he wanted on his leg instead of the ugly red scars was liberating and definitely something he’d like to look into going forwards.
When Pearl served them their breakfasts, they talked some more about the tattoo ideas and Thomas realised it was probably one of the best ideas Bligh had ever had. And while they ate, he tried not to notice that Lena was sitting at the window seat on the green leather sofa and that she glanced over at him every so often as if keen to catch his eye. She was sitting alone, and he wondered if she knew anyone else in the village yet. He didn’t like to see people eating alone, especially not beautiful women like Lena. She might not be such a bad person after all, as Bligh had suggested, and perhaps he’d been wrong to judge her so quickly.
But what did he know? He’d trusted people before and look where it had got him. He shook himself inwardly then returned his focus to Bligh and their tattoo search, keen to forget about the way Lena had looked into his eyes. Keen to forget about the way he had responded to her as if there was already a connection between them, and as if something inside him recognised something in her. He blamed Marnie for making him watch all those romance movies. It was turning him soft, and he needed to get a grip or he’d be as soppy as his pregnant sister soon and what good would that do him?
Thomas had his reasons for needing to stay strong and he would do whatever was necessary to stay that way. There was no room for a vulnerable heart in his life — not his or someone else’s. None. Not now and not ever.
But as he bit into his bacon sandwich, he wondered exactly who he was trying to convince. What if there was another way to live?