Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
brODY
I wake with the sunrise, to the sound of waves and the call of birds.
I also wake with a giant hard-on, which is not surprising considering my dreams. Kate, all of them Kate.
The softness of her skin, the way she clung to me, caressing my body like she couldn’t get enough of it.
The touch of her tongue against mine, and the fire in her eyes when she murmured my name… fuck. It was incredible.
I ignore my own body, tell it to shut the hell up, and get dressed as quietly as I can. I don’t want to wake her, or see her, or give in to my urges to slam open the bedroom door and tear off her sheets. I’m not an animal, even if I feel like one right now.
I grab up my binoculars, and creep out of the cottage.
I need to be alone for a while to sort my head out.
I stalled her last night, telling her it was worth waiting for.
That was true, but it was also because I’m not sure.
I wasn’t sure right up until the moment I kissed her, then all doubt disappeared.
It was replaced by feeling out of control, and that’s not a state I enjoy.
Seeing her in the water like that. Seeing her trembling and cold and scared. It was big, dramatic, kicking up a hornet’s nest of emotion. All of that fed into what happened between us – the way our bodies ignited together.
It would have been so easy to carry on, to let our need take over, but I knew it wouldn’t be right.
I needed time, even if it went against every instinct I had.
It’s not fair to Kate to keep her trapped on this runaway train – I can’t reject her then seduce her then reject her again.
I have to slow things down, figure shit out, and I won’t be able to do that while I’m under the same roof as her.
There’s a chill in the air that is exactly what I needed.
The wind has died down, and the sea is back to a gentle roll, early morning sunlight glittering on the water.
I see the fishing boats heading out for a day’s work, and think, hah, screw you, Xander.
You might be hot, but you’re not the right horse.
Real mature, Brody.
I stomp along the shoreline, stopping for a while to watch the sand martins flutter in and out of their cliff nests.
I walk on, clambering over some rocks and emerging at yet another stretch of beach.
This one is even more secluded, the bright yellow gorse tumbling down towards me, dotted with vivid wildflowers.
It’s quite the sight, and as I turn the next corner, it gets even better.
The noise tells me I’m about to see something special, and I’m not wrong.
The cliffs and the rocks are alive with birds.
Thousands of them, squawking and whistling and crying, soaring in the air and perched on nests.
Gannets are circling over the sea, then plunging down to catch their breakfast. I see the dark brown backs of guillemots, and hear the sweet, high-pitched cry of razorbills.
Damn, I think, gazing around me. This is bird heaven.
I spend a while exploring, taking photos, and making a quick recording of the sound on my phone, because it’s like nothing else I’ve ever experienced – a weird orchestra of clashing calls.
Eventually, my ears catch hold of a new addition – the low croaking moan of a puffin.
It’s a strange cry, a cross between an old man’s snore and a chainsaw, and I’ve only ever heard it online before.
I freeze, and slowly move my binoculars over the cliffs.
I’m kind of in love with puffins, and feel excited to be so close to them.
They’re cool birds, returning to the same nesting sites every year, producing a single egg.
Plus, a baby puffin is called a puffling, which has got to be the cutest thing ever.
Shannon will get a kick out of that, and so will Kate.
Huh, I think, settling my ass down on a damp boulder, when did Kate get added to my list of people to tell fun stuff to? My list that for years now has included only one name – Shannon’s. Jeez, that must have put a lot of pressure on her. Imagine being your dad’s only sounding-board.
I shake my head a little. Now is not the time for thinking.
Now is the time for watching. After a few minutes, I find them.
A small colony off to the west, some flying in with fish in their bright orange beaks, others popping their heads out of their burrowed nests in the cliff face.
I’ve got a big dumb grin on my face, and I couldn’t be happier.
Puffins, man. The cure for all evil in the world.
I sit there for the best part of an hour, enjoying the solitude and the sights.
The sun is warming my skin, and when I lick my lips I taste salt.
It calms me, and even though I’m very much a lapsed Catholic, I offer up a little prayer of thanks.
I say hi to Sandy too, and for once thinking of her makes me smile, instead of making me want to cry.
She’d love it here – but she’d also love that I’m here, doing this thing.
Moving on, maybe. Words that would have struck terror into my heart only a week ago.
Moving on… people always say it like it’s a good thing.
Unless they’ve been there, they don’t get it.
They don’t understand that moving on also means leaving something behind, and you can’t do that until you’re good and ready.
Am I? Am I good and ready? Who knows – but I’m definitely enjoying the puffins.
Wishing I’d brought coffee now, I move back along the coast in the direction of the bay. I get out my phone, wonder if it’s too early to call Shannon. The messaging app tells me she’s online, so what the hell.
‘Dad!’ she says brightly, the sound of her familiar voice warming an already pretty warm heart. ‘I was just thinking about you!’
‘I knew that. I have an app that monitors your thoughts.’
‘That wouldn’t surprise me. How are you?’
‘I’m terrific, sweetheart. I just saw a gannet colony, and puffins – real life puffins!’
She laughs and says: ‘Aw Dad, you sound like a kid on Christmas morning! That’s great, it really is. Were they everything you’d hoped they would be?’
‘More. It’s… well, it’s quite a place up here, I tell ya. I wish you could see it.’
‘So do I. But you’re only there for a few weeks, aren’t you? Term doesn’t end for a while. Though I met a guy from the same area, and he says you can get flights up to Aberdeen, so maybe I could manage a long weekend? It’d be great to see you. I miss you.’
‘Are you sure about that?’ I ask, faking a stern voice. ‘I bet you’re up to all kinds of mischief without me to keep an eye on you! So, who’s this guy then?’
‘I’ll tell you about him if you tell me about Kate.’
Huh. I’ve raised her right – she’s negotiating. ‘Deal. You first.’
‘Well, he’s called Andrew, but everyone calls him Drew, and he’s a philosophy postgrad. You’d like him.’
I’m not so sure about that. I come from a world where philosophy means ‘how many doughnuts can you fit in a squad car?’, not the big questions of life. ‘He has a 1970 Suzuki T500,’ she adds, knowing she’s playing a winning hand. ‘It was his dad’s, and he restored it himself.’
‘Well, it’s a classic. Make sure you wear your helmet if you go out with him, okay?’
Being a parent makes hypocrites of us all. I have a motorcycle, in fact I have two, but when it comes to Shannon? I’d rather she drove round in a Volvo, ideally wearing body armour.
‘Of course, Dad. Well, it’s early days, but he’s nice. Right. Kate. She’s super pretty, isn’t she? She looks like she belongs on a wild moor in her nightgown…’
I laugh, and ponder the image. I find I like it a little too much.
‘She’s from London, and very much a city girl. But yeah, there is a wild side to her I guess… she’s a bit unpredictable.’
‘That’s not a bad thing, Dad. Your whole life has been predictable for too long now. I know you’re cautious, but you’re on vacation – maybe it’s time to loosen up?’
‘Hmmm. That’s kind of what she said. And look, it’s nothing serious. She lives here, I live in the States. It’s just a friends thing, really.’
‘Right. Well, maybe you can enjoy some benefits along the way. I’m all for it, Dad – just don’t share any of the gross details, okay?’
She pauses, and I know her well enough to almost see the wheels turning in her mind.
‘I know it’s been hard,’ she says. ‘I know you miss Mom. We both do. But it’s been years, and she’d want you to have some happiness, some fun in your life.
So do I. You don’t need my blessing, but you have it anyway. ’
As soon as I hear those words, I realise I’ve been waiting for them.
That I did need her blessing after all. Shannon is the most important person in my life, and I would never do anything that would upset her.
‘Thanks, honey,’ I mutter, a dumper truck of emotion suddenly choking me up.
‘I’m gonna go now. I think I see dolphins. ’
‘Oh my God! Go! I love you!’
I hang up, and slide the phone back into my jeans pocket. Damn. It seems like I have something in my eye again.
I was lying about the dolphins, because I’m not man enough to voluntarily cry to my daughter. But now, as I stare out at the sea, I think maybe I wasn’t lying after all. I see some distinctive shapes out there, and put the binoculars to my face.
I laugh out loud as I watch them – a small pod, leaping and playing, the sunlight shimmering on their backs as they splash through the water. Puffins and dolphins. Could this day get any better?
Yeah, I think, striding purposefully back to the cottage. It sure as hell could. The walk and the birds and the talk with Shannon have all worked their magic. I need to get out of my own way, and live a little.