Chapter 4 #2
‘Threesomes?’
‘Twosomes.’
‘Why not? He’s hot, you’re hot.’
‘Casual’s . . . not my thing.’ Casual’s never been my thing, but it’s extra not my thing to get with my friend’s brother when I don’t even have many friends to begin with. My thing is more on the lines
of sharing a mortgage and reserving adjoining burial plots.
I don’t make a habit of talking about my sex life with people I just met, but I get the feeling Jude has the enviable quality of not caring a single bit what other people do, so I say, ‘Even with my ex, it was just . . . fine. I could kind of take it or leave it.’
‘That might say more about your ex than you, to be fair,’ she muses.
It’s a throwaway comment, but it stops me in my tracks for a second while I think it through. The issue is definitely me.
It has to be, right? Jeremy never had any issues enjoying himself.
I make up the step I missed, and Jude’s eyes flash with tease. ‘Well, if you ever get the urge to twosome, an objectively
attractive man is right there. In your house. Mere metres away.’
‘Oh my god, stop,’ I say through a laugh. ‘Are you his publicist or something?’
She laughs again too, and my heart warms a little. Jeremy never thought I was particularly funny, and I still feel a quick
burst of pride any time I get a laugh out of someone new.
A few minutes after we reach the small group waiting outside reception, David asks, ‘Is everyone here?’
Everyone assents, but Jude announces, ‘We’re waiting for one person.’ I shrink down instinctively as everyone looks our way.
She lifts a hand to mark Max’s height in the air and continues, ’Tall, dark-haired, has a bit of a god complex. Anyone seen
him?’
Just as I splutter a laugh, a deep voice from behind us says, ‘You called?’
I turn and Max is sauntering up the path, hood up, one hand lifted in a wave until he stops between Jude and me. Blue eyes
meet mine, dark brows mostly hidden by the mess of hair sticking out from his hood, and his mouth tilts in a curious grin.
It’s not fair that he looks the way he does. Attractiveness should only be given to people who deserve it. People who are
organised and tidy and respect punctuality. It definitely shouldn’t be given to people who know how to wield it.
David smiles. ‘Perfect. Let’s head down, then!’
With that, the entire group makes a move, with Max and me bringing up the rear.
I notice Patrick struggling with his pizza at the same time Max does, and we step forward in sync to help.
‘I’ve got it,’ I tell him, taking a couple of trays off Patrick’s hands.
Max lifts his hands in surrender and turns to David instead, who’s carrying a cooler box and leaning to the side with the
weight of it.
‘Let me,’ Max says, offering a hand.
Patrick nudges the box with his foot and gives his husband a knowing look. ‘You won’t die if you let him carry the beers,
David.’ After David’s handed the box over, the couple move ahead to lead the group, bickering as they go.
I follow Jude in single file, with Max bringing up the rear, and he calls out, ‘Really appreciate all your help with this,
Jude.’
‘You’re so welcome!’ she replies, as insincerely. ‘Between us we’ve got it covered. Food, drink,’ she points behind her shoulder
at me and Max respectively without turning around, before landing on herself, ‘and entertainment.’
‘And how do you intend to entertain us this evening?’ Max asks.
‘My witty repartee?’ she suggests, and my shoulders shake with a laugh.
‘You have to stop laughing at her jokes,’ Max tells me. ‘You’re encouraging her.’
‘It’s okay that Dylan thinks I’m funnier than you. Better luck next time.’
With Jude around, I feel a little safer. It’s the kind of dynamic I didn’t know I was missing until recently, and one I’m
slowly rediscovering; first with Ava, now here.
Before things ended with Jeremy, I hadn’t realised how small my world had become. My two best friends from school had left
London to find houses and engagement rings and babies, while I stayed in the city working part-time and studying at the Open
University.
Jeremy was the only person I regularly spent time with outside of work and family, usually in his ultra-sleek Canary Wharf
flat, somehow both a world and only a few Tube stops away from my family home. It just felt like it was what people in relationships
did. And then suddenly we weren’t in a relationship anymore and all I had was empty space where a life used to be.
The friendship I’ve built with Ava has made me feel a little more like myself. Maybe being friends with Jude can do the same.
We’ve trailed behind the group, and by the time we get to David holding open a gate, we find ourselves at the top of a cliff,
views of the Atlantic stretching in all directions, the evening sun hitting the water like shooting stars.
Jude sets off down the gravel path winding down to a wide beach, but I can’t help but freeze in place and let out a quiet,
‘Woah.’
Max’s hand presses into the small of my back as he steadies himself to avoid bumping into me. It only lasts a second before
he pulls it away, taking a low warmth with it.
‘Sorry,’ I mutter, goosebumps flecking on my skin.
‘It’s fine.’ He comes to stand next to me and expels a long breath. ‘This is unreal.’
We stand there for a moment, Max’s body heat bleeding into the cool skin of my arm, looking out at the view. I’m going to
be living here for six weeks, seeing this every day. It’s so starkly different from my life back home that awe mixes with
a hint of overwhelm.
Then the truth of his statement hits me. It isn’t real. These kinds of moments might be normal for someone like Max, but it’s not real life for me.
The creak of the gate closing behind us is accompanied by David’s gruff voice. ‘I’ve lived in Pembrokeshire my whole life
and it never gets old. I hope it never does.’
‘I’m so jealous,’ I say, the truth slipping out on to the wind.
Max throws me a curious look while I adjust my pizza trays, then leads the way down the track towards the beach, knee-high
grass brushing his legs when he steps too close to the edge.
‘This path is a bit of a nightmare for me at the moment,’ David says amidst the crunching of gravel. ‘The old camp–sorry,
resort, I keep forgetting to call it that–was even worse, so we’ve been working on making the whole thing more accessible. The activities,
too. It might be na?ve to admit, but there’s a lot more to it than I expected.’
‘My sister’s best friend has worked in accessibility consulting,’ Max says. ‘I bet she could put you in contact with someone local to you who could advise.’
‘That’d be great. I didn’t realise how much else there was to do before our official opening, and I’ve just found out I’m
going to be off my feet for a while after an operation on my hip.’
Max’s head whips around at this, and he says, ‘I know a little about that.’
Jude’s stopped midway along the path, waiting for us to catch up, and she falls into step next to me as we pull away from
Max and David, now engaged in intense conversation.
By the time we join the others, they’re perched in a circle on various blankets, and I set my pizzas in the middle. We’re
instructed to take whatever we want from the cooler box and homemade pizza, courtesy of Eileen, the resort’s chef.
Jude, Max and I share a blanket; Jude on her stomach on my left, Max leaning back on his hands on my right, and me sitting
with my knees up in the middle.
‘Do you know everyone here?’ I ask.
Jude shakes her head. ‘Only Max. I don’t think I’ve ever met any of the others.’
‘I only really know Fiona and Greg,’ Max says. He points at the older couple directly opposite, mid-chat with my bus-mate
Bertie. ‘The Mayweathers. They’ve been together for, like, a million years, and their whole thing is couples’ retirement content.
Kind of iconic, honestly.’
I finish my one and only beer of the evening and consider the jarring thought that by the end of this trip, these people won’t
be strangers. It’s disconcerting, but it turns into a tiny seed of hope. Maybe I’ll have new friends. Maybe Jude will want
to meet up for a coffee when I’m back home. Maybe I’ll even learn how to deal with Max without requiring an Ava- or Jude-shaped
buffer.
David, ever the host, raises his voice over the wind. ‘How about a question to get to know each other? What does everyone
want to achieve on this trip?’
‘Six weeks away from the Tube,’ someone quips.
‘Convince people to make an effort to explore the country they live in,’ someone else calls out.
‘I’d really like to embrace the situational energy of this place,’ Bertie says. ‘I’ve heard rumours there’s a vortex around
here—’
‘He’s heard rumours there’s a vortex around here,’ Max repeats, quiet enough that only Jude and I can hear. Jude elbows him, but I can tell she’s trying not to laugh.
‘—And it’d be amazing to use these energy reserves in the land to push me forward in my decision-making.’
‘Genuinely, what is he saying? Do either of you know?’
Other people start throwing out what they hope to achieve on the trip, and the night fills with chatter around us before Jude
looks at me to say, ‘Don’t think I didn’t notice you didn’t tell us about your goals for the trip.’
‘I think I just want to make the most of it.’
‘In what way?’
‘I just . . . I know I’ll feel like I’m squandering this opportunity if I don’t say yes to everything. So while I’m here,
before I get back to my normal life, I want to try everything there is to try, if that makes sense?’ I clear my throat and
go on, ‘So I guess that’s my goal. Saying yes. Try something new every day.’
As I say it, it feels right. Because if I can find ways to fill my days, if I can get as many new experiences in my back pocket as I can, then I’ll have
enough saved up for the moments over the next few years when my life is a little less exciting. A weight lifts off my shoulders
at the idea that this experience might have a purpose.
‘Feels like a good goal to me,’ Jude says.