Chapter 5 #3
The inn still looks busy, and the flicker of a television screen warms the inside of my dad’s old cottage.
Houses are dotted all around the hillside that surrounds Starshine, more than you’d think, tucked away in the sloping greenery that tumbles down to the bay.
I stand for a moment and look up at it all.
Every light that shines in every window represents a life, a world, a human existence made up of hopes and dreams and pain and need. So much of everything, all around me.
I stop, close my eyes, do some deep breathing.
Concentrate on the background sound of the waves.
Calm myself down. I am close to full-on sensory overload, and nothing good ever comes of that – it’s the time I’m most likely to run.
This, of course, was the little secret that my mum and I shared – it’s not that we didn’t care enough to stay in one spot, it’s that we cared too much. We felt things too deeply.
I lean down and stroke Bear. He is real and soft and present, and he immediately makes me feel more grounded.
Everyone should have a fat Labrador to help them stay grounded, they really are the perfect companion for the stressed, the strange and the slightly unsettled.
He makes a contented snuffling noise as he roots around in my palm, probably checking for food.
‘What do you reckon, boy? Little walk along to the woods? Lots of stuff for you to pee on?’
He doesn’t disagree and follows me willingly around the edge of the green and back to the gate.
I open it up for him to pass through, and wonder how Guy is getting on.
I clearly left him at the beginning of an awkward conversation, disappearing off to start my own.
Mine has gone… well, I think. Better than I expected.
Probably better than I deserved. I hope his was just as productive, but I understand that I might never find out.
I might never see him again. I have got used to the transient nature of relationships, the way we can briefly touch each other’s lives and then be gone.
It’s part of the world I chose. Still, I hope it’s not true in this case – I felt a bit like I had an ally when he was around.
I switch the little torch on as we walk towards the woods, but I don’t really need it.
It’s a clear night with an almost full moon, and these woods are still incredibly familiar to me.
I feel safe here, bizarrely, even though it kind of looks like a scene from a scary movie – woman walking alone at night through the mysterious forest…
I probably need to start running, and then trip over a tree root, and get attacked by a knife-wielding lunatic in a leprechaun mask…
Leprechaun mask? Really? I laugh as I walk, still constantly amazed by the nonsense my mind serves up to me.
Bear ambles ahead a little, and I realise after a few moments that he’s heading right to my tree.
My special magic tree that I used to climb with ease, and which now likes to take me prisoner.
He gallops up the little hill and comes to a quivering stop at the base of the trunk.
One of his sturdy legs raises, his tail goes up, and he lets out a single booming woof.
I hope he hasn’t retrieved me a killer leprechaun.
‘What is it, boy?’ I ask, shining the little torch up into the branches. ‘Late night squirrel?’
I almost jump out of my skin when someone actually replies. ‘No. It’s me. Guy.’
My heart rate spikes, and Bear barks once more. I spot a face in the branches and laugh at the slightly guilty expression.
‘What are you doing up there? That’s my tree!’
‘I know. Squatters’ rights? Do you want to come up, or shall I come down?’
‘I think, based on earlier evidence, that you should come down. Or not. I don’t want to crowd you. If you need a bit of head space, I can testify that that tree is a really great place for it. I’m happy to walk on by.’
I secretly hope he comes down, because I really would like to know what happened after I left him in the pub. And because he is easy to be around in a way that nobody else here is – I barely know the man, and he definitely doesn’t come with any emotional baggage, and he has a very nice arse.
The last on the list has no right to be there, but it pops spontaneously into my mind as I watch him shimmy with ease out of his perch.
He’s taller and stronger than me, and I let out a silent whistle as I admire him clambering to the ground.
I meant it earlier when I said I was all talk – he is one hundred per cent safe, because romance is the very last thing on my current to-do list – but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy a bit of window shopping.
He stands in front of me, almost smiling as Bear nuzzles up to him for some affection. He crouches down so they’re on eye level, getting a sloppy lick on the face as he strokes the dog’s ears.
‘How did it go?’ I ask. ‘Your… uh, reunion?’
He thinks about it before he speaks, then replies: ‘As well as it could have, I suppose. I’m still here, anyway. You?’
‘Actually, pretty good. I am also still here. I get the feeling that wasn’t guaranteed for either of us, was it? We are what they call in the movies “a flight risk”!’
He nods, standing up, and this time he does actually smile – the tiniest flicker of lips moving upward, but definitely there.
‘We are. But I’m trying not to be. I’ve been running for a long time, and I’d like to stop for a while. I’m… tired, you know? I’m tired, and I’ve made mistakes, and I don’t want to keep making the same ones over and over again.’
I have no clue what his particular mistakes have been, but I very much understand the sentiment.
‘I get it, believe me. Where are you staying tonight?’ I ask. ‘At the inn? Or with your, uh, daughter?’
‘No to both. The inn is fully booked, and Miranda isn’t ready for that. I don’t even know where she lives, other than “in the village”. I have my tent, and it’s a warm night. Until you walked by I was starting to think I might actually sleep in that tree.’
‘I tried that when I was fifteen,’ I tell him.
‘It didn’t end well, and my right elbow has never been the same after that fall.
Look, I think I’m going to walk through the woods back to my car.
I was planning on leaving it, but there’s no way I’ll be able to sleep this early.
Want to come with me, and see if it’s any use?
I mean, there are plenty of fields around here, and someone in my family is bound to have some land where you can pitch if you like, but Bettina is cosy enough for one.
Quite the little love shack in fact. Although you are a lot longer than me… ’
My eyes drift down his jean-clad legs, and back up to his eyes. He’s looking at me curiously, one eyebrow raised. ‘Are you flirting with me again?’
‘I was just stating fact, but then I got distracted. Don’t worry.’
‘I’m not worried. Just checking.’
‘Okay then. Shall we walk? I can talk nonsense, and you can confound me with your monosyllabic responses?’
‘Sounds like a plan.’
Bear plods along slowly at our feet as we make our way along the path, occasionally giving me a look that says ‘Oi, stupid human, we’re going the wrong way – I’m supposed to be asleep by now!’
I like being out at night, I enjoy the solitude, and I can tell Guy does too. We are both much more relaxed than we were earlier, in fact – possibly due to the fact that we are walking away from Starshine Cove, not towards it.
I find Bettina where I left her, and he actually properly smiles at the sight. ‘A classic,’ he announces, running his hands over her curves in a way that makes me wish I was a VW. ‘Where did you find her?’
‘Marrakesh. She’s done me proud. Fancy a little drive?’
He nods, and within minutes we’re away. I take us to a lookout point called Canonbury Hill, which is legendary for its ancient long barrow, views of the sea, and as a place for bored teenagers to get drunk on scrumpy and smoke illicit cigarettes.
The nearest lay-by is about halfway up, and we climb the rest together, Bear overcoming his laziness now he is in a world of new smells.
When we finally make it to the peak, it’s just as spectacular as I remember – the glistening ocean stretching out into infinity, the moon and stars reflected in its wavering mirror.
Owls call, and the waves hiss and suck as they roll into the cliffs and caves below.
I haven’t been here for so long, and yet nothing at all has changed – apart from me, that is.
I sit down on the grass, wrap my arms around my knees, and close my eyes.
This is one of those moments – ones you look back on in years to come.
All of the stresses and anxieties of the day seem to fall away from me, my breath comes easily and smoothly, and my heart is a dull and steady thud in my chest. I am calm, and I am grateful for that.
Guy is initially silent beside me, which comes as no surprise. When I open my eyes again, he is watching me, not the landscape. Weird, but okay.
‘Did you grow up here, then?’ he asks, gesturing out at the coastline.
‘I did. Left when I was eighteen, and never really came home again, apart from… Well, apart from the time I did.’
‘It’s a beautiful place,’ he comments. ‘Miranda’s been here for a few years. Everyone seems very, uh, protective? Is that the right word?’
‘It can be, yes. Depending on your outlook, you could view it as protective and supportive. Or you could view it as stifling and suffocating. I suspect you can guess which type I was.’
‘I can. So, didn’t you get on with your family? Did you have a hard childhood? Is that why you left?’
I ponder that question, wondering why it’s so difficult to answer. I don’t look back on my younger years as a simple time in my life, but would it be fair to say they were hard?
‘Not really. I was very close to my mother. I had an older brother and a younger sister. My dad was – is – great. We lived in a nice house, always had plenty of love, never wanted for anything at all. But something about this place, about Starshine, just… It wasn’t for me.
I felt trapped and couldn’t wait to leave.
Not my fault. Not Starshine’s fault. Not my parents’ fault.
I just needed my freedom, because here, I was always surrounded – friends, family, people everywhere, all of them wanting to talk to me and be with me and spend time with me.
It’s hard to explain, but I felt like if I stayed here, I’d get consumed by it.
Hardly a sob story, I know, but you did ask.
What about you? What were your parents like? ’
He shrugs, and his expression is impossible to read. ‘I don’t know. I grew up in care. My dad wasn’t on the scene, and my mum died when I was three. I know very little about her, don’t really remember her at all. After she died I was put in a children’s home, then a series of fosters.’
‘Oh. I see. Well, now I obviously feel like an enormous dickhead for going on about having too many people who loved me…’
He nods. ‘I thought you might. But there’s no need to. We all have our sad tales, don’t we? I think I’ll take you up on your offer, if that’s okay?’
‘Which offer?’ I answer, waggling my eyebrows at him.
‘The one to sleep in your car.’
‘Alone?’
‘I don’t think we’d both fit. Plus, I know you don’t even mean that. You’d be absolutely terrified if I kissed you right now.’
I’m slightly taken aback by this comment but also cannot argue with it.
The man has seen through my bluff, double bluff and bravado very efficiently.
Still, there is also a tiny part of me that wonders if he’s right.
The last time I kissed a man it turned out to be fairly life-changing.
Maybe this would be too? It would certainly be enjoyable, I reckon, my eyes lingering on those wide lips…
‘You’re probably right, Guy. Guy Keegan. Shall we swap numbers? I’m going to put yours into my phone under the contact Smoking Hot Soldier Dude.’
‘I’m not a soldier,’ he points out. ‘Best just go with Smoking Hot Dude.’
‘Okay – what about me? What am I going in as?’
‘Suzie,’ he replies simply, half a smile telling me he’s winding me up on purpose.
‘God, you really are bad at this. All right, come on. I’ll drive Bettina somewhere nice and private, and you can spend the night in the arms of another woman. My poor, broken heart…’