Chapter 6
SIX
I wake up the next morning in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar house, with an all-too-familiar need to pee.
My phone tells me it’s barely half five, but my bladder tells me it’s very much Toilet o’Clock.
I tiptoe around as quietly as I can, doing my business and then getting dressed.
My dad was, from memory, also an early riser – and even though yesterday went well, I still have the urge to clear my head before I’m plunged into the social whirl that is Starshine Cove.
Bear is curled up in his basket downstairs, and he gives me one cursory glance and goes straight back to sleep. I think he’s pretending – he’s wide awake but sulking, not quite having forgiven me for last night’s unexpected adventure.
I grab one of my dad’s fleece jackets and head outside. We’d ended up parking Bettina in the cul-de-sac, which is nice and quiet, and meant that I was able to easily grab my belongings and move them inside.
It’s already light and, as I approach the car, the door opens. I jump a little, and Guy swings his legs out. His face is weary, and he immediately starts to go through a stretching routine to deal with his cramped-up body.
‘Oh dear,’ I whisper. ‘Not the ideal cocoon for a man of your stature, is she? Maybe the tent might be better moving forward. If you stay that is. I’m going for a quick walk on the beach, then as soon as it’s a decent hour, I could get some coffee and bacon butties on the go. Are you in?’
‘I never turn down coffee and bacon butties. It’s one of my rules of engagement.’
‘I see. And what are your other rules of engagement?’ I ask, as we set off down towards the bay.
‘Right now, the main one is “Don’t sleep in a car designed for Oompa-Loompas.”’
For some reason the reference makes me laugh. It seems so incongruous coming from his mouth.
‘I wouldn’t have had you pegged as a Charlie and the Chocolate Factory kind of guy.’
He shrugs as we descend the steps. ‘Miranda used to love it when she was little. Her mother and I… Well, we didn’t work.
We split up when she was six, and it wasn’t an amicable split.
We were both as messed up as each other, and we were only kids ourselves – no way it wasn’t going to end in disaster. ’
‘You lost touch?’
He glances at me, as though searching for hidden meaning in that simple question. ‘No judgement here,’ I assure him. ‘I’m a black belt at losing touch. Life is complicated.’
He nods, and the look in his eyes tells me he has plenty of judgement to go round – at least for himself and his own mistakes.
‘She left me, while I was on deployment. I came home and they were both gone. No warning, no clue where they were. I should have tried harder, though. I know I should, to track them down. I shouldn’t have let her go so easily.
Miranda, I mean. I just thought… Well, I think part of me thought they might be better off without me anyway.
I was never good at the relationship stuff.
I wanted to be a good dad, a good husband, but I had no clue how to be either.
Now she’s here, barely in her twenties, with her own baby – and she already seems to be doing a better job of it than I did. ’
This is quite the speech for Guy, and he suddenly looks borderline embarrassed, meeting my eyes briefly before staring solidly out to sea instead.
‘I’m sorry. You didn’t need to know any of that.’
‘I didn’t need to, no, but I’m glad I do.
For some reason, we’ve ended up here at the same time, Guy.
Plus you rescued me out of a tree, and you’ve tolerated me objectifying you ever since we met – nice T-shirt, by the way.
Makes your eyes pop. We’re… well, I suspect we’re both a bit crap, but we’re both obviously trying not to be, which has got to count for something, hasn’t it?
That we’re trying? And maybe if we can blow off steam with each other, we might do better? ’
‘Maybe. I don’t suppose it can hurt. Your turn though. I’ve already shared more than I usually do in a year.’
I sit down on the sand, cross my legs so I’m comfy, and wait for him to join me.
It really is shaping up to be a stunner of a day, the bright sunlight already shimmering on the waves, the cliffs that curve around the coast shining in shades of red and gold.
I’ll take Guy to see the caves before we leave, I promise myself – everyone should see the caves while they’re here.
‘Do you ever do yoga?’ I ask, as he folds himself down effortlessly beside me.
‘Not regularly, but I have done. One of the NGOs I worked for was keen on wellness.’
He says the word ‘wellness’ with zero enthusiasm, and it makes me laugh.
‘You sound thrilled. But I know where you’re coming from – you spend the day dealing with poverty and loss and the injustice of the world, and a few minutes in downward dog isn’t going to wipe all that away, is it?’
‘No. But at the very least it was good at stretching out the kinks. A lot of my work was manual, and I was often in knots by the end of it.’
‘Shame I wasn’t there,’ I reply, nudging him with my shoulder and winking. ‘Could have given you a massage…’
He shakes his head. ‘You’re deflecting.’
‘I know, and I’m really good at it! Okay, okay, so…
As you know I haven’t been back here for ages.
The last time I was home for any significant length of time was when my mum had cancer, and I came back to help care for her.
After that, I was almost always gone – I never even came home a few years ago, when my sister and my brother were both killed in a car accident. ’
I tense as the words slip out, my fingers digging into the flesh of my thighs and my teeth biting my lips so hard I taste blood. There. It’s out. Go me.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says quietly. ‘That’s terrible.’
‘It was. They were together in the car, and Simon was driving Sandy to the hospital because she was in labour with her second baby, Meg. Meg made it, thank God, but neither Sandy nor Simon did. It… Well, obviously, it changed everything. Five children were left without one of their parents. Connie and Archie were left without their partners. And my dad, my poor dad… He was pretty much left alone, wasn’t he?
I mean, technically he had another child, yours truly, but she wasn’t much use to him.
The other two loved it here, loved exactly the same life as him.
But me? I was off in the wild blue yonder, and I didn’t even come back for the funeral. ’
I am crying as I speak, reliving all of that pain and guilt, and it feels strangely good to let it all out. But then I start to feel guilty about the fact that it feels good, and… God, it’s exhausting being me.
‘I’m going to hug you now,’ Guy says, sliding his arm around me. ‘Don’t use it as an excuse to molest me, okay?’
I splutter out a laugh and let myself settle against him. It feels nice, resting my head against his solid shoulder, his touch calming and gentle. He smells strangely good for a man who has slept in a car, and for just a few moments, I allow myself to let go. To forget.
‘Sorry,’ I say when I pull away. ‘I’ve made you all soggy.’
‘It’s okay. Any time.’
He hasn’t asked why I didn’t come home for the funeral, and I am glad. I’m not quite ready to talk about that, no matter how close I feel to this man in the current moment. I clamber to my feet and hold out my hands to help him up – not that he needs it, being in disgustingly good shape.
‘Not going to ask?’ I say, as we start to stroll back along the beach.
‘No. I’m going to assume you had your reasons, and that they made sense to you at the time.’
‘That’s incredibly zen of you.’
‘Well, I don’t want to get on your wrong side. You promised me coffee and bacon butties.’
‘I did,’ I answer, ‘and I’m very much a woman of my word. I’m sure Dad has everything in the house, but we can call at the shop too.’ I need to do something normal. I need to balance things out a little.
Trevor the Druid, I recall, was always up before dawn so he could watch the sunrise. I vaguely remember a story about him building a replica stone circle in his garden, and wonder if that’s true or if I made it up.
The store is indeed open, and Trevor is standing outside, watching as we walk towards him. He’s staring at me intently, and I hope he’s not about to start talking about my black aura or predicting a plague of crows now the prodigal daughter has returned.
‘Good morning,’ he says simply, nodding at us both. ‘Pastries are fresh in from the bakery, and I have a selection of home-made organic herbal teas. Ginger and lemon?’
Guy looks slightly taken aback at the personal service, but I welcome the suggestion.
I’m quite the tea addict these days. The Emporium, just as I remember it, sells pretty much everything from multipacks of Monster Munch through to fishing rods, stopping off along the way to encompass fresh deli goods, Trevor’s self-penned guide to local history, and a whole shelf full of healing crystals.
I’m tempted to swoop them all into a bag wholesale, because a girl can’t have too many healing crystals, but concentrate instead on the pastries.
I choose two boxes full of croissants, pain au chocolat and raspberry crowns before realising that I don’t even have my purse with me.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Trevor says, proving he’s the worst shopkeeper in the world. ‘It’s nice to have you home, Suzie. Like a missing piece in the jigsaw.’
He smiles, and it makes me feel warm inside. Better even than a healing crystal. He passes me a Cadbury’s Dairy Milk, which he’s miraculously and correctly remembered as my childhood favourite.
‘I don’t know about that, Trevor, but thank you – I’ll drop the cash in later, I promise.’