Chapter 7 #2
Tilly hadn’t seen him yet. She was shaking water off her hands, the droplets catching the sun so it looked like she was throwing diamonds into the air and she was watching them, a smile of pure joy on her face. It was so childlike.
So innocent.
So utterly captivating that Angus found he couldn’t take a new breath. Or another step.
What would it be like to be able to catch moments like this? To dismiss any of the clutter of the past that was stacked in every corner of life, or any ramifications that the future could bring, and simply be in that moment. He couldn’t even remember when he’d last had a moment like this.
Except that wasn’t true, was it? He’d just had exactly that, as he watched Tilly and thought that she didn’t appear to have anything missing from her life. Angus suddenly felt like he had his nose pressed against a window, watching someone who had exactly what he wanted.
Except he didn’t know whether he was capable of letting go of the clutter or imagined consequences.
Could he find out, perhaps, by being close enough to Tilly? Was the ability to live in the moment and catch moments of joy contagious? The thought was enough to have made him start moving again.
Towards Tilly.
She looked up and smiled and the warmth of the sun on his shoulders seemed to increase by several degrees. She waved her hand at the boulder beside her.
‘This is big enough for two,’ she said.
Angus put his dirty shoes near the edge of the stream, beside Tilly’s, where they could soak but not get washed away. Then he took off his clean shoes and rolled his trouser legs enough to be able to step into the stream without getting them wet.
Tilly moved her satchel as he sat down and they both heard the clink of glass against rock.
‘Oh… I hope I didn’t break that bottle,’ she said. ‘It’s my favourite champagne.’ She pulled out the half bottle with the distinctive sunflower-yellow label. Then she looked up to catch his gaze and he could actually feel the mischief she was emanating.
‘Shall we?’
He couldn’t break the eye contact. He couldn’t find a word.
‘It’s still cold.’ Tilly had clearly already made the decision because she was peeling the foil from the neck of the bottle. ‘We may as well find something to enjoy about our first balloon flight, ouais?’
This felt very much like another moment to be in. An unwise indulgence, perhaps, but it was as good a place as any to start practising.
‘Maybe just a sip,’ he conceded. For some reason, Angus felt the need to clear his throat. ‘I’m driving, remember?’
* * *
This…
Tilly knew that Angus had no idea – and she wasn’t going to point it out because he’d walk off with a scowl on his face – but this was the absolute essence of romance.
To be alone, together, in a beautiful place with the gurgle of water sounding like the laughter of invisible fairies, the sparkle of sunshine all around them, on the water and in the shafts coming through the canopy of the trees nearby and…
bubbles dancing on your tongue as the deliciously crisp wine evaporated in your mouth.
She’d taken the first sip to catch the foam that was trying to escape and then handed it to Angus who had wiped the rim of the bottle with his thumb before taking a sip himself.
She’d seen the way his eyes widened when he gave it back and she lifted it to her own lips without pausing to wipe the neck.
It felt as close to kissing him as she was likely to get.
It also felt as close to the head rush she’d get from swallowing this entire bottle of champagne.
She took another sip and then offered it to Angus again, and this time he didn’t wipe it, either.
And that felt like the first moment of real connection between them.
They weren’t saying anything but it was far from silent with the sound of the tumbling water, the increasing noise of the cicadas and the song of blackbirds hidden in the leafy trees.
The champagne was going straight to Tilly’s head, probably because she hadn’t wanted any breakfast at the horribly early hour she’d risen.
She stopped offering the bottle to Angus when he shook his head but she couldn’t resist having another sip or two herself.
Because this was perfect.
Well, not perfect exactly. The disastrous ending to their balloon flight had made Angus angry – again – which was quite understandable but, as another cool mouthful of champagne slid down her throat, Tilly had no trouble soaking in a moment of what was remarkably close to perfection.
She tilted her head back, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the sunshine on her face, and she let her breath out in a contented hum.
‘I’m almost glad our balloon crashed,’ she said. ‘If we hadn’t landed in pig shit, we wouldn’t be here right now, would we?’
She opened her eyes to find Angus looking at her, one side of his mouth curled up in an adorably lop-sided smile that gave him a dimple in his cheek.
‘What’s French for pig?’ he asked.
‘Cochon.’
He nodded. ‘Cochon caca,’ he said.
Technically, it was caca de cochon if you wanted to say pig shit, but Tilly wasn’t about to correct him. She was laughing instead.