Chapter 11 #3
‘Of course he was, but how do you tell? They were beautiful and vivacious and fun to be around. And as they say, love is blind. So blind that he gave a woman so much money we ended up losing our house. Because he loved her and because she was in trouble.’
Tilly was biting her lip. ‘He was a generous, loving man,’ she said. ‘It’s horrible that he didn’t find the woman who would have truly loved him back.’
She was the one staring out at the lake now.
‘I like that he spent years looking after you before he even thought of looking for love again.’
‘It was a great childhood,’ Angus agreed. ‘He’d take me and Robbie out hiking and fishing. He’d tell me stories and give me advice about life. By the time he was busy with the great hunt for a happy ever after, I was old enough to be able to go out alone. Just me and Robbie.’
‘You weren’t lonely?’
‘Not that I was aware of. Not then, anyway.’ Angus cleared his throat. There were limits to how honest he was ready to be. And why would Tilly be interested in a yearning for something more than he had, not to mention a new determination to be less boring.
‘What about you?’ he asked. ‘Did you have a childhood full of princess dresses and stories about Prince Charming, to grow up so devoted to everything romantic?’
‘More like the opposite,’ Tilly said quietly.
‘The only romance in our house was what I could see in the movies I got to watch. And yes, I fell in love with Prince Charming and Prince Eric and even the Beast and Shrek. And I knew that there was nothing romantic about the marriage of my parents. There was no sparkle. No magic. No glue.’
‘Glue?’
‘The magic that makes love become a happy ever after. They got unstuck and just drifted away from each other until there was nothing. My father went away and my mother just got on with her life as if it was just c’est la vie.
I’m not sure she was ever truly happy.’ Tilly sighed.
‘I promised myself that I would never choose an unromantic man.’
‘Why didn’t it work for my father?’
Tilly shrugged. ‘The love has to be there on both sides. Romance doesn’t guarantee love and, in the end, you have to take a risk. It’s, oh… un acte de foi. I’ve forgotten what that’s called in English. A jump of faith?’
Angus smiled. ‘Close. A leap of faith.’
Tilly nodded. ‘That’s better than an act. Because it is more like jumping when you can’t be absolutely sure of what you’re going to land on. Perhaps it is, as you say, an additional thing, like the icing or decoration on a cake but, more importantly, it is also the glue.’
‘If you say so.’ Angus smiled to take any sting out of his response. ‘I wish my father had found what he was looking for. He’d certainly suffered enough to deserve it.’
‘It’s very sad he died so young.’
‘I got to see him before he died,’ Angus told her. ‘And he said something to me that I’ve never forgotten.’ He hesitated. He’d never told anybody this but, for whatever reason, he wanted to tell Tilly.
‘What did he say?’ she asked.
‘That it doesn’t matter how long you live, what really matters is whether you’ve lived.’ Angus had to clear the lump from his throat. ‘And then he said, “I’ve lived. I’ve really lived.”.’
‘Oh…’ Tilly’s sigh was heartfelt. ‘He was a passionate man. And sometimes the moments are important on their own, even if the love doesn’t last.’
He sensed that Tilly was about to say something else – possibly to counter his opinion of the waste of money that romance represented but, when she did speak, she surprised him.
‘Take your shoes off,’ she instructed. ‘And roll your jeans up. We can’t leave the lake without putting our feet in the water. It’s a rule.’
The stones were hot and a little uncomfortable to walk on.
The water was as icy-cold as that stream had been and Tilly let out an involuntary squeak as she stepped into it, which made Angus laugh.
Taking his own step, he could feel the small stones underwater slipping away from the pressure of his foot, and maybe the movement was close enough to take Tilly off balance.
She tipped sideways a little, instinctively putting out her hand to catch something to hold on to.
Which happened to be Angus, holding out his hand to help her, but he didn’t let go when she adjusted to the roll of stones under her feet. He kept holding her hand as they walked along the edge of the lake. He didn’t do hand-holding with women any more than he ate desserts.
But things were different here.
He was different.
And he wanted to do the things he’d never done before. Like tasting a flan patissier, having sex with someone he wasn’t in a committed relationship with and, maybe, really living. If his father was watching right now, Angus had a feeling he would be nodding his approval.
He might be smiling at the same time and possibly muttering something under his breath.
About bloody time, son.
Because there’d been something else in that last conversation he’d ever had with his father. Something he wouldn’t dare tell Tilly.
‘Love, that’s the key, son. If you’re too afraid to love, you’re never going to really live. One day, I hope you’ll find that out.’
He must have seen the disbelief Angus couldn’t hide. He must have guessed the reason too.
‘Tennyson wasn’t wrong,’ he’d said, almost inaudibly. ‘When he said it was better to have loved and lost…’ His words had trailed away but everybody knew the end of that quote, didn’t they?
‘…than never to have loved at all.’
Angus was still holding Tilly’s hand. Splashing through water that was less cold now but still making his feet tingle. He was full of the most delicious picnic food he’d ever eaten and in a part of the world he’d never been in before that was astonishing him at every turn.
He was with an extraordinarily beautiful woman who was also astonishing him at every turn.
Not that he was going to analyse it any further than that. Maybe really living meant being in the moment instead of making a list of pros and cons, risks and consequences. Listening to your heart and not your head.
So Angus gave up thinking for a heartbeat. He stopped walking, pulled Tilly into his arms and kissed her again.
Properly, this time.
Deeply.
The taste of Tilly was beyond anything even the most delicious food in the world could deliver.
The softness of her lips was as comforting as coming home.
Her responsiveness made him feel taller. Desirable. Genuinely wanted.
Enough.
Angus had the warmth of sunshine on his hair and the ripples of cool water on his feet but every other part of him, his body and brain and heart – maybe even his soul – were totally lost in this moment and it felt…
…as if he was getting his first glimpse of what really living, if not true happiness, actually was.