Chapter 19
T his was the most positive and downright happy Millie had felt for a long time. Her afternoon of shopping had been exciting enough without the unexpected turn of events that happened whilst in Lauren’s shop. During her visit to The Artful Den, Millie’s curiosity had been piqued by their conversation, and thoughts of the village hall and its unseemly demise had popped into her head. Lauren was adamant that crafty hobbies were on the up and there were plenty of people wanting to learn – or in other words, be taught – how to do them. From there she’d come up with the idea – art classes for the village hall! And on the journey home, those thoughts had spiralled. Why stop at art? There must be so many hobbies people are interested in pursuing and many talented people in the area who could offer their services to teach them. She hadn’t been inside and seen the space, but it looked a good size from the outside – what about hiring it out for birthday parties, home education groups? The possibilities could be endless. They could have the village hall packed out most nights of the week. Let the council say it’s no longer used then!
The cherry on top of the already very exciting cake was that when she had verbalised this to Lauren, she herself had agreed to come along and “open” the sessions, almost like a special guest. Her paintings were widely known throughout the county and were sold nationwide so she was the perfect person. After exchanging numbers, and with Millie promising to call her once she had a more solid plan in place, she’d left the shop feeling excited. And what had surprised her more was that the first person she wanted to tell was Alfie. She hadn’t mentioned it to Daisy and Amy as it felt like a secret and one she wanted to keep until she had told him first.
She wanted to tell him in person following their discussion previously so had managed to hold off messaging him, despite her excitement. She would tell him tonight at the pub; all the gang were heading there for the Saturday night quiz followed by live music. Now a little more in tune with the fashion culture down here (basically anything on a scale of jeans and nice jumper to dungarees and wellies was deemed acceptable), she had no problem putting an outfit together using some of the purchases from a few weeks back. Her light-wash “mom” style jeans were pulled in with a tan belt and complemented by a plain white vest and adorable cropped, mustard coloured shirt she had found tucked away in a charity shop in Truro. The shirt was adorned with white polka dots, and she wore it open to show off a long necklace she’d had in her jewellery box for ages, silver with a crescent moon on the end. She’d also taken the plunge that afternoon and allowed Amy to cut her hair – when she had first suggested it, Millie had told her in no uncertain terms to “get stuffed” but once Amy had shown her photos of other friends’ hair she had cut after a year stint as a hairdresser in the past, Millie had agreed. Besides, it hadn’t been cut properly in nearly a year.
Almost 5 inches had fallen to the ground, resembling a small dog, which made them both laugh. Amy had cut in some layers, and it now sat just below her shoulders. Millie styled it with loose waves, trying to give the impression she’d done nothing with it (when in fact it had taken rather a long time and a bit of swearing). She’d treated herself to a brand-new pair of brilliantly white Converse, and they completed the look. She felt comfortable and confident; it was amazing what a new haircut and a wardrobe refresh could do to lift your mood. Along with the incredible idea she’d had about saving the village hall, of course.
The stroll down to the pub was a chilly one but the half a bottle of wine she’d drunk whilst getting ready helped to take the edge off. Soon she could see the warm glow and hear the faint thrum of The Sandy Anchor. The landlord had clearly been busy that day too as the windows were newly decorated for Christmas and more lights than usual twinkled from inside.
It warmed Millie’s heart realising the difference in atmosphere from when she’d first visited; back then people had looked at her a little odd, because she was a stranger and one from London, at that. Now, the minute she walked in people greeted her by name, smiled at her or raised a glass. She knew people’s names and even paused to chat with Ray, the local locksmith whilst waiting for her drink to thank him again for the work he’d done to sort the door out to her garden. Was she becoming part of the community? She dared say it felt like it.
The Christmas decorations had continued inside also, with a large, real tree taking up the space where one of the corner tables had once stood. Above the bar hung several garlands and festive lights adorned many surfaces, giving off a very cosy vibe.
“Millie! Over here!” she heard a call and turning round spotted Ryan sat at a table alone. She smiled and made her way over.
“Hey,” she said, taking a seat and sliding her bag off her shoulder. “How’s it going?”
“It’s good!” he replied. “Just waiting for those other wasters. They should be here soon.” She smiled in response, unsure what to say. Ryan seemed like a lovely man; quiet and unassuming, yet she had spoken to him less than any of the others in their friendship group. She often felt paranoid around him and Evan; did they genuinely like her or were they just forced to spend time around her because Amy and Daisy had chosen to? A pause followed, which Millie filled by taking a long sip of wine – she’d need a refill within minutes at this rate.
“Your outfit looks amazing,” Ryan spoke suddenly, and Millie blushed.
“Oh thanks. Just something I threw together really,” she replied and then felt embarrassed at such a cliché response.
“Me too,” he countered, fancily indicating his own standard black jeans and jumper. She giggled, the wine going right to her head. Was he flirting with her? It had been so long since someone had seriously flirted with her – sure, she and Alfie seemed to have something happening between them but no real, blatant flirting. The flippant comment from Ryan seemed very ‘playground’ but there was a small buzz running through her to feel like someone maybe wanted to flirt with her, despite her having zero reciprocal feelings.
Ryan excused himself to go to the toilet just as the others arrived. Evan went straight to the bar whilst Amy and Daisy headed over to Millie. After initial greetings and settling into seats, Millie found her loosened tongue opening up to them.
“I know this sounds stupid and ridiculously self-indulgent, but I think Ryan was just flirting with me?” she whispered. Amy and Daisy traded a glance and then they both began to smirk. Amy leaned in slowly, causing Millie to do the same.
“I hate to break it to you Mils, because I know he’s bloody gorgeous, but he wouldn’t be interested in you if you were the last woman on earth.” Millie’s eyes widened – was she really that unattractive? But keeping her eyes locked with Amy’s and then glancing at Daisy, the penny dropped, and she realised what she was referring to.
“You’re extremely gay, aren’t you Ry?” Amy yelled as he came back towards the table. “Millie here thought you might have had a crush on her.” Instantly, Millie dipped her face into her hands in sheer embarrassment as he sat next to her laughing.
“He’s more likely to have a crush on me,” Evan responded, just appearing at that moment with a tray full of drinks and placing them down.
“What do you mean, “likely to”? I’ve got you earmarked for an illicit affair,” Ryan answered cheekily, and everyone burst out laughing. Relieved, Millie joined in. Her serious misunderstanding seemed to have gone relatively unnoticed, despite Amy’s big mouth. She must keep her own mouth shut in future, almost full bottle of wine or no almost full bottle of wine.
“Here’s someone who clearly does have a crush on you,” Daisy said and all eyes turned to the doorway of the pub, where Alfie had just entered. Millie’s stomach flipped. What was that expression she’d heard before? How, when someone walks into a room, and it feels like the sun has just come out. That’s what she felt like right now, completely against her will. Even better, he was walking towards their table and there was no Dana in tow – she wasn’t certain what had happened there, but Millie was just relieved not to have to face her right now. She’d pissed her off once already from her drunken behaviour and again with the whole drama from the weekend before and, whilst she wanted to apologise to her, she didn’t want to confront that right now, here in the pub.
She’d texted him earlier that day letting him know she had some super exciting news to tell him but hadn’t given away any more clues, intending to tell him tonight. She’d get the initial conversation out the way and then pull him somewhere on his own to chat about her ideas. The excitement was palpable within her – whilst it wasn’t her village, she felt so passionate about helping those whose it was, especially with a hobby they both shared an intense love for. He sat across from her and they locked eyes a little longer than usual, his small smile making her melt inside. He broke contact and pulled his phone out of his pocket, beginning to type.
“Now we’re all here, I have some news to tell you,” Daisy announced. Millie’s phone buzzed and she briefly glanced down. “ Your hair looks really great.” She peeped back up at him and he was looking at Daisy, but gave her a sneaky side-eye and a small smile. She went to smile back but then tried to focus instead on Daisy and what she was saying.
“You’ve probably not noticed because you’re all hideously self-involved, but if you’d look at this table, what do you notice about the drinks?” Everyone searched the glasses on the table.
“I need a top up?” Amy said, indicating her near empty pint glass.
“Evan didn’t get shots again because he’s a tight ass?” Ryan added causing Evan to drain his glass and shake the remaining droplets over his head.
“I’ve almost consumed a bottle and starting to regret it already?” Millie added, realising she’d slurred at least two of those words and needed to slow down. Daisy rolled her eyes impatiently.
“No! I’m drinking lemonade,” Daisy declared, holding up the half-pint glass and displaying it around like a prize on a gameshow from the nineties. Everyone stayed quiet until Amy’s eyes widened.
“NO!” she declared in disbelief. Daisy and Evan looked at each other and nodded furiously, enormous smiles breaking out on their faces.
“YES! These two incredibly irresponsible adults are having a baby!” she yelled, making a ta-da! motion in the air. Immediately, the group broke out into rapturous applause, congratulations and excited embraces.
Millie, however, sat there feeling completely and utterly numb. All the excitement, happiness, joy and confidence drained within an instant, like a snake had aggressively latched onto her leg and was furiously sucking it all out. She felt her breathing quicken and all sounds around her muted. Through bleary eyes, she could make out everyone embracing and was very aware she was still sat on her stool, but nothing could make her move. Feeling bile rise in her throat, all of a sudden her body reacted and she was up on her feet and out the door of the pub. Cold air punched her in the face and it was only then she was aware of the tears coursing down her face and the fact she was bent over next to the sea wall, trying not to empty the contents of her stomach all over the pavement.
“Millie?” She recognised his voice instantly but couldn’t bring herself to look at him. This could be the unravelling of all the careful steps she had taken to ensure that no-one down here knew about her past. She’d already revealed about her mum to Alfie – that had been a slip-up - but especially not this part of it. She knew from previous experiences back in London how people treated you when they found out you couldn’t have children: all different ways. She’d had the people who sent her inspirational quotes about “life going on” and how strong a person she was, the other people who had spoken to her then cast her pitying glances like she was some injured puppy. Then others with children who had notably stopped inviting her to any event or gathering, presumably because they thought it might make her feel uncomfortable. In reality, she wasn’t sure exactly how she wanted to be treated. But she knew she didn’t want to be the elephant in the room during any situation – this is why retreating to Cornwall where nobody knew her had seemed the best choice. A chance for a fresh start. Except now, due to her own unhinged reactions and responses, her demons were coming back to bite her.
“I’m fine, go back inside,” she called shakily, trying to steady her breathing. She straightened up slowly once she realised that, thankfully, the copious amount of wine in her stomach was staying put (for now).
“You don’t seem fine?” he challenged, his voice closer now and she could feel his presence just behind her. Dabbing her mouth delicately to remove any rogue saliva that may have accumulated, she slowly turned and came face to his concerned face. Even with a furrowed brow and eyes dancing with apprehension, he was an incredibly handsome man. She managed a weak smile.
“Just too much vin rouge , that’s all,” she replied quietly. He still looked uneasy, so she peered past him into the pub. “You head on back,” she said, desperately fighting to remove the tremor from her voice. “I think I’m going to head home before I make more of a fool of myself.”
“Then I’m coming with you,” he replied firmly and upon noticing her change of expression quickly added, “but only to your door. Just to make sure you make it OK?” She realised by the resolve in his words that he wouldn’t budge so to avoid creating even more of a scene, she agreed, on the condition that he went back and apologised to the group. She couldn’t bring herself to think how rude they must think she is. Her new friend Daisy, who was an incredibly lovely person and had opened her arms to her, had announced one of the most exciting things you could hope to announce, and, in response, she had dashed out without a word? Not to mention Evan sat next to Daisy, who had also welcomed her warmly to the group, despite the fact she was a complete stranger. No, it didn’t look good at all. How on earth would she explain? Even if her fake story of feeling sick from the alcohol were true, it wouldn’t have been an excuse to not return, even for a brief moment. What a mess.
But this was Millie’s reality and had been for a long time. She so dreadfully wanted to feel happy for people who had, or were able to have, children. Even just feeling neutral would do. She didn’t want to be jealous, for fear of ending up a bitter and twisted spinster, with only seventeen cats and a half dead houseplant for company (the future she had envisioned for herself many an early morning hour.) These thoughts spiralled in her head as they began the slow walk up the lane, back to her cottage. They walked side by side in silence, the sounds of the pub gradually replaced with the crunch of their shoes on the ground beneath them. Being out in the countryside, the streetlights were scarce and so above them lay an incredibly dark sky which tonight was cloudless, exposing hundreds upon thousands of glittering stars littered throughout. Just looking up and slowly counting them caused Millie’s breathing to calm and her heart rate to return to a normal pattern.
Alfie glanced across at her and noticed her looking at the sky, mouth subtly moving as though counting. He gave a small smile and realised how endearing he found her in that moment. From the minute he’d walked into the pub that evening, he realised his eyes had been searching for her; only her. Isn’t that meant to mean something? When you start entering a room and you look for “your person?” When he had clocked her, he noticed instantly she’d changed her hair and thought it looked incredible. Although he’d liked it before, it seemed chopping away a few inches of hair had uncovered her complete beauty. She’d never looked as confident and comfortable as she had in that moment, wine glass in hand and laughing with the rest of the group. Up until now, of course, where she looked vulnerable instead.
She noticed him looking at her and so to avoid her feeling embarrassed, he said:
“Did you know, there are more stars in the sky than grains of sand on every beach in the world?” He then scolded himself inwardly, realising how lame a statement it was, but thankfully she replied “I didn’t. That’s a very interesting fact.” They walked a minute more when she added: “So how do they actually know that, though?” He paused for thought.
“I don’t know. Maybe someone just has way too much time on their hands?” They both gave a small chuckle. The tension had broken slightly, which had been his intention. He couldn’t help noticing she looked very cold despite her coat and thick tartan scarf wound around her neck. It took him all his resistance not to slip an arm around her shoulder and pull her close.
Within another minute, they reached her cottage door, and she pulled a key out of her coat pocket. They looked at each other and a moment passed.
“So…thanks for walking me back,” Millie spoke softly, her eyes glistening in the dull glow of the streetlamp.
“No problem at all,” Alfie began and then, taking in the anxious look which remained on her face couldn’t help adding, “…and you’re sure you’re OK?”
“I’m fine, honestly. Just too much to drink, that’s all,” she responded weakly. He hesitated.
“Are you sure? Nothing at all I can help with…?” he started to offer, but she cut him off.
“Seriously, Alfie. I’m fine. I just need to rest.” The clipped tone of her voice was all the warning he needed that it was his cue to leave. After reassuring her he’d pass an apology onto the group – especially Daisy and Evan, he watched her go inside without so much as a hug goodnight. Waiting to hear the key turn in the lock and a light switch on inside, he walked back down the lane. So he’d only known her for a very short amount of time. He was certain there was something she wasn’t telling him, yet knew it wasn’t his business to go digging. Maybe not yet anyway.