Chapter 47
The next morning, Tilly woke up with the whole Otto situation sitting square on her chest before she'd even opened her eyes. Telling herself not to think about it because she had way too much to do, she decided to get up, get dressed and go for a walk down by the water before she got on with her day. After washing her hands and face, pulling on her jeans and a jumper, she made a coffee, then slipped her feet into her wellies by the back door and set off along the road sipping her coffee and admiring the scenery. With the tide right back, leaving a wide, gleaming stretch of sand, she gulped in the gorgeousness of Darling. Tinged with the scents of the coast, salt and seaweed, it was that sort of bright, fresh, cool English morning she’d missed when in warmer climes.
Purposely avoiding anywhere even remotely close to Otto, she took a long loop by the estuary up to the ferry and back through a narrow lane, bringing her back down towards the Boat Shed.
It was just as she was nearly back home that she spied Otto coming the other way with Stanley.
Feeling the Catherine wheel give itself a whizz, she reminded herself sternly to be cool, casual, friendly and breezy.
She was very much an independent woman in control of her own life and emotions, thank you very much.
Deciding to just say hello and get the initial awkwardness over and done with, she went in for the kill. 'Morning!'
Otto's head came up, a funny look crossed his face, and then he straightened and smiled. 'Morning. You're up early.'
Tilly barrelled straight on with the carefree attitude regardless of the fact that her mind was back on the sofa doing gorgeous things. 'Lovely morning, isn't it? The tide's right out.'
'It is.' Otto glanced back over his shoulder. 'It’s the best time for the beds, first thing on a low one. The pickers can get it all done before the day starts.'
'Right. Yes, it makes sense. How are the cages?' Tilly nodded and beamed as if she were interested in the oysters, the tide and the beds. She didn’t give a damn about them. She was only interested in him and very much wanted to be back on the sofa with him.
'The cages?'
Standing there in her wellies, Tilly willed herself not to feel awkward.
Here they were, discussing the tide and the cages and the loveliness of the morning, when previously he had been on her sofa, and she’d had her hands up the front of his shirt, kissing him as though her life had depended on it.
Gulping, she felt her face go red as she recalled what had happened.
She’d run her fingers through his hair and done all sorts, and clearly he was full of regret.
Here they were talking about oysters as if they were a pair of strangers at a bus stop.
Feeling as if she wanted to scream, all of a sudden Tilly felt her hand go up in front of her, her eyebrows shoot skywards, and her head shake.
'Actually, sorry, I'm not going to do this. Nope.'
Otto frowned. 'Do what?'
'This. Talking about the weather and the tide.
' Tilly waved her hand vaguely at the estuary.
'I’m not going to stand here and make small talk with you as if the other night didn't happen.
I've had years of pretending things were fine when they're not, and I haven't got the energy for it any more, to be honest. No, I just haven’t.
So, I'm just going to say that I had a lovely time and then you left and followed up by sending me a text about a tide, which, I'll be honest, did rather have me wondering whether I'd dreamt the whole thing or made an absolute fool of myself, or both. Clearly, it was the latter. So, before either of us says one more word about anything, I'd quite like to get it out in the open. Actually, no, not out in the open, well, yes, sorry, what I mean is, let’s just forget about it. I’m fine to move on. You don’t need to avoid me. These things happen. It’s fine. '
Otto made a face. ‘Right.’
Tilly felt her heart going like the clappers. Internally, she cringed and wanted to cut and run, but she was pretending to be all grown-up and pragmatic. It was clear by the look on Otto’s face that she was about to be very gently and kindly agreed with. Oh, the humiliation.
Otto sucked air in through his teeth. 'The truth is, I left because I didn’t want to ruin anything.'
'Oh.' Tilly side-eyed.
Otto made a wincing face. 'The text about the tide was because I picked my phone up about forty times to write something but didn’t know what to say. So in the end, oh, I don’t know...'
'Okay, right, oh, you did, umm. Meaning?'
'Meaning, let’s go out properly. Somewhere that isn't an oyster night where the whole of Darling is watching my every move. If you fancy it, that is?'
The Catherine wheel spun clean off its nail, and rockets shot up all over the show. On the outside, Tilly tried and succeeded in sounding unbothered. As if handsome farmers asked her out every day of the week. 'Sounds good.'
'Right. Well, I’ll message you. Have you got much on at the weekend? How about Saturday night?'
Tilly pretended to look at her calendar on her phone. She had nothing on for the next year and beyond. Otto did not need that information. ‘Yep, Saturday works.’
‘Dinner?’
‘Perfect.'
Tilly nearly danced and punched the air as she walked away.
Getting to the shed, she looked all the way to the right in the direction of the ferry.
Who needed the Maldives, a man playing the piano or tropical breezes on beaches?
Who needed anything at all beyond a foggy little island off the south coast of England and a permanently turning Catherine wheel? Who had just fallen in love?