Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
Rowan
Later that night, after Angus and I have finally pulled ourselves apart, and Joan has finished making ribald jokes about the young lovebirds, and Marnie has dragged us all to the pub where Priya has played her violin at open-mic night to the roaring stamp of the crowd, and Heather’s surprised us all with a crooning ballad, and Lila’s bullied Angus into singing a duet, and we’ve eaten our weight in pie and chips, after most everyone else has gone to bed, and Angus has built us a fire, and I’ve curled up in his arms and laid myself back on his broad chest, we sit for a long time, watching the stars.
“Heard you sold the farm,” I say into the calm night.
“Some of it. Not all. Heard you quit your job.”
“Ewan is such a gossip.” I laugh.
“I may have asked Stuart and Jonathan to keep tabs on you.”
I press my lips together to hide the smile that is threatening to pull them apart, but I know Angus notices it anyway.
“Why did you do it?”
“What?”
“Sell. I thought you loved the farm.”
“I did. I do. But it’s better in Stuart’s hands – he’s got the passion to see this through, the vision.
And I’ve not walked away entirely. I’ll keep helping him source new suppliers, do some handywork.
Bits and bobs. But I can’t own it anymore.
As long as it’s mine, I’m always going to be stuck in the past. I’m never going to be able to let him go.
” I don’t need to ask who he is. Angus has spoken about his Da enough.
“That’s why I wasn’t walking this year. I needed a fresh start.
” He runs a gentle hand through my hair. “Turns out, I needed you.”
I smile again. “That must feel hard – saying goodbye.”
“It’s not been easy. But it’s time.” I can feel him shift behind me. “I want to build a new life. Something for me. And, hopefully, something for you.”
“I’d like that.”
“I’m wondering, actually, would you want to go travelling with me?”
“Travelling?”
“Go somewhere new. Explore.”
I consider. Travelling. Sleeping in a different bed every night. Eating food I’d never tried before. Watching the sun set over horizons I’ve never seen before. Angus and I, somewhere on the other side of the world.
It sounds risky. It sounds out of my comfort zone. It sounds like it will be hard.
I’m in.
“Where do you want to go?”
His arms squeeze tighter. “Anywhere. As long as it’s with you.”
My heart beats hard inside my chest. “Angus?”
“London?”
“I love you.”
He kisses the top of my head. “I love you too.”
Above us, the stars whirl their own journeys across the sky.
I imagine the future we’ll build. I can’t picture it yet. Maybe we’ll go travelling for a month. Maybe it will last a year. Maybe we’ll settle somewhere new. Maybe we’ll come back home. Maybe we won’t go at all.
And, after, I don’t know if I’ll move, or he will, or if we’ll find somewhere to meet in between, or spend a year sitting on trains across the country, waiting until we’re in each other’s arms.
I don’t know if we’ll live in a flat or a house, where he’ll hang his plaid shirts and I’ll store my hiking boots.
If we’ll spend lazy Sundays in bed with a book, or if he’ll make us get up with the sun and drive to the nearest patch of grass.
If this will fizzle out after six months, or I’ll be nodding off beside him when we’re both eighty years old.
I don’t know anything, except that when I’m not with him there’s an ache in my chest, and that nothing has ever felt so good as the press of his arms.
That when he whispers in my ear, the rumble of his voice makes me think of home.
I meant what I said: this is a risk. The idea of loving him, of losing him, scares me to death. But living safe hasn’t made me happy. Hasn’t brought me joy.
We’re on the path. Now we have to keep going. Day by day. Step by step.
That’s how we’ll climb this mountain.
That’s how we’ll get to the top.