He drops a light kiss on top of my hair, and holds me even closer.
“I’m so sorry, Ella – that’s a terrible thing to have happened to you. And you’re right, of course you are – we do know each other, in the ways that count. You’ve…well, you’ve somehow snuck under my skin, and I suppose I didn’t know how to react to that…”
“I could suggest a course of anti-fungals,” I reply, “maybe some hydrocortisone cream?”
“Ha!” he says, laughing. “I’m not entirely sure I want to get rid of you, truth be told. Last night it all seemed simple. This morning…not so much. What are you planning to do?”
Stay here, I think, in your arms, on this beach. Forever.
“I don’t know,” I reply. “Part of me wants to run, if I’m honest. I don’t feel ready for this, for any of it. For being part of a community. For having patients I actually see more than once. For staying still.”
“For me, and whatever this is?”
It is a fair question, but it is not an easy one to answer. I don’t want to hurt him, but he deserves the truth.
“Yes, maybe,” I say quietly. “I’m a bit of a disaster zone, Jake. I have no idea how I’m going to feel from minute to minute, never mind longer term. I could wake up in the morning, and check out of the inn, and check out of this place, and never come back. Or I could decide to stay, to give it all a chance. But if I do…well, it can’t be based on the fact that I fancy you rotten, can it?”
“I don’t know,” he replies, laughing. “Decisions have been based on less. But…okay. I get it. I understand. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have any concerns either. Last night was…”
“Last night,” I complete for him, “and it was amazing. But we were both working on the basis that I’d be leaving, weren’t we? Neither of us had any idea what was about to happen, that they were going to ask me to stay. It was exciting and thrilling and definitely a ten on the anticipation scale – but now it’s a lot more complicated. Now, it would matter. It wouldn’t just be something fun, something we could both walk away from – it would be something entirely different.”
“Something that maybe neither of us is ready for,” he replies, nodding. “I know. I’ve not exactly got the best of track records myself when it comes to romance. My marriage was…well, in the spirit of sharing, it was awful. Had been from the beginning, and it finished when she sent me a text saying she was moving out. I was with my mum in Italy at the time, when she was near the end.”
“God,” I say, shocked. “She sounds like a monster…”
“No. She wasn’t. And if she was, I helped make her one.”
“She didn’t find you in bed with your PA, did she?”
“No,” he says firmly, “in part because my PA was a 52-year-old man called Claude. But I was always working, and she was always second best, and that took its toll. She wasn’t the kind of woman who was used to being second best, and whatever love we had for each other seemed to turn to contempt as time went by. She wanted a lot more than I could give her. Still, the way she did it was…not good. That left its mark. I’ve been a bit traumatised by text messages ever since – maybe that’s why I like this place so much: I don’t get many.
“Since I’ve been here, there’ve been a few flings, but nothing serious – and that’s suited me, to be honest.”
I feel a flicker of jealousy as he says this, and am amazed at my mind’s ability to trip itself up – how can I feel jealous of a man I am effectively telling myself I should walk away from? But whether it makes sense or not, I still feel it. Bloody stupid mind.
“Maybe that’s why we get on so well,” he says, grinning down at me. “Because we’re both complete screw-ups. Though to be fair, you’ve at least formed a meaningful relationship with a weresheep.”
I glance down, see that Larry is currently eating sand, chewing it up, and then coughing it out again. I’m not sure he’s the best judge of character.
“Yep, and maybe that’s about all I can cope with right now,” I say, filled with regret but knowing it’s true.
He nods, and we are both silent for a few moments, lost in our thoughts, a world apart even though we are physically close.
“It feels like we’re both trying to make some sort of decision,” he says, standing up so suddenly I almost slip down into the sand. “When we don’t have to. We’re both trying to control something when maybe the best thing to do is let it go.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, taking hold of his offered hand and hauling myself to my feet.
“I mean, perhaps we should just…wait and see. I don’t think that comes naturally to either of us, but it’s actually the only sensible response. You might stay here. You might go. We might end up together. We might just stay as friends. We might not be able to stand the sight of each other before long. The point is, we don’t have to decide any of it in advance – we can just let if unfold. See what happens.”
I brush sand off my bottom, and frown up at him. Just let it unfold…I’m really not sure I like the sound of that, but perhaps that means I’m just scared. I’m scared of wanting too much, of rejecting too much, of feeling too much – and just letting it unfold sounds risky. Like the kind of thing you should get vaccinated against.
“Well, after tonight, I’m officially homeless,” I say, as we walk back towards the steps. “So I’ve got to make some decisions at least.”
“Impossible to be homeless in Starshine Cove,” he replies, grinning. “Too many people would invite you to stay. Plenty of spare rooms and caravans and beach huts, and failing all of that, Trevor the Druid would set you up in a tent inside his replica Stonehenge.”
“Does he actually have a replica Stonehenge?”
“No – but he does have a replica of a local stone circle in his garden. Has parties there on the solstices, where everybody drinks his home-brewed wine. It’s terrifying. The point is, stop worrying so much – stop setting yourself deadlines and targets and trying to colour inside the lines all the time. If you go, I’ll be sad to see you leave, but I’ll survive – as will you, as will Starshine Cove. If you stay, take every day as it comes, and don’t freak out about us – I won’t be trying to seduce you over candlelit dinners in the snug, or tempting you out for a secret rendezvous in the caves. We both need our breathing space, don’t we?”
