What about us? (6 page)

“Rain is good, I love the rain. 
I miss it so much when I’m not travelling.  We don’t get it...”

He stopped mid sentence,
realising he’d said something he shouldn’t have.

“Well, if it’s rain you like,
then you desert people have come to the right place!” I cut in quickly, helping
him cover up his mistake.

He squeezed my hand as I
rambled on.

“We have every type here; take
your pick.  Why, if we’re really lucky, tomorrow we might get a good old
fashioned downpour to mix with the sea spray!”

For the rest of the way, we
talked about the things we would do once we reached our destination, moving
easily from topic to topic, laughing as we planned our holiday.  It was something
we seemed to have in common; we were both quite happy just living for the
present.  I’ve always found the future tends to have its own views on how it’ll
turn out, so there’s no point in spending too much time talking about it.  The
past can’t be changed, so there’s no point in spending too much time there
either.

We were in luck and as we made
our way through the front door and up the stairs, the house was in darkness. 
It was silent and clearly empty of people; no need to explain anything after all. 
We’d be gone soon after five am and I knew from experience that we’d have the
house to ourselves at that time.  But the thought brought me up short; I’d
completely forgotten about work.  I was on the afternoon shift the following
day.  I’d booked my birthday off, just in case Mum had wanted to do something,
but that was all.  I looked at my watch.  It was almost nine, but there would
be someone there and at least if I phoned now, they’d have plenty of time to
get someone else in.  I found my mobile and while Jack sat on the chair
flicking through the telly channels, I phoned in and spoke to Sue, who was on
duty.  I told her the truth.  She sounded surprised, but I also sensed that she
was pleased for me.

I packed a few things into a
small overnight bag and went down to the kitchen to make some drinking
chocolate.  There was half a shop cake in my part of the cupboard and I took
that up on a tray with the steaming mugs.  He was watching a film that I hadn’t
seen before and I settled on the floor with my back against the chair.  We
didn’t talk much, but now and then he would wind his fingers in my hair.  He
was doing it absent mindedly and it felt alright.

It was so strange.  I realised
just how much I’d missed him and yet another part of my mind was reminding me
how little I really knew about him.  Once the film had finished, I took one of
the pillows and the other throw off the bed and while he was in the bathroom,
made the big chair as comfortable as I could.  Then as he was settling down on
it, I grabbed my tatty old pyjamas and headed for the bathroom myself.

I was horribly self conscious
as I went back into my room, but he was the perfect gentleman.  He was reading
one of my books; his eyes glued to it and didn’t look up until I was under my
covers.

“Sleep well Grace, early start
tomorrow!” he said, peering over the armrest, trying to look comfortable.

“Early starts I’m used to, so
you don’t frighten me.” I told him, “But no shimmering, I don’t care how
uncomfortable that chair is!”

It just popped out before I
could stop it.

“Oh...” I groaned, “I’m sorry,
I didn’t mean anything, I...”

“You saw that? Of course you
did.  A bit rash of them really, but it was an emergency; I had to go.  Don’t
worry Grace, no shimmering, I promise.”

He didn’t sound like he was mad
at me and anyway, he was grinning.

I heaved a sigh of relief; I
was usually so guarded about what I said, thinking it through before a single
word came out, but not with him.  For some reason that I didn’t understand, I
was able to say what I thought and sometimes said what I didn’t even know I was
thinking.  I looked at him again and he was still watching me.

“Really Grace, don’t worry.  Sometimes
it’s too difficult to pretend, especially when you’re with someone you don’t
want to pretend to or lie to.  Go to sleep.  Everything will be fine, I
promise.”

I wanted to believe him, I
wanted everything to be fine.  More than fine in fact and my toes curled at the
idea that he didn’t want to lie to me.

I turned the light off and
listened to him shifting about until he found a comfortable position.  Then his
breathing changed and he was asleep.  I didn’t crane my neck to look at the
stars that night.  Not because they were hidden by clouds, but because I didn’t
need them.

The alarm burred softly and
instead of wishing it would stop, I opened my eyes and reached for the off
button.  Part of me didn’t want to look and the other part was ready to be
disappointed.  I realised that I was holding my breath, trying to find the
courage to turn my head and see for myself if he was still there.

“Morning Grace.” said a sleepy
voice, drifting across the space between us.

I grinned.  “Morning.” I
replied softly.  “You have the bathroom first; I’ll go and make tea.”  But then
I was unsure.  “Or would you prefer something else?”

I’d never seen him drink coffee
but...

“Tea would be lovely.”

His head popped up over the arm
of the chair.  His hair was tousled and his eyes were not quite open, but he
was smiling.

“I promise I won’t shimmer
while you’re gone.” he said quietly, yet again seeming to know what was on my
mind.

“Tea it is then.” I said
happily.

I threw the covers back and dashed
out quickly, before he could see too much of me or my scruffy pyjamas.

Once again we made our way to a
station, but Waterloo this time.  Being Sunday, there were no commuters of
course and in fact, there wasn’t much of anyone that early in the morning.  Most
of the people we saw were clearly still enjoying the night before, while we
were bright and wide awake.  We bought tickets to Axminster, because Jack told
me it was the nearest station and we would have to take a bus or taxi from
there into Lyme Regis itself.

We settled into our seats and
unwrapped some of the sandwiches we’d picked up for the journey.  Then he began
to describe some of the things he wanted to show me, speaking lovingly of the
views I would see from the top of the hill and the harbour wall; the Cap and
the Cobb he called them.  He painted the pictures so well, that when I closed
my eyes I could almost see them for myself and taste the tangy sea air.

“You love it there, don’t you?”
I said, sitting back slightly so that I could see him more clearly.

“I do and I can’t wait to share
it with you.  Of all the places I’ve been to, this one calls to me and whenever
I’m there I feel at home.  It’s a great place to just relax and leave
everything else behind for a while.” he said softly, wistfully even.

“Did you grow up there?”

Almost as soon as it had popped
out, I realised my mistake.

“No sorry, pretend I didn’t ask
that.” I said quickly, reminding myself that I too hated direct questions,
because they usually forced me to lie and I kicked myself for ruining such a
nice moment... again.

“Ah Grace, we can’t keep doing
this; sidestepping I mean.  It’s not right and really, I’m not being fair.  There’s
so much...”

I cut him off, not caring one
bit what there might be so much of.

“Tomorrow I’m going to be twenty-one,
old enough by anyone’s standards to know my own mind.  Fair or not, I want to
do this.  I want to spend this time with you.  I’m sure you’re being honest
with me about the important things; the things that count and the rest doesn’t
matter, not to me, so it needn’t matter to you.”

I stared hard at him as I
spoke, willing him to understand and see the truth in my eyes and in my words. 
It really didn’t matter.  Him being there, sitting opposite me on the train,
now that mattered; it mattered a lot.

He thought about what I’d said,
seeming to weigh it all up.  I watched his face as the thoughts flickered back
and forth and his eyebrows furrowed and straightened.  Then he sucked in his
cheeks, slowly picked up my hand and said carefully, “If you are really
sure...”

“I’m sure.” I replied firmly and
we both grinned.

In fact I’d never been more
sure about anything in my life and now that we’d got that out of the way, we
could relax and enjoy the rest of the journey.

We took a taxi from Axminster
to Lyme Regis and Jack pointed things out to me as we went.  But I wasn’t
really listening; it was all so beautiful in the late morning sun.  I’d never
been anywhere like it and I just drank it all in, trying to commit every last
little detail deep into my memory, so that I could relive it whenever I wanted to;
when it was all over.

We went down one of the quaint old
winding streets in the town centre and pulled up outside a little house.  Jack
told me that this B&B only had two rooms and if possible he’d book both, so
that we’d have one each.  While I waited in the taxi, he jumped out and went to
see if they were open yet.  He came back looking serious and explained that the
double was already taken, but the twin was still vacant.  Did I mind sharing,
or should we try somewhere else where they might have two rooms?

I was touched by his concern.  I
knew he’d chosen this place because he liked it, so I didn’t want to try
anywhere else.

“Of course I don’t mind.” I
replied, but I wished for the umpteenth time that I had cuter pyjamas, not to
mention a figure that would even look good in an old sack.

The house was straight out of a
storybook, with thick stone walls and red and yellow roses climbing all over
the front and it seemed to have stood there for more generations than I had
fingers to count on.  The narrow, well trodden staircase took us up to a
bright, cheerful room with two beds, a small sofa and its own bathroom.  Although
it didn’t have a sea view, I could hear the waves when I opened the window.

“Perfect!” I exclaimed and
turned to face him.

He’d been hovering uncertainly
by the door, but he relaxed immediately and returned my grin.  We didn’t unpack
or anything, we just left the one bag we had in the room and went off to
explore.

As we walked, it was easy to
remember that he was the historian and boy did we walk that day.  He told me
things about the town, like how prosperous it had once been, and in its day,
possibly more important than Liverpool or Portsmouth, until the ships became
too big.  After the great storm of 1824, pioneering lifeboat design took place
there and played an important role in the early years of the lifeboat institution.  
Much of the prehistoric world was known because of the fossils that could be
found on the beach and in the cliffs.  There seemed to be nothing he didn’t
know about the place and so much information just kept pouring out of him.  My
head swum with it all and I had a problem taking it all in.

The town itself was lovely and
everywhere we went the views were spectacular, especially the cliffs and the
sea.  I was as drunk on it all as I had ever been, yet not a drop of alcohol
had passed my lips and for a little while, I thought I understood the feeling
that my Mum was always unsuccessfully searching for.

The park we went to was still
full of roses and the trees had only a hint of autumn colour to them.  As we
sat on a bench, I couldn’t help myself and started to hum ‘What a wonderful
world.’ Jack knew the words, well the first verse anyway and we sat holding
hands, doing our duet.  It was one of life’s magic moments and I never wanted
to leave the place.  Suddenly it was as though I too had found somewhere I
could call home, but hadn’t even known that I’d been searching for it.  I was
exhausted, yet deliriously happy at the same time and at lunchtime we headed
for a pub near the Cobb.

Afterwards we walked along the
harbour wall.  Jack was describing a particular storm to me and it was
difficult to believe that this water, so calm and gentle now, could ever be so
cruel and wild.  Then my mobile rang and he stopped mid sentence.  I fished it
out of my pocket.  Only my Mum or work ever called me and I knew it wouldn’t be
work.  I looked at the display and my heart sank a little.  Unfortunately I
could never tell by the ringtone what mood she would be in, but I hoped she’d
calmed down and wanted just to talk to me, apologise even.

Best get it over with I thought,
so I moved away from him slightly, pressed the green button and put the phone
to my ear.

“Swwweetie...” she slurred.

I sighed unhappily.  She’d
either started early or had been at it all night.

“Afternoon Mum.” I said
quietly.

“Is it?” she said, sounding
confused.

She’d been at it all night then...

“Pop by on your way home from
work, there’s a love, I’m a bit short.”

I knew that if I wasn’t quick,
she’d hang up and assume that I’d be there sometime during the day.  She’d said
what she’d wanted to say and had clearly forgotten our most recent row, but
then she usually did.  It was me that remembered them and me that felt hurt for
ages afterwards.