“I’ve noticed.”
We fall silent again, but it’s different this time. Comfortable. Balanced.
The heater whirs softly above us, rain tapping on the roof in a steady rhythm. Across the table, Aaron looks relaxed, shoulders loose, spoon idle in his hand.
For someone I met barely four hours ago, he feels strangely familiar—not in what he says, but in the calm between his words.
Maybe it isn’t about learning to be louder after all. Maybe it’s about finding someone who doesn’t need the noise.
At that moment, movement catches my eye.
An older woman and a small beagle shuffle into view, the dog trotting with a sort of weary dignity that suggests he’s used to being indulged. They settle at the table across from us, in one of the other shelters. The woman brushes rain from her coat, straightening her scarf as the dog curls neatly beneath the bench, nose twitching.
A waitress appears a moment later, balancing a tray with a bowl of crumble and a mug of hot chocolate. She sets them down carefully and gives an apologetic smile. “I’m really sorry, Mrs Higgins, but you’re better off out here.”
Mrs Higgins waves her off with cheerful indifference. “Oh, don’t you worry, love. It’s not the first time Bernard’s got me banished from polite company.”
The waitress bites back a smile and retreats, and Mrs Higgins settles herself at the table, patting the beagle’s head with great affection.
It’s then that she glances over and catches me and Aaron watching. She raises an eyebrow, utterly unbothered. “He farted,” she announces, in the same tone most people use for discussing the weather.
Aaron chokes on a laugh. I nearly spill what’s left of my hot chocolate.
Bernard lets out a heavy sigh and curls tighter under the bench, looking the picture of unbothered.
Mrs Higgins nods solemnly. “Cleared the whole back room in under a minute. Quite impressive, really.”
Aaron’s still laughing, trying to smother it behind his hand. “A tactical evacuation?”
“Exactly,” she says, pointing her spoon at him approvingly. “You understand.”
I can’t help it—I laugh too. Properly this time, the sound escaping before I can stop it. Mrs Higgins beams as if that was the point all along.
Bernard, blissfully unaware, snores softly under the table.
Mrs Higgins takes a sip of her hot chocolate, then looks over again, clearly deciding that silence is optional. “So, are you two tourists, then?” she asks brightly.
Aaron answers before I have to. “Something like that. I’m staying with friends in the village. Jon and Abby from the Sunshine Cottage. Eve’s here on holiday.”
Mrs Higgins nods, satisfied. “Lovely spot for it. Though you must think we’ve dreadful weather.”
Aaron smiles. “We’re managing. The rain adds atmosphere.”
She laughs at that, a sharp, delighted sound. “That’s a very kind way of putting it. Most people call it miserable.” She leans a little closer, lowering her voice in mock conspiracy. “If you get fed up with the wind, there’s a spa not far from here. Half the village sneaks off there once the weather turns. Hot pools, massages, mud… the works.”
Aaron tilts his head, amused. “A local recommendation, then?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Mrs Higgins says. “I go every other Thursday. Best decision I ever made. Except Bernard, of course.”
At the sound of his name, the beagle lifts his head, tail giving a lazy wag before collapsing again.
Aaron chuckles. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Mrs Higgins points her spoon at him. “Do. They give discounts in bad weather, and we’ve got plenty of that to go ‘round.”
Aaron thanks her warmly, keeping the conversation flowing, asking just enough questions to keep her talking. I sit quietly, half-listening, half-hiding behind my mug, grateful that he’s doing the heavy lifting.
Between the warmth of the heater, the rhythm of their voices, and Bernard’s soft snoring, I realise I’m… comfortable.
