Her smile was broad and dirty. “You’ll have to try it and find out.”
We spent the evening sat around the fire as the temperature outside grew cool. Outside the sky was full of stars, silence surrounding us but for the crackling of the fire and a hooting owl. In bed, she fell asleep with her head on my chest, exhausted from the sea air and the short walks. We made love slowly again, her riding me, giving me free range to play with her tits and clit. As much as the years and situations had separated us, she was still inexplicably mine and as I came inside her again I understood that I had never really let her go, even if back then I thought I had done, because I’d had too.
I woke early, the sun’s faint light dripping in through the windows where we hadn’t closed the curtains. We had no neighbours, set far back from the road and a good quarter of a mile from the next house, so we didn’t lack privacy. Claire stirred in my arms and I debated whether I or not I could ever let go of her.
We’d spoken to her family last night, assuring them she felt okay and we were safe where we were. Marie had chatted about the cases she was overseeing and the other lawyers in the department and then gone through some technical details on Katie’s divorce. I’d been reminded of watching Claire in the law library when we students and she was in discussion with one of her peers. Her face had lit up as she’d debated a certain interpretation then thrown in a precedent. At that moment she’d captivated me with her brightness and enthusiasm and I’d been fucking glad I hadn’t studied law because I couldn’t have competed.
The temptation to stay in bed with my girl was great, but the blue sky and start of a perfect day called also. There were things that needed to be done to the garden; my parents had been happy to bring contractors in to renovate the cottage, knowing that Nick and I didn’t have the time, but they’d asked us to muck in with the half acre plot and given us free range to put in what we wanted. Nick wanted a play area for the twins, so I’d agreed to start to level out an area of the grass and look at what we needed for the base to put one of those climbing frame and swing monstrosities on it. I wanted a hot tub, especially having seen the ones Claire’s parents had recently installed, but that needed a bit more working out.
I snuck out from around her, hearing a quiet murmur as she rearranged herself in her sleep. Pulling on old denim shorts and a vest, I headed down to the kitchen and brewed coffee, opening the bi-fold doors in the kitchen and letting the day in. There was no phone to distract me, or email or website queries. It was just me and and the outdoors, and Claire when she was awake. That was it. That was all I needed at this moment in time. Reality could keep its head hidden under a rock.
An hour later I had sweat running down my back and a spade in my hand. The manual labour was hard but what I needed after months of spending too much time in the gym instead of actually doing what my dad called ‘proper work’.
“Long-time no see.”
I looked up from the ground I was trying to level and saw a face I hadn’t seen for probably ten years.
“You’re quite the man now.”
“Edward Trelawny! I’ll be damned.” I dropped the spade and went to greet him. He was older and frailer, but his skin was as ruddy as ever and tucked under his arm was the ever-present newspaper.
“They’ve not put me in the ground yet, boy. Although I’m ninety in a couple of weeks. How long are you here for?”
He patted me on the back and I swiped him into a bear hug, knowing he wouldn’t be bothered about the sweat and the soil I’d covered myself in. “A week maybe.”
“Still the same Killian,” he said. “Have your coffee making skills improved?”
“You’ve not changed either. Still after a freebie all the time,” I said. When Nick and I had been on our own at the cottage as teenagers or even in our twenties, he’d come each day to check on us and, on occasion, reported back to our parents. He’d been our surrogate grandfather and his wife, Elizabeth, a grandmother. She’d died just over twelve years ago, leaving Edward a widower. He’d been steadfast as always, taking things with perspective and talking about the good times he and Elizabeth had enjoyed. They’d travelled, enjoyed seeing their grandchildren and made the most of the all the time they’d had together. And he’d not wanted her to suffer any more. “I’m ready for some breakfast too. Have you eaten yet?”
He chuckled. “Had my usual oats and cow’s milk at five this morning, but I’ll not say no to a bacon sandwich.” His accent had the soft tones of Cornwall, reminding me of childhood summers, days spent wrapped in sand and sea and eating ice cream.
“Come on then. Let me wash up and I’m feed you, old man.”
“You’ve not got a lady back there that’ll be disturbed?”
I grinned. “She’s called Claire and I’d appreciate her not knowing about my errant youth,” I said, wiping the excess dirt from my hands onto my shorts. My vest had long since been abandoned, half hoping Claire would come searching for me and like what she saw. I wasn’t above peacocking.
Edward shrugged. “She’ll hear it from someone if you’re here long enough.” He followed me back to the cottage, unsurprised by the renovations that had been carried out. I figured he had probably been over most days, inspecting what was going on and keeping my parents up to date with the odd phone call.
“Hear what?” Claire stood in the patio area, the barbeque lid up and the faint scent of cooking wafting towards us. “What will I hear?”
“About Killian’s errant youth,” Edward said, offering her his hand. “I’m Ed. Your closest neighbour. And former overseer of this place when Killian’s parents left him and Nick alone here.”
“So, you had your hands full then?” She gave him a wide smile and for a moment my eyes were completely stuck on her. She was wearing tiny shorts and a plain blue t-shirt, her hair still mussed from sleep and her face bare. She was beautiful and she was here with me, finally. Unless Edward managed to scare her away.
“They were good kids. If you’ve any free time, Killian, there’s a slate on the roof that’s slipped. Could do with it fixing and Jerry the Roofer won’t have time. He’s working on the thatched thing near Boscastle.” Edward said, giving me pleading eyes. There would’ve been a time when he’d have fixed it himself but I was glad he was asking now. At nearly ninety, climbing on the roof was probably something he shouldn’t be attempting.
“I’ll sort it tomorrow,” I said. “Early. You can make us breakfast for a change.”
We ate sausage and bacon baps and drank coffee and fresh orange juice, the sun starting to bake down on us. Claire was relaxed, stretching her legs out the catch the rays, laughing at the tales Edward insisted on telling. It felt like we were properly on vacation, even though I was still covered in soil from digging and was in need of a shower.
“So, you’re Killian’s lady friend then,” Edward said, pushing an empty plate away from him. “He had a girlfriend called Claire once before, I seem to remember. Spent the whole summer moping about because she wouldn’t answer his calls or return his messages. Ended up joining the Navy looking like a real grump, moping over a girl.”
I saw Claire look uncomfortable, then the more Edward spoke, the lighter her expression became. “That was me,” she said. “I was the Claire back then.”
Edward looked at her, considering. “Were you now? And now you’re here. Interesting.”
“How so, old man?” I said. I’d been calling him old man since I was a kid.
