“Six. I’ve already been out on the boat while you were giving it zeds.” He sat up, running his hand through his hair and looking just like the same boy I’d met when I was seventeen, only bigger and buffer and with thicker stubble. “Some of us aren’t princesses lounging in bed all day.”
“Some of us aren’t old men who need naps.” I poked him in his side. “You really don’t care about your face being shown on social media and people gossiping about us, do you?”
“Not in the slightest. It doesn’t make any difference in my world. People know where I’m based though, so Cash is going to figure out you’re here. That’s why it might be better if we go to Manchester or Liverpool for a couple of days.” He took his phone back off me and put it down on the bed. “Let Cash think we’re not here at the moment.”
“Are you worried if he does come to Puffin Bay?”
“Only about what I’d do to him if he comes near you.” His words were jolly enough, but there was steel behind them.
“I have security. You know Roe Holland is a genius at tracking people online.” I had to have faith that I was going to be okay because if I didn’t, I’d become a recluse.
Caleb shrugged and glanced out of the window. “Shame. Anyway, do you want to walk up Yr Wyddfa anyway? It’s been years since we did that.”
“I’d like to. Then I’ll feel miles away from microphones and executives and people.” Which sounded like bliss.
“I’m still a person.” He managed to look offended.
“You don’t count. Clear off and I’ll get ready. Is the weather okay for it?”
He looked out of the window towards the sea. “Should be fine. I’ll go and get the kit together and see what I can pack for lunch from the kitchen. How long will you be?”
“Half an hour.”
“Likely story.”
I was actually ready to leave with walking boots on in just under thirty-five minutes, no make-up needed, and my hair tamed into a messy bun that was stuck in place with hairspray. I didn’t look like people would expect me to, wild and dressed in outdoor wear that was practical rather than pretty. This was another thing about the island: there were enough places, restaurants and pubs, to warrant dressing up to go out occasionally, but for most of it, it was for practical pursuits, walking and climbing, wild swimming and beachcombing.
“You look like you already live here.” Caleb confirmed what I’d been thinking. “Maybe you’ll be the next Mavis.”
“There’ll never be another Mavis.” I shook my head, remembering the old woman who’d almost ruled Puffin Bay. She’d known everything that’d gone on in the town and very little was ever done without her permission. After she’d died, there’d been a sea fret that’d set in for days, like the place was actually in mourning and not just the people. When it’d cleared, it’d left the brightest winter day and then an afternoon of rare snow, just enough to have the kids euphoric and the Puffin Inn fill up with locals to toast Mavis.
I’d been here for the three weeks after she’d died, a break between touring around America and Europe, and it’d been the thing that kept me going. I needed my base to be here whatever happened next.
“I’d love to be the next Mavis.”
“I think you’ve already been beaten to that status by Clover, thinking about it.” He started the engine of his battered four by four. “I’ve told her what gossip she can pass on.” He ran me through what he’d said about us, mentioning to her about Peter Cash because Clover would be one of the first people to notice if anyone off was hanging around.
Clover had lived in Puffin Bay all her life, knew everyone and everything that went on in the town, just like Mavis had, and loved to drop a bit of harmless gossip. She was married to Grayson, the town’s doctor, who obviously knew what confidentiality was, and was the mother of three cute kids as well as being a freelance editor for some well-known authors, and I’d always loved her quirk. Caleb was right though; she would be the new Mavis. I wondered how Grayson would feel about that.
“Which path are we taking up the mountain?” Yr Wyddfa was the second highest mountain in the United Kingdom, and the highest in England and Wales. It was a popular climb and some areas had been eroded by tourists’ feet and litter. I had no doubt that Caleb had stowed a pair of gloves and a bin bag to collect rubbish that’d been carelessly dropped on the way down.
“Rhyd Ddu. I don’t think you’ve done that one before. Thane and I walked it a couple of months ago and I think you’ll be okay on it. We should be back down just before dusk as long as we keep up a good pace.” He changed the station on the radio, one of my songs coming on which made us both laugh, like it always had done.
I started singing along, the track about a woman who’d broken free from a job she hated, no romance in it, no sexy references, just a straight up track about stepping away from the patriarchy. I’d written it after a meeting with the record label execs who’d wanted me to do a risqué photoshoot so in their words, I could ‘shake off the teeny-bopper image for once and for all’. It was one of my favourite songs and I yelled it at the top of my voice while we meandered along country roads, crossing over the Menai Bridge onto the mainland and towards the Snowdonia Mountain range, leaves coating the trees in many colours now that the seasons were properly on the change.
We parked up, falling into a familiar pattern as we strapped rucksacks onto our backs, distributing the weight a little more evenly, and taking a quick selfie with the start of the path behind us.
I uploaded it to social media with a caption about being free as a bird. There were lots of things to read into that which would irritate Charlie-boy, and as an added bonus, tease my fans, and if Peter Cash was thinking me and Caleb were in the past because of the date of the photo posted this morning, this would underline Caleb and I were happening now.
Which still sounded weird.
Caleb and I.
Me and Caleb.
I was aware of his gaze coming my way as we started along the path, the scenery shockingly divine in its autumn wear, red and oranges and golds striking against the blue grey of the day.
“You look more like you.” He adjusted the beanie hat he had on.
