"No. She lives in Bristol and has no intention of ever coming back to Port Derrum. She's even bought some stuff online from the gallery to try and support us. She's a very nice lady and not interested in making a fuss." I tug the throw I've brought with me for the cooling air down over my bare shins. "She's nothing at all like her father, lucky woman."
We descend into silence. There isn't anything more to discuss and no reason for him to still be here, unless he's waiting for me to offer a drink. I have no intention of doing so. Not if I want to keep some for Ed.
"Well, I s'pose I better be off. Go and make some sensible decisions about money or something."
"Theo?"
"Yes?"
"Why are you now talking appropriately for someone of your cultural background?"
He sighs. "I've been forced to do a lot of growing up over the last couple of months. And...it's time to start trying to be comfortable in my own skin."
I sit up at that. I had no idea Theo had the capacity for self-reflection, nor that he was insecure. "You weren't before?"
"Not really. I know who I'mmeantto be. A public-school graduate with family money with which to leverage more money and success off. I'm just not sure I've the aggression required to be doing that." He uncrosses his ankles, then crosses them the other way. "I think the one genuine thing I've done is buy most of this building in support of the arts. I really do like this town, Bess. I don't want its cultural heritage to die. And I'm very sorry I did my best to hasten its demise anyway."
As much as I'm tempted to get my violin out for the poor little rich boy, I think, maybe, I need to make an attempt at giving him a break instead and see if I can work my way up to a bit of understanding.
Not too much though. I point my finger at him. "This Theodore Pinkerton I think I can work with without being a stroppy cow. Though if you keep that number plate, I promise I'll rip the hood ornament off again."
"Already on the to do list, chica."
I eye him through narrowed lids.
He laughs. "There she is. Being on the receiving end of your brand of censure is like being licked by the sandpaper-tongue of a cat, or getting an electric shock off a charged surface. Unpleasantly pleasant. I don't want to do away with it entirely."
He pushes away from the chimney and heads for the door. "Ciao, Bess."
"Goodbye, Theo."
There's an exchange of greetings when he pulls open the door and then a fresh set of footsteps approaches.
"Hello, my lover," I say before he's in sight.
"Hello, my beautiful one." Ed's voice is low and I shiver.
He laughs. "You have no idea how heady it is to get that kind of reaction from you just by doing something totally ordinary like greeting you."
I push the small table out of the way so Ed can drag his sun lounger next to mine. "You know very well it's thewayyou greet me rather than the greeting itself."
Ed reclines next to me and reaches for my hand. "I do. And I will never stop trying to make you vibrate with pleasure at the sound of my voice."
I look into his lashed-fringed eyes. "Do you think sun loungers are robust enough for aggressive love making?"
"I think it's a possibility. I also think I'm not ready for that kind of public spectacle. If you can see people down there with your binoculars, they can see you up here."
"Killjoy."
"Yep." Ed reaches over, removes my glass from my hand and takes a sip before handing it back. "I promise to make it up to you later. If the idea of doing it in public really does it for you, we can put cardboard cutouts of Mr and Mrs Kavanagh at the foot of the bed."
"Is that a promise?"
"Anything for you, my darling." Ed leans over to kiss me.
"How do you feel about cheesy pasta bake?"
"I'm not normally into kinky stuff, but okay."
