She nodded. It figured, most people came here from cities like London, Bristol, Birmingham, looking for an escape.
‘And what do you do in London?’
‘Well, until recently I worked in a bank.’ He pulled a downward mouth. ‘Very, very boring. Do you like working in the café?’
‘I do.’ She was aware her tone was a little lukewarm. ‘I thought about studying midwifery.’ It was a rare admission, especially to this stranger. ‘Can’t think of any job more rewarding than being there at those first moments of life.’
‘So why didn’t you?’ he asked, unaware of all the stumbling blocks she’d have to clamber over for this to be possible. She was unsure how to answer, without giving him an accurate picture of life with Annalee; her role as chief comforter and distractor for her nan and the fact that she was wary of leaving in case ... in case her dad returned and she wasn’t here. Yes, this was at the heart of it. Even though she knew it to be madness, it didn’t make it any less of a preoccupation for her.
‘I guess I kind of drifted into working for my cousin, Connie, and it’s not too bad, it’s okay, and so I stayed.’ There it was again, that pithy response. ‘So, you’re no longer at the bank?’
‘Nope!’ He grinned, like this was an achievement. ‘Pretty much like you said before, I woke up one morning and decided I needed to find something that makes me feel good, makes me feel better, and so I’ve taken a mini sabbatical and am trying to figure out what that might be. I’m having a life rethink. Do you know Corner Cottage on Fore Street?’
‘Yes.’ Of course she did, having walked past it nearly every day of her life. She’d had to pass it to get to the High Street, to school, the shops ... It seemed to be a popular holiday rental, right in the thick of things.
‘Well, I’ve covered the kitchen table with a huge sheet of wallpaper and I’m kind of doodling the future, trying to figure out my next move. At the moment I’m thinking of retraining as a teacher or maybe learning to paint properly!’
‘You should talk to Nora, one of our customers – she and her husband have a house on the harbourside and her father was a famous artist. She has one of his pieces in her hallway. It’s very clever, especially to people like me who can’t draw or paint well at all. I dabble but my work is like a child’s!’
‘Maybe I will. And I’m certainly no great talent, but I enjoy it.’ He kicked at the sand.
‘So which is standing out, artist or teacher?’
He took his time formulating a response and she took the opportunity to study his face: the long eyelashes, the laughter wrinkles at the outer edge of his kind eyes, his easy manner. Her stomach bunched with a longing to touch him.
‘I think the teaching. I don’t know the first thing about it other than remembering some of my teachers who had an impact, good and bad, but that feels like a good place to start.’
‘I think it’s great you’re not afraid to make changes that you know will bring you happiness.’ She wished she had his strength of conviction.
‘Well, that’s the plan, but we’ll see. I’ve never had this kind of freedom before. I went straight from school to uni to work and only changed jobs once, hopping from one bank to another, and here I am.’
‘Here you are.’ She roughed her hair with her fingertips, wanting it to dry and stop sticking to her face. ‘I’m not exactly the great adventurer myself. Born here. Stayed here.’ Her tone carried the almost subconscious whiff of embarrassment that she’d never left.
‘It’s all about finding happiness, right?’ She nodded in response. ‘And I have to admit you’ve inspired me, Tawrie.’
Her name on his lips was ... intoxicating!
‘I have?’ She thought he might actually be able to see her heart as it leapt in her chest.
‘Yeah. I think seeing you swim and knowing you do that come rain or shine, it’s cemented the fact that I want to find something I love doing. But it feels scary, I suppose.’
‘Well, that’s what your wallpaper on the table is for, right? To come up with your next big thing?’
‘Yes.’ He closed his eyes and drank in the morning air. ‘I feel different here.’
‘In what way?’ It was astonishing to her how easily she could chat to this man, as if they’d known each other for a lifetime.
‘I don’t know, really, but in Balham I’m always on the go and it feels like I run from appointment to event to dinner to seeing a friend, to catching a bus, jumping on a train, hailing a cab, riding a lift, seeing a movie. Always something I need to do and somewhere I need to be, but here ...’ He exhaled slowly. ‘I can just be.’
‘I sometimes worry I might be missing out on life not being somewhere busy but, you know, life could be worse and I wonder if maybe I’m actually where I should be and that’s that.’ She trotted out the standard cliché that was becoming less sweet in her mouth the more she voiced it.
‘How old are you?’ he interjected, as if unaware that it wasn’t a standard question past the age of seventeen.
‘Twenty-nine next birthday.’
‘Same.’ He nodded and she smiled at this, another connection.
‘Yeah.’ Tawrie drew breath. ‘Sometimes I regret not becoming a midwife, wonder what my life might have been like, but then I remind myself to look up and appreciate all I have around me.’
