A human with a heart that was figuring out how to untangle itself from the barbed wire in which it now found itself snared ...
A human whose emotions and wants were steeped in confusion.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
TAWRIEGUNN
AUGUST2024
The early sun was showering Ilfracombe in a golden glow. The only thing brighter and more joyful was Tawrie Gunn’s mood. From the moment she announced she really had to leave, to this point where Edgar now lingered on the top step of Corner Cottage as she dawdled on the one below, was an age. Hours, in fact. Neither of them, it seemed, was in a hurry to put an end to this date. Dusk had slipped to evening, which had become night, and as they had sat on the sofa, chatting, laughing, swapping wine for tea and crisps for toast, dawn had broken. Their encounter had been chaste, and all the more exciting for it. It was uncomfortable, the thought of leaving, exiting the bubble they had created – a space that might have been in the middle of Fore Street, but felt like a secret bolt-hole for them alone. They had idled in an alternate universe where all was wonderful and the future hung like a bright thing, tantalisingly within reach.
Her reluctance to leave was unparalleled, even if it was only to head home to grab her swimming kit and then, after her dip, to go off to work. What she wanted to do, however, more than anything, was stay beside him, keeping him within reach and in sight, unwilling to waste a second. These were new feelings and the strength of them was more than a little frightening. But mostly wonderful – entirely wonderful, in fact! Connie’s warning about ‘men like him’ had been well heeded, but right now, as she stood within touching distance of him, she felt almost smug at how right things felt.
‘Do you have to go?’ He reached out and let a lock of her hair slip through his fingers. ‘I’ve got bacon.’
‘Bacon? Well, why didn’t you say!’ She made out to walk back inside. ‘I really do have to go, sadly. I have a thing about lateness and I can’t miss my swim.’
‘Obviously!’ he laughed. ‘Is it my imagination or did that whole night last about an hour?’ He smiled at her, taking in her face from this different angle, which she found simultaneously thrilling and terrifying. Would this light show off her large pores, was her scalp greasy?
‘Not your imagination.’ She smiled. ‘It was like we put it in a microwave andping! Here we are.’
‘And now you’ve got to go and I have to eat bacon alone, and I’ll probably finish off the crisps. Plus, there’s lots I still want to say!Somuch to talk about!’ he enthused, as if he’d just woken from a deep and restorative sleep and was keen to tackle the day.
‘I’m sure you’ll manage. And Ed, thank you for ...’ She hesitated, knowing this was not a simple, single date, unsure of what words could both adequately describe her happiness without freaking him out with her enthusiasm. ‘I don’t know, I guess, thank you for a great selection of nibbles and for my first and possibly last ever Uno tournament.’
‘You never stood a chance, to be fair. I’m an Uno master.’
‘Well, good for you!’ she laughed.
‘Do you want to go for a drink?’ His suggestion was as surprising as it was welcome.
‘What, now?’
‘Good God, no, it’s breakfast time! What kind of offer would that be?’ He pulled a face in mock horror.
She gave a small smile, thinking of the times she’d come down the stairs to find her mum at the table, a coffee in a mug, a cigarette simmering on the edge of an ashtray and a small shot glass full of vodka.
‘A scary one,’ she admitted.
‘I was thinking tonight we could go to the pub, or the Terrace Tapas.’ He pointed to the restaurant and bar immediately opposite. ‘We can sit outside, have a couple of cocktails. Do you have plans? Or I could open a bottle here at home, if that’s not too dull two nights in a row? We don’t have to play Uno if you’re still smarting from your defeat? Or we could go for a long walk? Whatever, anything, I just need to know I’m going to see you.’
She bit her lip to avoid saying that two, three hundred nights in a row she would jump at the chance, dropping any plans without hesitation. And Uno or not, she couldn’t care less how they spent their time as long as she was next to him.
‘Home?’ This word resonated. ‘Well, you’re certainly making the most of your holiday let! And no, I don’t have plans.’ She laughed, as if this idea was what fuelled her absolute delight. Whereas it was the fact he was arranging to see her again, taking her for a drink. She felt a rush of joy spread through her veins. This was what happened to other people, this was how men treated women who were shiny haired and giggly, not a slightly moody waitress who only owned jeans and was in love with the sea.
‘Oh.’ He looked over his shoulder into the pretty interior. ‘It is a holiday let most of the time, but my family own the house. In fact, we do – my sister and I. Don’t know why I didn’t say, didn’t want to sound ...’
Tawrie tried to speak but the words cued up on her tongue got buried under an avalanche of nervous excitement. Did this mean he might be sticking around?
‘All right then.’ She twisted to leave before taking one last look at him. ‘I think a long walk would be nice. About seven?’ she suggested, as she shoved her hands in her jeans pockets and tried to calm her flustered pulse.
‘About seven. Come and knock for me!’
‘I will.’ It felt wonderful, unifying, to already have in-jokes, a history, no matter how brief.
Without warning, he reached out and pulled her to him, and it happened.
He kissed her.
