‘Isn’t it just?’ She threw her head back and tried to match Petra’s stance. ‘And Bear, that’s an unusual name too!’ Again she grinned at the man who had held her hand while she told him about the loss of her dad; the man who had told her he loved her not three hours since.
‘It’s a-a nick-nickname, not many people call me it.’
‘A nick-nickname, I see.’ She held her ground, recalling how he had said something similar as they’d got to know each other, making, she now knew, false confessions. ‘Well, there we go.’ She took a deep breath, entirely disinterested in his explanation. He was a liar and she felt like a fool for having believed anything he’d said. Not that this revelation made it hurt any less. ‘Anyway, I should be, erm ...’ She pointed in the general direction of the grill, where Connie stood with her mouth open, the sausages all but blackened. ‘I just need to ...’ She pointed out the door and Connie nodded. This time with no sarcastic commentary, no jibe, just a look of either horror or abject fury, it was hard to tell.
‘Take your time.’ Her cousin gave a brief nod. ‘Do you want me to come with you?’
Tawrie shook her head, knowing they were busy and with her gone things would quickly turn to chaos.
‘Nice to meet you, Tory, hope to see you around!’ Perky Petra threaded her arm through Ed’s and clung on like they were about to run a three-legged race as she steered him towards the back of the café, where their drinks would arrive any second.
‘Oh, you will.’ She smiled at the woman. ‘Ilfracombe is a small place. It’s hard to avoid people, even if you wish you could.’ Her eyes lingered briefly on Ed’s and she wanted to scream at the sadness that lurked there. How dare he pretend he was bothered! His only regret, she was certain, was having been exposed as the shit he was.
‘I’m going to order us salad,’ Petra informed him as the two walked to the back of the café.
Stumbling out of the building, Tawrie did her best to remain upright as she made her way to the benches that overlooked the harbour. Ordinarily it was a place for quiet contemplation, reflection or rest. Today it was a lifesaver. Collapsing down on to the wooden seat, she kept her head down and her gaze fixed on the floor, trying to sort the jumble of thoughts that whizzed around her head, as sadness kept a vice-like grip on her throat and she fought for breath.
‘Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! I can’t believe it! You’re such an idiot, Tawrie Gunn.’
Putting her hands over her face, she did her best to make sense of what she now knew. Put simply, she had been used and lied to, and the very worst thing, apart from shagging Ed while his pretty girlfriend had no clue, was that she had been so willing, eager! She’d even dropped her knickers the first time she spoke to him. Although even that didn’t seem quite so funny now.
What was it Connie had said? ‘Don’t let him in. Don’t let him get to your heart.’
Tawrie had agreed that she wouldn’t, but she had lied. The lure of him and all he represented had been greater than her ability to think rationally.
She wasn’t sure how long she sat there but she wanted to be sure he and his fiancée had left the café before she returned, and she was confident Connie would call and give her the nod. The thought of having to see them again, holding hands, cheerily chatting ... She bent low and breathed deeply through her nose to try to stem the rising nausea.
‘Tawrie!’
To hear his voice over her shoulder was a surprise. She sat up straight, still in shock, still trying to make sense of the news, to comprehend the worst kind of betrayal, to recognise that she was an idiot. A naïve idiot.
‘Tawrie, please.’ He spoke softly and sat next to her. Just the scent of him, the proximity of him, was enough to open up the channel of distress as her tears fell. ‘Please don’t cry.’
It felt easier to ignore him. She watched his hands grip, flex, and regrip his fingers, suggesting he might want to take her hand, but thankfully knew better than to try.
‘What do you want? Why’re you here?’ she managed through her tears.
‘I told Petra I was going to the loo.’
‘Lying to her too.’ She gritted her teeth.
‘I told you I needed to sort things, so that we could make plans—’
‘And in my naïvety,’ she interrupted, ‘I thought you meant redirect your mail, cancel your London gym membership, bring more clothes! Whatever! But not in a million years did I think it involved a partner!’
‘I-I wanted to tell you, I really did. I tried, but ...’
‘But what?’ she sniffed. ‘When did you try, and what could you possibly say to justify being such a shit?’
‘I was going to tell you tonight, that was my third thing, but I didn’t want it to sound trite, I promise—’
‘Oh well, a promise from you is all I need to convince me!’ She snorted her derision and wiped her face.
‘I know how it looks ...’ he began.
‘Do you?’ she fired. ‘We were in bed together only a few hours ago.’ She pointed up towards Fore Street. ‘We spoke about everything from cricket balls to first loves, going through a bloody checklist! And at no point did you think it might be a good idea to mention that you’re getting married?’
Frustratingly, her tears fell harder.
