‘Fiancée? Oh, what a rotter!’ Jago shook his head, spitting water that had trickled into his mouth.
She couldn’t disagree.
‘You know, dear, I remember everything about the early days with Maudie when we first met – everything. What she wore, what we said, the things that made us laugh. Although in fairness most things made us laugh; we were quite the giddy young things.’
This she could relate to: the giddiness.
‘I wasn’t only excited for what was happening in that moment, but also for everything that lay ahead. I knew very quickly that it was her. That she was who I’d been waiting for.’ This phrase was so reminiscent of her experience, it was at once a validation of her feelings and a devastating reminder of what had slipped through her fingers. ‘And even though we’ve been together for a hundred and fifty years’ – he rolled his eyes comically, his face lapped by the sea as a wave came in – ‘I still feel like that. I’m still happy, excited to be with her, even though what comes next for us, at this stage in our lives, is without doubt the toughest part of any love affair.’
She felt the boulder of sadness in her throat, picturing her beloved dad, knowing how devastating and unrelenting grief could be.
‘And that’s what you need to hold out for – someone who makes you feel like that.’
‘Thank you, Jago.’
‘Not at all. Maudie isn’t the only one with advice, difference is I don’t feel the need to give mine every five minutes.’ He winked at her. ‘Shall I tell you a secret?’
‘Yes please.’ She was cheered by their interaction, the closeness. It was odd yet perfectly comfortable, bobbing about in the sea with her fellow Peacock.
‘I’m not deaf. Or at least not as deaf as she thinks I am.’
‘Jago! Why would Maudie think you were?’ She was perplexed.
‘Because I let her think it, my dear! For the last decade or so at least, my beloved wife has spoken with complete candour, confident that I can’t hear a word. I know all her secrets. I know where she hides her chocolate stash, songs that remind her of former crushes, I know that when I slurp hot tea it maddens her to her very core. I know that when our daughter says she’ll ring and doesn’t it cuts her to the quick. I know that she farts when she thinks I’m occupied with something. I know she makes up the lyrics to songs, filling in the gaps with nonsensical words. I know she gives me the fattest chop, the crispiest potatoes, the largest glass of whatever we’re drinking. I know she loves me and I know how to amend my behaviours to make her life better. And all this I know because she speaks freely, confident in the knowledge that I can’t quite hear.’
‘I love how much you two love each other.’ She felt the beginnings of a smile; it was impossible not to find this fact wonderfully life-affirming.
‘Morning, darling.’ Maudie swam over, breathing hard, her chest heaving, muscled arms steadying herself – she was a strong swimmer.
‘Morning, Maudie.’ She leaned back and let the water coat her hair.
‘Goodness me, was there ever a more mournful greeting! What’s the matter, Tawrie? You’ve lost your sparkle today!’
‘I have a bit.’ She hadn’t planned on crying again, and yet those darn tears broke their banks regardless.
‘Now, now whatever is the matter?’ She saw Maudie exchange a look with Jago and his subtle long blink.
‘Just feeling a bit sorry for myself,’ she confessed.
‘Anything to do with that young man?’ Maudie was a woman with her finger on the pulse.
‘He’s a rotter, Maudie! I’ve just told Tawrie as much,’ Jago piped up.
‘Well, I’ll tell you what I’ve always told my daughter.’ The old lady took her time. ‘If someone doesn’t want you then they’re not the person you thought they were and therefore what you miss about them, or the life you imagined with them, doesn’t exist. Because they are not the right person. They’re a fraud and who wants to be lumbered with a fraud! Do you understand?’ She spoke plainly, as was her way.
‘Kind of.’ She didn’t want to think of Ed in those terms, didn’t want to accept that he just didn’t want her. The wanker-named liar.
‘I’m losing the morning, better get on.’ Jago lifted his hand and pulled away, satisfied there was little he could do or add.
Maudie stared at her. ‘Right, get a grip, Tawrie. Take control of your emotions because you’re going to need them. You need to present as strongly as you can.’
‘I know.’ She nodded and gave a false smile, something she was quite adept at: digging deep, finding a smile, and standing firm and calm while her nan and mum fell apart. ‘I’m fine,’ she lied. ‘I’ll do a couple of laps and head in.’
‘You might want to rethink that.’ Maudie jerked her head towards the beach as she swam off.
Tawrie turned in the water, sending a bow wave out around her. Her heart jumped in her chest. There he was. Sitting by her bike with his knees up to his chest and his arms wrapped around his shins. He was wearing the pink linen shirt and she could guess that the buttons would be askew. Her thoughts were jumbled. Her body, it seemed, had forgotten that they were estranged, and the familiar flame of attraction leapt in her stomach and radiated along her limbs, before her brain put the lid on it, extinguishing all possibility of physical contact.
‘I want to say I love you.’ That’s what he’d whispered and it had felt like magic.
