He leant in for one last kiss, determined to remember how this moment felt, to fix it in his head and make it a memory to hold on to, to get him through the next six weeks.
‘Mmmm. I must go, or my mother will be having kittens. I promised to take her out for lunch for her birthday, and I should probably get home and change first, and grab the present I made. I’ll see you on Monday.’
‘You will. But we won’t be able to do this.’ He kissed her again.
‘No, we won’t.’ She gave a little half-smile, a shrug. ‘You cannot out me as the woman who sleeps with her boss.’
‘I’m not your boss, Rosy is.’
‘I know, if only she were interested, huh,’ she winked. ‘Put me down and let me go. My mother will kill me if I’m late.’
‘She’ll forgive you when she sees the bracelet. I reckon we can gamble on one last kiss.’
‘Oh, go on then.’
As he watched her walk away, he knew his grin had taken over his face. She rounded the corner and his phone vibrated against his leg. He pulled it out of his pocket. Maybe it was her, saying she’d be back after she had taken her mum to lunch.
It wasn’t.
‘Where are you? I’m sitting in the car park at Fistral and you’re nowhere to be seen.’
‘Oh shit, Ben, sorry. My weekend panned out differently than I expected. Um, I’ll grab my stuff and jump in the car now. Start without me and I’ll see you in the water. Sorry, mate. Right behind you, promise.’
Chapter Thirty-eight
The two men sat on the beach, boards by their side, staring out to the sea, watching the beach live its summer life: families with small children, buckets and spades, and cooler bags full of food; old stalwarts with their beach windbreaks and a sturdy mallet; teenagers meeting, pleased to escape the presence of their parents; and of course, the surf community, out in force today. Ben had started a fire once the sun started to go down and they were both sitting there with a flask of coffee, drinking from old tin mugs and looking out across the ocean.
‘Honestly, mate, I’m not sure what you’re making the fuss about. You really like her.’
‘Ireallylike her.’
‘Right, so that’s great. You really like her; she liked you enough to stay over the night, sorry, to stay-over-and-have-the best-weekend-of-your-life-like-ever. Surely that’s job done and all’s good.’
‘No. Not at all. When we were together it made sense for us to have this weekend and then wait because…’
‘Oh no, tell me you did not ruin this by telling her about your five-year bloody plan!’
‘She knows about that andshethinks it’s a good idea.’ Kam grinned as Ben shook his head and placed it in his hands, as if all hope had left the world. ‘But no, not that. To wait and get this half term out of the way, see where I stand on the job front, have a chance to be together and see how things go before everyone knows.’
‘And before your mum descends,’ Ben laughed knowingly. ‘All sounds very sensible to me. So what wrong with that?’
‘I’m worried that this will turn into a one-night stand, that we will move back into the friendzone and not be able to leave it again. I want a relationship with Pippa and I want it now. The rest will all sort itself out. It seems bloody stupid to spend the next six weeks being in the classroom with her and acting like nothing’s happened, when to me everything’s happened. Sod my plan. This throws it all up on its head and twirls it around. I’m prepared to take the gamble. I’m in a good place. Even if I don’t get the Penmenna job, I’ve got all these other interviews coming up. Dad might not be happy with my decision to teach, and I’ve always wanted to make him proud, but you know what, I’m a good man – I am – and if that’s not enough for him, then why would I put my future happiness on hold for approval I may never get. Pippa’s awesome. I want to give this a go and I want to give it a go now.’
‘Okay. I’ve never seen you so fired up. I agree with pretty much all of that, but some perspective perhaps? You’ve spent one night with her. Maybe you’re pushing too far, too fast? Maybe you should slow down, keep it professional at work, wait out the term and see how things develop, you know, slowly. Slowly, slowly.’
‘Yes, I appreciate that. But it’s not slowly, slowly. It could be stop, stop. It feels fraudulent. I want to speak up, know for certain what’s going on in her head. I was so convinced we were on the same page, but now, in the cool light of day, what if we weren’t? What if I was a quickie and she wants to get on with everything with nothing changing, and then she can let me off the hook completely when we’ve finished working together? She told me her friends accuse her of being a commitment-phobe and they’ve known her a lot longer than I have. Why would she change that now, after one weekend? Perhaps the doubt will seep in, perhaps the doubt never left?’
‘Did you ask her?’
‘Not outright, no. In the moment it didn’t occur to me.’
‘So now you’re out of the moment, perhaps you should find your voice?’
‘Yeah, maybe.’
‘Well then, do it. Even if you’re postponing things until the end of term, youareable to speak to her! Come on, you’re a lion. Let’s hear you roar!’
‘Meow.’
