‘And you call yourself a Bristolian?’
He smiles and shrugs and an idea pops into my head. I reach for his hand and squeeze. ‘Come on then, I’ve got something to show you.’
I drag him across the ancient hillfort covered by a blanket of grass around the observatory and as he stops to admire the view again, I impatiently tug him on. My idea has me fired up and I am excited to share it. Although the truth is, it has been many years since I’ve been down here and my shoes are not made for clambering. I hope the path is still passable, although if it isn’t, the strength of my determination alone will flatten any undergrowth that tries to prevent access. Tonight, I am the Prince inSleeping Beauty, nothing is going to stop me.
Jay follows behind me, letting me guide him and chuckling at my impatience. I reach the hidden path and Jay’s gentle chuckles turn to a burst of laughter as I start to hack a bit of branch with my high heel. The hi-ya’s may be a bit much but it means I am laughing with him as I clear the path.
‘You have to be joking me. You want to take me down there in the dark, on the edge of a cliff-face?’ I spin around, a hundred filthy jokes springing to mind, and accept he does have a point. Health and Safety Lily would not allow this. But in-the-moment-Lily feels a need to show him this place, to include him in this secret bit of my past. And I have faith in myself to get us there safely. The dangerous bit is fenced off but I can understand why Jay is querying it.
I drop his hand, pop my shoe back on and move towards him, standing so close that you could barely fit a piece of paper between his chest and mine. I feel the sexual pull that I have been working so hard to resist spring up.
Argghhh!
No, Lily, no.
I grab his hand again and consider helter-skeltering over the grassy banks and back to the street I live on, up my steps and into the privacy of my house. Instead, I lean in, tap him on the nose and watch his eyes close languidly and then pop back open and fix on mine. I hold them whilst trying not to imagine scenarios where I get to watch his eyes do that again.
‘This is so worth it. Trust me to keep you safe,’ I whisper.
Jay nods and stays silent, his deep conker eyes communicating assent.
We take the path and scrabble through the undergrowth; a bramble catches my dress, causing us both to stop again as Jay untangles it. His hand close to my upper thigh as he gently separates spike from fabric.
I want to encourage him closer, to have him touch me for real there, feel his hand on my skin. Had it been any other man I would lean in and kiss him. In fact, any other man, and I would have leant in and kissed him a long time ago.
Instead, I thank him formally and then grip his hand again, keeping him safe, as we negotiate our way down this treacherous narrow path to the hidden spot that Kevin and I used to come and sit out on, high up and isolated from the rest of the world, staring over the River Avon, the traffic weaving along Parkway and across the bridge, inching towards the city.
Kevin and I had spent one night weaving glass candle holders all through the trees that overhung our hidden ledge as well as dotting them around the edges of the granite ridge where we sat. A fairy ring of lights. I don’t expect them to still be there but I’m excited to revisit the special place the two of us had created when we were both at our most bewildered, still trying to work out whowethought we were, whowewanted to be, instead of being defined by our parents, our schools, our culture.
As Jay and I break through the final bit of undergrowth we come to a halt on the stone ledge. Hewed into the cliff, it is the perfect place to watch the world go by, and high up in the gorge it provides a view that is impossible to find anywhere else in the city. I hear Jay’s intake of breath as we stop and he squeezes my hand. I look up at him with pleasure. I knew he would love this. And as he looks out and takes in the view, I catch sight of some of the glass jars still balanced on the stone.
Searching my bag, I find a lighter of Dan’s that I had meant to return. I break free of Jay to examine the glass jars. Inside are newish tealights and my heart is glad that someone is carrying on the tradition all these years later. I love Bristol precisely because of this sort of thing. I bend over and light them and, reaching up to the trees hanging over us, I see the glass lanterns still there as well.
With the candles lit, I take a seat next to Jay, who has removed his jacket and set it out on the stone to stop us getting cold as we sit with our backs against the cliff-face.
The candles twinkle at us through a mish-mash of green, yellow, blue, pink, red, orange, purple patterned panes of glass; the light reminiscent of heady Arabian nights. With the moonlight streaming through the trees that stretch overhead and the feel of Jay at my side I am utterly relaxed.
‘This place is amazing. You were right. It is worth risking life and limb for.’
I nudge him with indignation. ‘Life and limb, my arse. I told you you’d be safe with me.’
‘Hmmm,’ he says and I nestle into him again as I had earlier this evening but without the self-consciousness. He wraps his arm around me and I feel warm and safe and all sorts of meant-to-be. I am too happy in this moment to deconstruct that, determined to live in this moment, to enjoy these feelings.
‘So how did you find this place?’
‘Kevin and I were exploring one day soon after Freshers Week. We had just met and become completely inseparable. Two little lost souls.’
‘You were a lost soul? I find that hard to believe. You’re so polished, so sure of yourself.’
‘Oh, believe me, it wasn’t always like that,’ I say.
‘It wasn’t? I can picture a little Lily. I see you as one of those girls that always sat at the front and had her hand up?’
‘Um, definitely not. I mean I enjoyed infants and I was a bit of a swot but I never minded the rough and tumble with all the boys.’
He jiggles his eyebrows. ‘Uh-huh, as Jinx is so fond of telling me.’
‘No, no, not like that, you fool.’ I bat him lightly on the arm. I don’t want him to think of me as one of those precious princessy girls with their perfect hair, uncreased uniform and tendency to be absolute bitches the minute the teachers were out of sight. ‘I liked books, I liked learning, but I also liked to kick a ball about, get a bit grubby at playtime. I was a mud pie maker all the way.’
