‘Not good,’ I admit.
‘I’ll go and see him,’ he decides. ‘Where are you going now?’
‘Back to Mum’s.’
‘Okay.’ Sadness fills his features as he places his hand on my arm. ‘Take care, alright?’
I nod hurriedly. ‘When are you leaving, you and Lucy?’
‘In a few weeks. We’ll see him right before then.’
‘Thank you,’ I whisper and turn away.
I’ll miss Nathan. I’ll miss Sam, Molly and Mikey. And I’ll miss Lucy. I’ll miss them all. Am I doing the right thing?Ben. . . Thoughts and memories of him rush through my head, almost as though I’m watching a movie on fast-forward.
He’s looking through my very first set of photos as we sit on the grass beside the lily pond.
He’s gently taking the injured joey from me, pressing his warm arms against mine.
He’s staring into my eyes across a table and I want to kiss him so much it hurts.
Enough. I want to be with him and I want to be with him now.
My heart lifts as I spot a public telephone box up ahead. Of course I know his number from memory. I committed it there along with everything else related to him.
He answers on the third ring.
‘It’s me,’ I say.
‘Lily!’
‘Are you at home?’
‘No, I’m on the yacht.’
‘I’m coming to see you.’
‘Do you need a lift?’
‘No. There’s a taxi right here.’ I flag one down as it’s passing.
‘Do you remember where I’m moored?’
‘Of course.’
It starts to pelt down with rain as I climb into the taxi. ‘Jeez, you’re a bit lucky,’ the driver exclaims. ‘Where are you going?’
I tell him and then settle back to stare out of the window.
The wind almost knocks me off my feet as I climb out of the taxi, dragging my bag with me. The rain soaks me through in an instant as I run towards Ben’s yacht. There’s a light on inside the cabin. I lean over and knock on one of the tiny windows and the cabin door bursts open, and then his arms are around my waist as he lifts me and my bag onto the boat. He hurries me down below and shuts the door against the storm.
‘You’re soaking!’ he exclaims, his hands on my face and his fingers in my hair.
‘So are you.’ The rain is still running down his face and onto his T-shirt. His arms are wet.
‘Are you okay? What’s happened?’ His eyes search mine for any clues and then he releases his grip on me and steps away to give me space. He glances down at my bag on the floor and suddenly we’re staring at each other again and I know he understands.
I lift up my hand to touch his face. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do, but have never been able to. The stubble under my fingers is rough. He stares back at me with blue, blue eyes as my thumb touches his lips. The rain pelts down hard from outside and the boat rocks to and fro in the harbour. I step forward and then I’m in his arms and tilting my head up and he’s kissing me gently, as though he’s afraid I might break or dissolve or disappear into dust.
