‘Kiss Me’ by Sixpence None the Richer comes on the radio. I turn up the volume.
‘How old is your girlfriend?’ I ask suddenly. ‘I mean fiancée,’ I correct myself.
He stares out of the window, saying, ‘I hate that word.’
‘What word – fiancée?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Why?’
‘It sounds so . . . I don’t know – old.’
‘Yet here you are, getting married.’
He sighs. ‘Scary.’
‘So how old is she?’
‘Twenty-three.’
‘Only twenty-three?’ I’m surprised. She’s notthatmuch older than me! ‘What’s her name?’
He looks confused. ‘Charlotte.’
‘No, I mean her full name.’
‘Oh. Charlotte Turner.’
‘Does she really look like Kate Winslet?’
‘Hey?No.’ He brushes me off.
‘What colour is her hair?’
‘Er, brown. Or sort of dark-blonde.’
‘Curly?’
‘A bit. Come on now, eyes on the road, missy.’ He points ahead and turns the volume down on the stereo. ‘You need to concentrate.’
The sun is on its certain descent towards the horizon as we approach Henley Beach. Ben directs me into the car park, asking as he does so, ‘Do you want some fish and chips?’
‘Er, sure.’
‘I’ll get them,’ he tells me as I climb out of the car. ‘Meet you on the beach by the jetty.’
‘Do you want some money?’
He waves me away. ‘Of course not.’
I smile after him as he walks across the grass in the direction of some cafés, bars and restaurants. Ahead of me there’s a long wooden jetty stretching out over the pale-blue stillness of the water. I head down the steps to the beach and take off my shoes. The soft white sand is cool between my toes, having lost its heat from the sun an hour ago. I sit down and stare out at the ocean. It’s beautiful here. Ben joins me after a few minutes.
‘Here you go.’
‘Thanks.’ I take my bundle and unwrap it. The battered fish pieces are long and thin, unlike the cod I’d have back home. ‘What sort of fish is this?’
‘Whiting,’ he replies.
