‘Aha!’ He smirks. ‘You never did take me fishing,’ I point out.
‘I haven’t gone yet,’ he replies. ‘When do you want to go fishing?’
‘When are you next going?’
‘We could go Sunday, if you’re not at work?’
‘I’m supposed to be, but I’ll see if I can change my day off.’
‘It’s an early start.’
‘How early?’
‘We’d have to set off from the hills at four-thirty.’
‘Are you taking the piss?’
He chuckles. ‘Afraid not.’
‘Why so early? Are they vampire fish or something? Do they only come out at night?’
He glances at me sideways. ‘Want to give it a miss?’
‘No way. You promised.’
‘Okay, that’s that settled then.’
We sit and eat in silence for a while, staring out at the sky as it turns from yellowy-blue to pinky-orange. A couple of sunset stragglers wander past us towards the steps, their feet kicking up sand as they go. Ben screws up our empty fish and chip paper into a bundle. A cool breeze blows across us and I shiver. Ben takes off his light-blue long-sleeved shirt and hands it to me. He’s wearing a grey T-shirt underneath.
‘Thanks,’ I reply, accepting it gratefully. I slip it on, breathing in the scent of his musky deodorant. He doesn’t wear aftershave. I glance down at his tanned, toned arms and absentmindedly edge closer to him.
‘I hope you’re not cold now.’ I resist the urge to run my hand over his bicep.
‘I’m alright.’ He stares ahead at the ocean.
‘Hey, you haven’t seen any of my photos for a while.’
‘Do you have any on you?’ He looks at me with interest.
‘As a matter of fact, I do.’ I packed them all into my bag earlier. I’ve been meaning to show them to him for ages.
He slowly makes his way through the pack, commenting just like he did the first time. We come to the photo he took of me by the lily pond, way back in the beginning, before I fell for him.
He chuckles. ‘I like this one.’
‘It’s okay,’ I concede. My hair has fallen across my shoulders quite nicely and there’s a slight smile on my face as I reluctantly pose for the camera.
‘These are so good, Lily,’ he says seriously. ‘I really think you have a talent.’ I wriggle with embarrassment. ‘I do,’ he says fervently. ‘I hope you do something with it.’
‘Maybe I will,’ I reply.
‘Promise me you’ll keep up with the photography. And don’t forget your passion for animals, either. It’s not too late to train to be a vet, or even a keeper, if that’s what you want to do.’
I smile, warmth filling me up. ‘Maybe I’ll be a wildlife photographer.’ I flash him a cheeky grin.
He laughs. ‘That’d work!’
‘So which is your favourite?’ I nod down at the pack.
