Immediately, those words feel wrong. This does not feel like ‘just a holiday fling’.
‘Yes, but this isyoumoving on,’ Rach says earnestly, her eyes shining.
Her expression and tone are so unlike her that for a moment I feel as if I’m in a parallel universe.
The waiter interrupts to tell us that our table is ready and Tom and Dan appear around the corner with our drinks, so I take a seat, feeling very surreal.
Tom sits down opposite me and gives me a warm smile. Beneath the table, our knees knock together. Neither of us moves away.
After Amy and Rach’s reaction, I find myself paying more attention to the dynamics around the table. I notice Dan reaching forward to brush a crumb off Amy’s nose and how she doesn’t even flinch, and the way Rach draws infinity symbols on Ellie’s wrist when she thinks no one’s watching. I see the small displays of affection between them, the unrestrained love in their gazes.
Usually it hurts to watch my friends interacting so intimately with the people they want to spend the rest of their lives with, so I’ve tended to look away. But not tonight. Witnessing Amy and Rach’s joy at the idea that I’m moving on from Finn makes me realise even more acutely how much my heart has been on standby the last six years. I’ve never had ano-holds-barred, permanent, happy relationship with anyone. Looking at my friends, I realise I want one. Very much.
‘You were quiet tonight,’ Tom comments on our way home.
I should be over the moon. We won again, largely thanks to his knowledge of geography and random medical facts. It turns out his father was a doctor. Something else we have in common.
‘Contemplative,’ I reply, hooking my arm through his as we walk along the dark road cutting down through the steeply wooded valley.
The gesture is meant to be reassuring. I don’t want him to think I’m having second thoughts about us. I’ve slept in his bed for the last two nights and I’d like to make it a hat-trick.
‘Are you okay?’ he asks.
‘I’m good. I just had a bit on my mind.’
He falls silent.
Wales is not LA, I remind myself. What’s to say that this couldn’t be the start of something permanent?
We’re on the narrowest stretch and a car is approaching from behind us. I move over to the side to make room for it and feel Tom’s strong hands on my shoulders, using his own body as a shield.
My heart expands at the protective gesture.
No, it opens.
On Wednesday morning, we walk down to Seaglass together, having spent most of yesterday in each other’s company. I made a few noises about leaving him to his own devices, notwanting to overstep or encroach on the space that he’s paid good money for, but somehow we kept ending up back in each other’s arms.
He’s filling in today for our KP, who’s on holiday. When I double- and triple-checked he really was happy to help out, he replied, ‘When I say something, I tend to mean it. You don’t need to doubt me.’
I found that statement unbearably sexy. I love his straightforwardness, his steadiness. I could fall in love with a man like Tom.
‘It’s going to be funny being at work with you for the next week and a half,’ I muse with a smile as we walk up the external staircase.
‘Sleeping with the boss,’ he replies playfully. ‘Areyouall right with that?’ He leans his shoulder against the wall and watches me as I get my keys out.
‘More than. Although I probably won’t let on to the staff.’
‘I’ll try to keep my hands off you if anyone’s watching,’ he vows as I unlock the door.
I already know that I’m going to hate it.
He helps me get the place ready for customers and we finish up by pinning back the balcony doors.
It’s a sunny day with very little wind. The deep water of the sea beyond the cove is especially blue and the waves curling onto the shore are a pale crystal green.
Chas used to love the view on days like this. It’s when he could relax and really enjoy it. Whenever there was a swell, he’d want to be out there.
We were all so pleased for him when he finally decided to set off on the round-the-world trip he’s always dreamed of.But I miss him. And from the sounds of it, he’s missing us too. Last week, we received a postcard from him in Maui. He’s having a brilliant time, but he’s looking forward to coming back in August. Dan really had to persuade him to take a chunk of the summer off. June, July and August are always so brutal – we make pretty much all of our money for the whole year in those three months, so there was no way Chas would put his feet up if he was here.
