The Chapel Porth car park is already almost full, but a couple of surfers are just climbing into a van on the seafront so we luck out and drive straight in. Michael is busy directing the car in front of us and misses our arrival. He’s halfway down the other leg of the car park when we get out of the car, but we can see him in his red T-shirt and hi-vis jacket, directing a driver into a free space. He looks so in his element and I can’t help smiling as he gives the driver a thumbs-up along with a cheerful smile.
A canary-yellow Lotus convertible turns into the car park and Michael almost spontaneously combusts with excitement. As the driver pulls to a stop to await instruction, Michael lifts up his hand in a high five.
‘Oh myGod!’ Finn blurts with sudden outraged incredulity. ‘Look at how nice he is to total strangers! He usually treats me as though I’m something unpleasant he’s stepped on.’
I burst out laughing, but when I realise that, actually, I think he might genuinely be a little hurt, I reach out to squeeze his hand.
‘Aw,’ I say.
His hand remains limp and my stomach clenches as I relinquish the contact.
Michael has his back to us as we approach, but when he turns around and sees me, his face lights up. And then he looks past me to Finn and I expect his expression to morph into his typical repugnance, but it doesn’t. If anything, he looks brighter still.
‘Finn!’ he shouts, opening his arms for a hug, and my heart swells at the sight of Finn as he looks over Michael’s shoulder at me, all wide-eyed amazement and glee.
‘What are you doing here?’ Michael asks him as they break apart.
‘I was just taking your sister for brunch.’
‘Come and have a cup of tea!’
‘With you?’ Finn asks.
‘Yes, I can take my break now.’
‘Okay, if you’re sure.’
We sort out a parking ticket and then I go to the café to order while Michael insists on introducing Finn to his boss. They’re in the shelter by the café now, chatting, while I wait for our drinks to be prepared.
Finn looks different, and at first I couldn’t pinpoint why, but now I realise that he’s filled out a bit since last year. He’s twenty-seven, the same age as me, and he’s not a super-slim indie boy any more. But that’s not the only thing that’s changed about his appearance. When did he stop wearingratty T-shirts and second-hand clothing? He’s wearing black jeans and a pale blue T-shirt, but there’s nothing well worn about them. My heart squeezes and I turn back to the counter, readying my card to pay.
‘I got you a muffin,’ I tell Michael when I go over to them.
‘Thanks, baby sis!’ he replies chirpily. ‘You want some?’ he asks Finn.
‘Nah, I’m good, thanks. Don’t want to spoil my appetite.’
We sit there and talk until Michael has to return to work, and then we set off towards the beach so we can walk to Blue Bar. But I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong and I can’t imagine eating a single thing until I get to the bottom of it.
‘Finn, wait.’ I tug on his wrist as we’re passing his car.
‘What is it?’ He turns around.
‘I need you to tell me what’s going on.’
‘What do you mean?’ he asks warily.
‘Something’s changed. Between us. You’ve put walls up. Why?’
He stares at me for a moment and then his shoulders slowly drop.
‘It’s Brit, isn’t it?’
He bows his head, and when his eyes return to mine, they’re full of regret.
A wave of darkness crashes over me.
He pulls his keys out of his pocket and unlocks the door, indicating for me to climb back into his car.
