Kit’s looking past my shoulder to the water, and his body tenses. ‘Shit, that was Shadow. I’d better go…’
As he streaks off down the pool I pull myself up onto the side, and call, ‘Try to bring him over to the steps. I’ll get towels and catch him as he comes out.’
Shadow jumping in High Tides’ best pool? It’s thrilling and appalling, funny and shocking all at the same time, depending who you are. What more is there to say than ‘Nice job, Shadow’? If I’d had to choose how to wind up our fake date, I couldn’t have come up with a better ending.
Now all I’ve got to do is work out how to face the rest of my life.
32
Nell’s house, St Aidan
All the pie
Monday
My first attempt at spontaneous, uninvited making out, and it ends with me standing poolside in my soaking underwear, while the unfortunate hero in question guides my admittedly very cute but very wet pet through the waves to safety.
I’ve learned from the experience – I won’t ever try it again.
Okay, I admit I took a video of them both – they looked too hilarious for me not to. Shadow, his black nose breaking the water surface, legs paddling as doggedly as if he were running through treacle, tail straight out behind him like a rudder, puffing bubbles from the side of his whiskers as he panted his way up the pool. Kit, also very cute, emerging from the shallow end in his underpants, as he coaxed Shadow towards where I was calling from the steps.
I’ve showed the video to all the gang, and they see the funny side too. And me viewing it a thousand times is due to the comedy, and nothing to do with Kit and how ripped his shiny wet torso is.
That wasn’t the end of the evening’s drama either. As we were making our way back along the dune, we finally caught sight of Mum and David down by the water’s edge, making their way back to High Tides for a nightcap at the hotel before Mum went home. A slight change of plan there then. At least Rye was around to confirm she’d left later.
So it wasn’t atotalwaste of time, and we know more now than we did. First, that however hard you screw up your eyes you can’t tell too much about people from a hundred yards away. Second, that people are spontaneously unpredictable – they rarely do what you expect, and they stick to their own plans even less than that. (I trynotto put that down to new lovers being all over the place.) And third, if we’re going to do this regularly, we’ll need to invest in a pair of binoculars or some night vision equipment.
As for the detail, my immediate agonies after what happened in the pool were eclipsed by drying a dripping dog. By the time he was fit to walk back to reception, we’d all moved on. Since then I’ve done three mornings at the studio and the same number of afternoon teas on the deck with Kit’s clients, and as neither of us has mentioned it again I’m assuming we never will.
Clemmie and I are at Nell’s house the followingMonday afternoon, and I’ve been filling them in on all the developments, except for my own blunder.
Nell’s on the sofa tucking into the third sausage sandwich from the bag that Clemmie brought round while small-George snoozes on her knee. She hands Shadow the last tiny piece and ruffles his ears. ‘Well done, boy! We’ve both made tidal waves at the High Tides hotel now.’ Her smile widens. ‘So are you going to spill the beans about the rest, Flossie?’
My blood runs cold, and I know I have to tough this out. ‘There arebeans?’
This is St Aidan, everyone knows about everything, mostly before it happens, so more fool me for thinking it could be any other way. Me jumping Kit will have spread across the whole of the county, if not the world, and now it’s out there, I’m never going to live it down.
Nell’s staring hard at me. ‘We all saw the video, butwhat kind of undies was he wearing?’
Clemmie laughs. ‘Pants can speak volumes about a man. Is Kit an organic bamboo guy, does he shop at Primark, or was therea label?’
Nell chortles. ‘Tesco ones are a great sign they know what a supermarket is.’
My accelerating heartbeats subside. As it sinks in that this is all they’re asking about, I can’t believe I’ve got away with it. ‘I may have spotted the words “Calvin Klein” on the waistband…’
Nell nods. ‘Stylish, yetnot quiteas up himself as a Ralph Lauren Polo wearer.’
Clemmie smiles. ‘Charlie likes Calvin Kleins too.’
Nell rolls her eyes. ‘Before grown-up George and I got together, his mum used to buy him his for Christmas and there’s no changing him now. M&S cotton boxers, with checks not stripes, and he doesn’t like red.’ She looks at me again. ‘What does Nate wear?’
I let out a shriek. ‘I don’t know, he’s my brother-in-law, not myhusband!’
Clemmie laughs. ‘He used to wear Paul Smith, but lately he’s been wearing Hamilton and Hare. It’s amazing what you find out at Mums and Bumps!’
Nell takes a handful of Wotsits from the family-size bag propped next to little George’s head. ‘With this feeding lark I could eat an elephant, so talk me through your plans for High Tides while I build up to my last sarnie.’
Rye and I spent an afternoon at Clemmie’s looking through her afternoon tea photo album and deciding on the best way to begin.
