It wasn’t pretty, but she clambered up onto her knees without tumbling off again. Groping for the uphaul rope, she made it to a standing position, her foot shoved in the front strap, without losing her balance, and then she was in the wind – strong and capable and alive with speed and movement. With a sizzle of adrenaline, she wondered how quickly she’d be able to afford her own foil.
Once she’d found her feet and made her way a little farther from the beach, she scanned the surf for a familiar figure, doing her best to ignore the shot of worry that her logic had been flawed and he wasn’t even here.
But then she caught a flash of a familiar moustache on a dark-haired man currently turning his board into a lively wave. He hopped neatly over it, getting a little air, fine-tuning his stance to maintain balance.
A grin pulling on her lips, she lifted a hand in a wild wave, growing wilder the longer it took for him to notice her.
‘Gabri!’ The wind stole the word from her mouth and still, he didn’t see her.
Painstakingly adjusting the angle of the foil, she attempted to head in his direction – and suddenly found herself hurtling much faster than she’d intended. When she was making straight for him at a speed she wasn’t comfortable with, he finally saw her.
‘Ehi, Toooonnii!’
She didn’t quite run into him, but he had to pull up quickly and then his foil was tipping into the water. In a panic, she hopped off her board after him, but he came up immediately, spluttering something about Jesus and the saints, shaking his hair out of his eyes, droplets in his moustache.
‘Cristo, it’scold! Why is it so cold?’
‘Welcome to the English Channel,’ she said, not quite managing to stifle a smile.
‘No wonder we call it the “sleeve” in Italian. You need long sleeves to swim here!’
‘I think it’s pretty mild today. I used to swim in winter occasionally. Maybe we could get into that this year,’ she said, thoughtfully tapping her chin.
‘You’re either very strong or out of your head.’ He paused, as though only just now appreciating that she was here in the water with him – making plans for the winter using the word ‘we’. ‘I know how strong you are.’
‘And I am a little out of my head,’ she said softly.
‘Really?’ His voice barely carried over the wind.
‘It seems like you are too.’
‘Oh, I am.’ His smile grew slowly, his blue eyes as wide as the horizon as he stared at her. ‘I’m quite lost.’
‘I’ve just found you,’ she pointed out.
‘So you have.’ He was closer now, one arm draped over his board. ‘I didn’t expect to see you.’
‘Gabri, you left a trail of clues for me to follow. Of course I’d find you.’
‘It wasn’t a trail of clues. I was trying to give you space.’
‘And time. I know. That’s what you told Ginny and Andreas.’
‘You’re quite a close-knit bunch at Great Heart and I Do,’ he commented.
‘Oh, Ginny can’t keep a secret at the best of times,’ Toni replied drily, although she wholeheartedly agreed with him. ‘You gave me a rosemary bush and a thistle instead of talking to me,’ she accused.
His eyes widened. ‘I didn’t think you?—’
‘You’re the one who said we should keep talking to each other.’
He considered his answer for a long moment, then licked his lips before replying, ‘Last time we talked, we didn’t get very far.’
‘I thought that too,’ she agreed softly. ‘But the rosemary bush… Were you trying to make me cry?’
‘Noooo,’ he said, his expression pained. ‘I mean, unless the crying was constructive. The thistle was for you – for us – but the rosemary bush is something else. It’s forhim– your husband. I wanted to pay my respects.’
Her blood rushed in her ears as she met his solemn gaze. ‘Why?’ she prompted.
