The vastness of the ocean never ceased to amaze her, the sounds of the water and the gulls, the chopping of the waves you could see as you got closer. Back in Dorset after all these years, she felt something lift inside her. Rather than thinking of everything she’d lost, she focused on what she had to gain from her trip. She would have time with her dad, time in England after so many years, time to get used to no longer having a fiancé and the future she thought they would share together. And she had time to find out what had happened to Howard and why he’d closed his beloved bookshop.
Despite the summer heat, walkers were out in force, some taking photographs of the panoramic views afforded from this point. It really was quite spectacular. Towering white cliffs wrapped around the arc-shaped cove, contrasting against the calm clear waters below. A couple of little kids raced past with a woman hot on their heels requesting they be careful. They reminded Faye of the excitement she’d felt coming down here as a kid with a tiny coloured net – and if it was low tide her and Steph had been able to investigate the rock pools, to see what creatures they could find. She had good memories of spending time with her sister and nothing would ever take those away.
She watched the paddleboarders in the sea heading across the bay and wondered how far they would go – perhaps all the way around to Durdle Door, a place she would visit today on her nice long exploration of a county she’d forgotten so much about. There were three kayakers on the tail of the paddleboarders, and she wondered how easy it was on the water today, or rather, how difficult. Both sports were vastly different on the ocean to a river, although the weather always played a part. She’d brought her swimming togs with her, or perhaps while she was in England she should think in more British terms. What was it they used to say? Swimming costume? She’d been away so long she could barely remember.
She pushed open the wooden gate to access the South West Coast Path. She followed the steep hill, absorbing the most beautiful and very different views to those she had in Queensland. Everything felt so… well, British!
She passed a milestone and snapped a photograph of the face of it, which showed how many miles to Durdle Door, to Ringstead, to Weymouth and to Minehead. She wondered how long the stone had been there.
Walking on, it felt good to move her body, get air into her lungs. Lulworth Cove was now behind her and ahead she could see Portland Bill marked out by the red and white lighthouse she had seen in one of Frank’s old photographs: him and Clare with the lighthouse in the background, their arms around one another, devoted to each other in a way perhaps she and Brad had never really been.
She had her first glimpse of Durdle Door but not much before she took the steep slope and then even steeper steps down to another Dorset gem, Man O’War Bay. The crescent-shaped bay with aquamarine waters was utterly breathtaking and when she finally stepped onto the sand and shingle beach and the wind whipped through her hair she tilted her face up to the September sunshine and turned around on the spot, arms outstretched.
She almost lost her balance, but only because a large inquisitive golden retriever decided she was more interesting than anyone else on the beach.
She bent down. ‘Hello you. Aren’t you beautiful?’
‘Careful, it’ll go to his head,’ came a voice from behind her.
When she turned, she couldn’t see the man until she wrestled her windswept hair out of the way. ‘What’s his name?’ she asked.
‘This is Midas. Midas!’ He groaned, because Midas had just put slobber on Faye’s denim shorts.
She laughed and fussed the dog around his head and his neck. ‘Well, Midas, if you weren’t so gorgeous I’d be annoyed right now.’ A tennis ball was clamped between his jaws, causing the slobber, and he looked at Faye, then at his master, before he dropped the ball.
The man picked it up and threw it far down the beach, further than Faye could’ve managed. He didn’t have to yell fetch or anything because Midas took off.
‘I’ll bet this is his happy place.’ Faye smiled. It was definitely hers. She had plenty of beaches to choose from in Queensland and was glad she’d come to Dorset where she could be near the water too. Anywhere else might have not felt like such an escape.
Midas was panting when he came back this time and dropped the ball.
When the man threw it again Faye asked, ‘Are you trying to wear him out?’
He laughed. ‘Something like that.’ And then he fixed Faye with a look that had her a little bit uneasy beneath his stare, not because she felt threatened, but because the guy was insanely attractive and if she wasn’t mistaken, looking at her like he had more to say.
She’d better go. ‘Well, it was nice to meet you…’
‘Theo,’ he said, extending a hand.
‘I’m Faye.’
‘Yes, you are.’
She hooked her hair behind her ear with both hands and held it there as the wind coming off the sea picked up again. ‘I’m sorry, have we met?’ He seemed familiar but that wasn’t possible – was it?
His eyebrows rose momentarily before he said, ‘Let’s just say I owe you some money for a haircut.’
Before she could reply, Midas charged over with the ball once again clamped in his jaw. He dropped it and Theo picked it up, lifted his arm ready to throw. But before he launched the ball into the air another ball from someone else sailed right past them and Midas charged after it alongside another dog who it was really meant for.
‘Midas!’ Theo growled, taking off after him.
Faye wandered along the beach, the water lapping gently against the shore, until Theo came back to her side with Midas who once again had his own ball.
‘You do seem familiar,’ she said to him. But he wasn’t Australian and she would’ve remembered a British client at the salon if he’d ever been over there to visit, especially one as handsome as he was.
‘I guess I’ve grown up a bit since we last saw each other.’
Still she couldn’t place him.
