I stop, close my eyes, do some deep breathing. Concentrate on the background sound of the waves. Calm myself down. I am close to full-on sensory overload, and nothing good ever comes of that – it’s the time I’m most likely to run. This, of course, was the little secret that my mum and I shared – it’s not that we didn’t care enough to stay in one spot, it’s that we cared too much. We felt things too deeply.
I lean down and stroke Bear. He is real and soft and present, and he immediately makes me feel more grounded. Everyone should have a fat Labrador to help them stay grounded, they really are the perfect companion for the stressed, the strange and the slightly unsettled. He makes a contented snuffling noise as he roots around in my palm, probably checking for food.
‘What do you reckon, boy? Little walk along to the woods? Lots of stuff for you to pee on?’
He doesn’t disagree and follows me willingly around the edge of the green and back to the gate. I open it up for him to pass through, and wonder how Guy is getting on. I clearly left him at the beginning of an awkward conversation, disappearing off to start my own. Mine has gone… well, I think. Better than I expected. Probably better than I deserved. I hope his was just as productive, but I understand that I might never find out. I might never see him again. I have got used to the transient nature of relationships, the way we can briefly touch each other’s lives and then be gone. It’s part of the world I chose. Still, I hope it’s not true in this case – I felt a bit like I had an ally when he was around.
I switch the little torch on as we walk towards the woods, but I don’t really need it. It’s a clear night with an almost full moon, and these woods are still incredibly familiar to me. I feel safe here, bizarrely, even though it kind of looks like a scenefrom a scary movie – woman walking alone at night through the mysterious forest… I probably need to start running, and then trip over a tree root, and get attacked by a knife-wielding lunatic in a leprechaun mask… Leprechaun mask? Really? I laugh as I walk, still constantly amazed by the nonsense my mind serves up to me.
Bear ambles ahead a little, and I realise after a few moments that he’s heading right to my tree. My special magic tree that I used to climb with ease, and which now likes to take me prisoner. He gallops up the little hill and comes to a quivering stop at the base of the trunk. One of his sturdy legs raises, his tail goes up, and he lets out a single booming woof. I hope he hasn’t retrieved me a killer leprechaun.
‘What is it, boy?’ I ask, shining the little torch up into the branches. ‘Late night squirrel?’
I almost jump out of my skin when someone actually replies. ‘No. It’s me. Guy.’
My heart rate spikes, and Bear barks once more. I spot a face in the branches and laugh at the slightly guilty expression.
‘What are you doing up there? That’s my tree!’
‘I know. Squatters’ rights? Do you want to come up, or shall I come down?’
‘I think, based on earlier evidence, that you should come down. Or not. I don’t want to crowd you. If you need a bit of head space, I can testify that that tree is a really great place for it. I’m happy to walk on by.’
I secretly hope he comes down, because I really would like to know what happened after I left him in the pub. And because he is easy to be around in a way that nobody else here is – I barely know the man, and he definitely doesn’t come with any emotional baggage, and he has a very nice arse.
The last on the list has no right to be there, but it pops spontaneously into my mind as I watch him shimmy with easeout of his perch. He’s taller and stronger than me, and I let out a silent whistle as I admire him clambering to the ground. I meant it earlier when I said I was all talk – he is one hundred per cent safe, because romance is the very last thing on my current to-do list – but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy a bit of window shopping.
He stands in front of me, almost smiling as Bear nuzzles up to him for some affection. He crouches down so they’re on eye level, getting a sloppy lick on the face as he strokes the dog’s ears.
‘How did it go?’ I ask. ‘Your… uh, reunion?’
He thinks about it before he speaks, then replies: ‘As well as it could have, I suppose. I’m still here, anyway. You?’
‘Actually, pretty good. I am also still here. I get the feeling that wasn’t guaranteed for either of us, was it? We are what they call in the movies “a flight risk”!’
He nods, standing up, and this time he does actually smile – the tiniest flicker of lips moving upward, but definitely there.
‘We are. But I’m trying not to be. I’ve been running for a long time, and I’d like to stop for a while. I’m… tired, you know? I’m tired, and I’ve made mistakes, and I don’t want to keep making the same ones over and over again.’
I have no clue what his particular mistakes have been, but I very much understand the sentiment.
‘I get it, believe me. Where are you staying tonight?’ I ask. ‘At the inn? Or with your, uh, daughter?’
‘No to both. The inn is fully booked, and Miranda isn’t ready for that. I don’t even know where she lives, other than “in the village”. I have my tent, and it’s a warm night. Until you walked by I was starting to think I might actually sleep in that tree.’
‘I tried that when I was fifteen,’ I tell him. ‘It didn’t end well, and my right elbow has never been the same after that fall. Look, I think I’m going to walk through the woods back to my car. Iwas planning on leaving it, but there’s no way I’ll be able to sleep this early. Want to come with me, and see if it’s any use? I mean, there are plenty of fields around here, and someone in my family is bound to have some land where you can pitch if you like, but Bettina is cosy enough for one. Quite the little love shack in fact. Although you are a lot longer than me…’
My eyes drift down his jean-clad legs, and back up to his eyes. He’s looking at me curiously, one eyebrow raised. ‘Are you flirting with me again?’
‘I was just stating fact, but then I got distracted. Don’t worry.’
‘I’m not worried. Just checking.’
‘Okay then. Shall we walk? I can talk nonsense, and you can confound me with your monosyllabic responses?’
‘Sounds like a plan.’
Bear plods along slowly at our feet as we make our way along the path, occasionally giving me a look that says ‘Oi, stupid human, we’re going the wrong way – I’m supposed to be asleep by now!’
