The two of us walk a few feet away and settle on the grass. I pass Guy the coffee and lay open the box of pastries between us. He pounces on both like a wild animal.
‘Thank you,’ he says between sips and bites. ‘I can’t tell you how much I needed this! I’m so wrecked this morning I couldn’t even figure out how to boil water, and I’ve been reading the same page over and over again since I woke up.’
‘You should have had a lie-in!’
‘It’s hard to have a lie-in when you’re being constantly karate chopped in the throat and then hugged so hard it’s like you have a life-sucking limpet attached to your body. That child is unreal. He has more energy than the Duracell bunny, and sleep is his mortal enemy. He only drifted off a few hours ago. I think he realised he’d broken me.’
I laugh, picturing the scene. World traveller, former soldier, veteran aid worker Guy Keegan finally destroyed – by a two-year-old.
‘I think there are a lot of broken people knocking around the village this morning,’ I tell him. ‘It looks like there’s been a zombie apocalypse to be honest. Look, I wanted to talk to you about our conversation last night.’
It’s a sudden segue, I realise, but I don’t want to give myself the chance not to do this. It would be easy to do. He raises an eyebrow, his green eyes meeting mine. ‘You don’t have to. I know I caught you off balance.’
‘You did. You play your cards close to your chest, Guy, and all this time I’ve been flirting with you, I never imagined you might feel the same. And I do have to talk about it, because I care too much about you not to. I don’t want to fuck this up, to put it not very politely.’
I whisper the swear word, even though we’ve put some distance between us and the tent. I do not want to be responsible for teaching Evan his first profanity.
‘Really? Even after that time we, uh, got carried away? It was still a surprise that I was interested in you?’
‘Yes!’ I say enthusiastically, nodding so hard my ponytail flips around. ‘That was just a moment. And you rarely flirted back. And anyway, that happened just before I told you my up-the-duff news, and I assumed it was a one-off, just one of those weird things that often happen in tents! You know what tents are like – they’re dangerous places!’
He’s smirking slightly as I rant, and I take a deep breath to calm myself. ‘Anyway. So. Yes, it did surprise me, and I want to clear the air because if we don’t, we’ll get all weird around each other and that would totally suck. Who goes first?’
‘I think you’re on a roll. Here, have some pain au chocolat.’
I take it from his hand and devour it. He’s right. I am on a roll, and that takes calories.
‘Okay,’ I say, once I’m done. ‘So I like you a lot. We’re different but the same. I enjoy your company, and also you’venot exactly been hit by the ugly stick. But at this stage in my life, I’m not in a position to start something new. Not something casual, and not something serious. Just, not anything at all. In fact I’ve decided to become a born-again virgin. I don’t want to lose your friendship, and I’m worried that if we take this any further right now, then I will. I’m not good at relationships, and as you’ve said yourself, neither are you. We’d be like, disaster squared. To infinity. Times a million.’
‘That bad, you think?’
‘Possibly worse. So, I’d like to keep this platonic, and I’ll even stop flirting with you to prove it. That’s my piece, well and truly said. Your turn.’
He shrugs and simply says: ‘Okay.’
‘Okay? I give you my full speech, and all you’ve got is okay?’
He runs his hands through his hair and shakes his head. ‘Look, first of all I’m operating on maybe two hours sleep here. Secondly, I’m me, and talking about my feelings isn’t something I find easy. Last night, I was high on cave magic, and I said what I said without planning to. I don’t regret it, and I meant every word, but I also don’t want it to be a huge deal. I like you too. In fact, I more than like you. But I also completely understand what you’re saying, and you’re probably right. Hence, okay.’
Huh. That took the wind out of my sails. I’m not sure what I was expecting. Drama? An argument? Him begging to become my sex slave, or him telling me he never wants to see me ever again? None of that tracks with the kind of man Guy is, and it all says more about me than him.
I turn what he has actually said over in my mind and come to the conclusion that ‘okay’ is actually okay. We have both been honest, and although there is more that we could add, it wouldn’t change anything. It would just cloud an already complicated subject.
‘Okay,’ I tell him firmly. ‘Good talk. I’m not great at discussing my feelings either. I think people communicate way too much these days.’
‘I know, right?’ he replies, grinning. ‘So, have you given any thought to what you’re going to do when the baby arrives?’
‘Cry and have a nervous breakdown, I suspect. I was really unsure about coming back here, as you know, and it’s not been completely plain sailing – but it’s been better than I thought. I’ve been happier than I expected. Part of me wondered if I’d be here for a few days and then decide I couldn’t hack it, but here I am. Still here. It feels like a good place to have a baby, doesn’t it? Or am I just desperate for some kind of stability?’
‘No, you’re right. It does,’ he says. ‘It’s a beautiful place, full of kind souls. The way they took Miranda under their wing, looked after her and Evan… The people here are as much her family as I am, maybe even more so. You could do far worse than stay here. What about longer term?’
Longer term. For me, that’s never been a solid concept. Maybe when I was with David and expecting our twins. We’d talked about what we’d do, where we’d settle, what our future would look like. We’d even talked about coming back here, at least for a short time, so he could get to know my family. That was the last time I dared to imagine what long term might look like, and it did not end so well. Now, I am measuring time in the development of my baby – this week, he or she is the size of a peach, and is starting to hear. Next week, an avocado. It’s exciting stuff, and it’s measurable – I can look at a website and find out what is happening and what is due to happen. It is miraculous but reassuringly predictable.
I wish there was a similar website for my own life, because I don’t have huge amounts of clarity about that right now. I have ideas, but they’re not well formed – not even an avocado. Possibly a grape or a cherry.
‘I don’t really know, Guy,’ I reply. ‘The near future seems challenging enough really. I’ve spent years on the move, travelling, doing different things and meeting different people. The thought of standing still is an odd one, but not all together unappealing. I need to figure out what I’ll do to be useful though. If I stay, I have to be useful. I can help out in the village, do yoga classes and the like, but longer term I was thinking I’d maybe look at teacher training. Does that sound stupid?’
He thinks about it, and I realise I am keen to hear what he thinks. That I value his opinion so much that he is the only person I’ve even mentioned this idea to. It’s only half baked anyway, but I did enjoy working with children in India, and I do have a degree that I’ve never even used.
