My stomach churned as I stepped off the bus at Bournemouth square. It was only May and already the town centre was chaotic with weekend visitors meandering aimlessly. I glanced at the pub, just visible above the heads of the crowd before me. It wasn’t that far. My fingers wrapped around the strap of my handbag, which hung from my shoulder, and I lowered my gaze to the pavement ahead of me. I ploughed forward, sidestepping feet that veered towards me. I could do this.
I pulled open the door to the pub and stepped inside. It was still busy, but somehow it seemed a little less daunting today. I lingered in the doorway, contemplating where to sit, when a movement caught my eye. Adam was waving to me from the corner table where we’d met yesterday.
I headed towards him, slipping off my jacket as I walked, suddenly feeling flustered and warm.
‘You look amazing,’ Adam told me as his gaze travelled from my eyes to my toes and back again.
I laughed, and shuffled from one foot to the other. ‘Thank you,’ I mumbled as heat rose to my cheeks. I wasn’t someone who heard good things about myself very often.
He frowned. ‘Why do you laugh? It’s true.’
I shrugged. I was more accustomed to criticism than compliments. I didn’t know how to take them. Worse still, I didn’t even believe them. I was always sceptical. They were just words to say because he felt he ought to, because custom dictated it, not because he meant them.
‘Thank you,’ I repeated. What else could I say?
‘There’s nothing to thank me for. I’m just telling you the truth.’
‘You’re early,’ I said, changing the subject.
‘Even earlier than you, you mean.’ He tapped his watch with a laugh. ‘Something tells me neither of us will ever be late in this relationship.’ A pink glow crept into his cheeks. ‘I mean… Not that this is…’
I bit my lip and tried not to smile too broadly.
This relationship.
Is that how he thought of it? Of us?
We were only on our second date and he was already thinking in terms of a relationship. It had been a slip of the tongue. He hadn’t meant it, of course. It was too soon for that. But the fact he’d said it implied a possibility. A future.
‘Plus, I was here early enough to get us our table, before it got too busy,’ Adam continued.
Our table.
I smiled again as I slid into the chair opposite him. We had something that was ‘ours’. I liked that.
‘I got an orange juice for you, I hope that’s okay?’
‘Perfect, thank you.’ I nodded at the second glass of orange juice on the table. ‘No lager today?’
Adam shook his head. ‘Maybe later.’ He shrugged. ‘To be honest, I don’t drink that much, and I never touch the hard stuff. I’m such a lightweight.’
I lifted my glass. ‘Looks like you’re in good company here.’
He laughed, raised his glass and clinked it against mine. ‘I couldn’t agree more.’
We wandered down the stairs from the Odeon and out into the mild evening air.
We paused by the entrance. I waited for his goodbye. Would he hug me? Kiss me? Or maybe just walk away with a casual wave and a cheery goodnight like yesterday?
‘It’s still fairly early. Maybe we could go for a walk on the pier?’ Adam asked.
I smiled. ‘That would be nice.’
Nice? Was that all? I tried not to laugh as my heart pounded with excitement. Could he hear it? Could he hear the relief in my voice? The hope?
We wandered down the path beside the gardens in silence. The tourists still lingered, but somehow their presence didn’t bother me as much now. The crowds separated as we approached as though Adam somehow repelled them from our path.
I searched for something to say. Something interesting. Something funny.
My mind was blank.
‘What are you doing on Monday evening?’ Adam asked.
I hesitated. Did he want to see me again? I could tell him I didn’t have any plans. I didn’t have to have any. I could cancel them. For him.
‘I’m having dinner with my mum.’ The truth slipped out. I couldn’t cancel on her again. Not so soon.
‘And Tuesday night?’
The same.
I kept my mouth shut. He didn’t need to know we ate together every night. He didn’t need to know I had no other plans. ‘Nothing I can’t cancel.’
Adam grinned. ‘I’m glad.’
He reached for my hand, his fingers entwined around mine.
‘Are your parents not together?’
Every muscle in my body tensed.
‘It’s just you only said you were having dinner with your mum, not your parents.’
‘Oh.’ I let out a long deep breath. ‘Right, yes, it’s just Mum and me. It has been for a long time.’
‘And your dad?’
‘Left.’
Adam blinked at the abruptness of my tone. ‘I’m sorry.’
My stomach stirred. I didn’t want Adam’s pity. I didn’t deserve it. I shrugged as I tried to free myself from the weight that had descended upon me. ‘Like I said, it was a long time ago.’
‘But you’re close to your mum?’
His question startled me. Not because of the answer, but because it went without saying. It was just a fact. The way it was for everyone. Wasn’t it?
‘Aren’t you close to yours?’
‘Yeah, of course. But…’ He shrugged. ‘It’s just different, I guess.’
I turned to face him. ‘How?’
His shoulders lifted as he took a deep breath. ‘My parents haven’t always approved of my choices.’
‘Oh.’ My heart ached for him. There was something so unbearably sad for a child to be a disappointment to their parents.
Like I was to Dad.
I shivered, despite the warmth of the evening. I didn’t want to think about Dad. Not now. Not ever. He’d moved on and so had I. Or at least I was trying to.
But this wasn’t about us. This was about Adam.
‘I don’t blame them,’ Adam continued. ‘I haven’t always made the best decisions,’ he added quickly, as though he didn’t want me to think badly of them. ‘I tried to, I did. But sometimes, well, I guess, sometimes knowing something is wrong makes it much more tempting.’
I frowned, as I tried to follow his logic. ‘How can wrong be tempting?’ It didn’t make sense. If something was wrong, then you didn’t do it. There was no question about it. No appeal. No desire. Not even a choice. Just an obligation. An instinctive obedience.
‘It’s hard to explain.’ Adam shrugged. ‘Not that it matters now. It’s in the past.’ He smiled and winked at me. ‘The future is far more interesting.’
He leaned towards me slowly, as though giving me time to pull away. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. My feet were rooted to the spot. Waiting.
His lips touched mine, soft and warm. A thousand thoughts rushed through my head, but I couldn’t grasp any of them. I didn’t want to. All I wanted was this. All I wanted was him.
‘I’ve been trying to call you for hours.’
I pulled the phone away from my ear, softening the volume. Mum spoke as though she hadn’t seen me in days. The fact that I’d spent the morning with her, traipsing around store after store, searching for something she approved of, seemed to have been forgotten already.
My credit card had survived the trip unscathed. The only thing I’d bought was our lunch in a café before we’d given up. Our shopping sprees were always economical. Somehow we never found anything that suited me.
‘Sorry, Mum. I had my phone off in the cinema and forgot to turn it back on.’
‘The cinema?’
I cringed. She hadn’t needed to know where I’d been. Now I’d opened myself up for the questioning that would inevitably follow.
‘Who did you go to the cinema with?’
I rolled my eyes; and so it had begun.
I hesitated. I could lie. I could tell her I’d gone alone. The problem was it wouldn’t be believable. Not to her.
‘With Adam.’
There was a lingering pause and I wondered if she’d heard.
‘The plumber?’
I took a deep breath. ‘Yes.’
‘You saw him again? Already?’
I could hear the contempt in her tone.
I shook my head. It was just motherly concern, that was all.
‘That was too soon,’ she continued, seemingly not needing to wait for my confirmation. ‘He’ll know you’re desperate.’
He’ll know.
That was how she saw me. Desperate. She said it like it was a fact. That was what I was. Who I was.
‘We went to see a movie together. That hardly classes as desperate, Mum.’
I swallowed. Did it?
Mum scoffed. I hated that sound. It was full of condescension and disapproval. Her way of telling me I was wrong. I was being a fool. Again.
‘So, I suppose it’s serious, then?’
This relationship.
Adam’s words whirled around my head and I felt a funny little charge of electricity pass through me.
I hope so.
I caught myself smiling and tried to compose my emotions. It was too soon to be thinking like that, but still… The idea was appealing. There was something about him, something that made me want our dates to never end. He was different. He didn’t have flaws. Not like the others.
‘I’d better buy a hat then, had I?’
There was laughter in Mum’s voice. It wasn’t a real question. It was a taunt. She didn’t believe she’d need a hat, because she didn’t believe there’d be a wedding. Any wedding. Not for me. The mere idea of it was laughable.
I wanted to yell at her. I wanted to tell her how much her sarcasm hurt. But mostly I wanted to ask why she found it so funny.
I was a joke to my own mother. Not even she believed I could find someone who could love me.