Joe drove to the camera shop to collect the new lens for the posh camera his parents had given him last Christmas. Whilst taking snaps of the properties for the estate agent was all right, what he really loved was to go wandering with his camera down to the sea, or out into the woods and capture all the weird shapes, shadows and scenes only found in nature. As he opened the shop door, a Christmas song started playing on the tiny radio behind the counter. A small, depressed fake Christmas tree with stringy tinsel wrapped around the base stood next to the till where the owner, Ian, stood. ‘Hey Ian, how’s life with you?’
‘Not bad, Joe, thanks. You?’ He was tall and well-built with a thick black beard, like a gothy Father Christmas.
‘Yeah, all right. I’ve been busy this week. We had a couple of offers and a couple of lets. Not bad for this time of year.’ Joe unbuttoned his coat, adjusting to the warmth.
‘That’s good.’
‘You busy?’
‘Yes, mate.’ Ian nodded. ‘Very. Lots of Christmas orders.’
‘Speaking of which, has my order come in yet?’ Joe loosened his scarf too.
‘Yep. Hang on.’ He disappeared into the back of the shop and returned with a box with Holloway written on it in thick black pen.
‘Fantastic. It’s a new lens for my camera. I can’t wait to get out into the woods with this. There’s this great twisted tree I want to capture.’
The bell sounded behind him and Joe turned to see Esme with a bright red coat tied at the waist emphasising her hourglass figure. She had a bit more colour in her cheeks now and under her hat he could see her wild messy hair. He inspected a nearby shelf, remembering their conversation by the fire and the feelings it had started within him, and how he’d secretly fancied her at school. Back then she hadn’t noticed him, of course. She and that friend of hers – what was her name? Lola? – were always scheming and giggling like teenage girls do. She’d been out of his league then and she still was now.
‘Hello,’ said Esme, walking to the counter. ‘Have you got an order for Kendrick?’ She turned to Joe. ‘Hi. What are you doing here? Christmas shopping?’
Joe felt himself grow hot and hoped it was the lack of air conditioning. ‘I, umm, I just bought a new camera. Well, a lens, anyway.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah. Photography’s a bit of a passion of mine.’
‘I didn’t know that.’ She smiled.
‘What about you?’ asked Joe.
‘I bought a camera for my computer.’
‘Oh, right.’ His brow furrowed, confused as to why she needed one.
‘I’ll be making videos of recipes and teaching people how to cook. I’m going to post them online.’
‘That’s awesome,’ replied Joe. He was excited for her but again found himself shocked by how she seemed to grab at life and not let it slow her down. He glanced at her face. It gave the impression of other-worldliness, and he felt something he hadn’t in a long while – a kind of hopefulness. Esme radiated positivity and energy, and some of it had seeped into his soul. He wondered if she knew the effect she had on other people. The way she lit up a room with her laugh and her smile, the way she never judged. Esme glanced around the store and Joe shuffled his feet.
‘I hope he’s got it,’ she said, beginning to worry. ‘I ordered it on Monday and he said it would be here by Friday.’
Joe leaned in and whispered, ‘I’m sure he has. It’s just that his filing system’s quite chaotic.’
She giggled. ‘I meant to ask, is the King’s Head still going?’
Joe nodded. ‘Yeah. Surprising, I know. It doesn’t serve underage drinkers anymore though.’
‘Like we were, you mean? I think you’ll find I never did anything like that.’
‘Oh, I know, I’d never cast aspersions on your good character. I only went because we could play pool.’
‘I don’t think anyone will think I’m underage anymore,’ Esme replied. ‘I can’t remember the last time I was ID’d. Sometimes I think about asking them to do it just to make me feel better.’
Joe laughed but bit back the compliment floating on the tip of his tongue.
They fell into an uncomfortable silence and after a moment Esme broke it by taking off her hat and saying, ‘Do you know about cameras and stuff as well as houses then?’
‘Sort of.’ He moved his box from under one arm to another. ‘I’m not an expert.’
Esme face was thoughtful, considering something. ‘Listen, do you fancy a quick drink and helping me with which leads plug in where? I’m not very good with tech.’
Joe hesitated at the prospect of spending real time with someone. Time that involved talking and connecting. Clara was there again, drifting about in his mind, and he pushed the memory of her away. He was much better at no strings, but the look in Esme’s gentle eyes pierced his heart. ‘That’d be nice. Sure. The King’s Head is just down the road, shall we go there? I’ve only got an hour though – I’m on my lunch break.’
Ian emerged with the parcel and Esme collected her order. Joe held the door for her and they made their way outside. It was raining when they left the shop and the sky had darkened to a sheet of bleak, steel-grey. They walked down the high street to the pub and passed the giant Christmas tree in the centre of town. A large star had been placed on top and strings of lights were haphazardly wrapped around. Children gazed up at it, holding their parents’ hands and pointing to the top. Underneath, fake presents wrapped in bright red paper were piled on top of each other. A Salvation Army band were lined up beside it playing traditional Christmas carols and Joe saw Esme wonder at the scene before them. As the rain beat down, tapping their skin, they quickened their pace until they were safe and dry inside.
Joe took off his coat and lay it over his arm then took Esme’s for her. She brushed the rain from her hair. ‘What would you like?’ he asked as they approached the bar.
‘I’ll have a cola, please. I’m going for a run later.’
‘In this?’ Joe peered out of the window and as Esme stood next to him, he could smell her coconut conditioner again.
‘Yeah, it helps clear my head. I’ll just wrap up.’
Joe turned to the barman and ordered two cokes while Esme found them a table. More and more people came in out of the rain, and Joe had to navigate through them with the drinks in his hands. Amongst the rising voices he could make out Nineties music he remembered from his youth playing in the background. It was a nice change from Christmas songs. He never looked forward to Christmas anymore and these days Christmas songs brought him down rather than lifting his spirits. Joe placed their drinks down on the table. ‘So, what made you decide to start a blog?’
Esme combed her fingers through her hair. ‘It’s a long story.’
‘Oh, okay. Sorry. Did you want to talk about something else?’
‘I don’t mind,’ she replied, with a gentle shrug. ‘It is what it is. Basically, I got fired from my job because my boss didn’t believe me when I told her someone had stolen one of my recipes and was pitching it as their own.’
‘What?’ asked Joe, his coke held in mid-air. ‘Someone stole your recipe and you’re the one who got fired? That’s outrageous.’
‘I know.’ She nodded, her eyes wide. ‘Then, because I didn’t have any proof, she wanted me to apologise. I refused, so she sacked me.’
Joe stared, then let out a great loud chortle. Shocked, Esme sat still and she felt her cheeks redden. ‘Sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you. It’s just, that’s the most awesome thing I’ve ever heard. You’re incredibly brave sticking to your guns like that. Not many people would.’
When Esme relaxed and grinned at him, his stomach fluttered. ‘Do you think so?’
‘I do. I think it’s awesome.’
They took a sip of their drinks in companionable silence.
‘So, you’re a secret photographer?’ Esme asked.
‘Amateur photographer,’ he corrected, gently. ‘Secret makes me sound shady. But, yeah.’ He noticed what a pretty shade of pink her lips were.
‘What sort of things do you take pictures of?’
‘Nature mostly.’
Esme smirked.
‘Not like pervy nature, I don’t sneak around taking photos of naked women, if that’s what you think.’
‘It hadn’t crossed my mind, actually, but now you’ve said it …’
Joe laughed. ‘I like scenery and animals and stuff. I like capturing the world where it’s been left alone by civilisation and technology. Where it’s truly wild.’
‘That sounds great. Do you think you could do some snaps of food for my blog one day? I’ve tried but I’m not very good.’
‘I’d love to,’ replied Joe, as the rain battered against the windows. He was enjoying her company. That hadn’t happened in a while. There were women but they didn’t meant anything. Sex was just a release and he was flattered by being wanted. There hadn’t been much talking involved. He was enjoying talking and laughing with Esme. Suddenly, he found himself wanting this meeting to last and said, ‘Do you fancy a bite to eat as we’re here? I’m sure it won’t be as good as anything you could cook, but as it’s so bad outside …’
When Esme hesitated, Joe worried he’d gone too far but then she smiled. ‘That’d be nice, but only if your girlfriend won’t mind.’
‘Girlfriend?’ Taken aback by the question, Joe’s brow crinkled.
‘Oh, it’s just I was in the pub Friday night and I saw you with … someone.’
Joe felt a flush of heat rise up from the back of his neck. It wasn’t just embarrassment, it was shame. He’d never before really cared about his reputation and the consequences of his actions. He’d never needed to think of anyone else or think about a future where anyone might care. But now, here with Esme, he did. ‘She was just a friend,’ he said quickly, and swallowed down the lump in his throat. He grabbed the menu wanting to order before Esme changed her mind and, as he hid behind it, he realised that it was the first day he hadn’t felt the heavy great shadow darkening his life.
*
The rain eased off and Esme walked back from the pub in the afternoon wind. Joe had offered a lift, but Esme wanted to walk. To lift her head and look around her, to see the countryside with new eyes. Dark grey clouds clustered overhead and the wind was cold on her face. She’d always thought that being home, back in pokey little Sandchester, where she’d spent her teenage years longing to escape, she would feel trapped. But as she walked along the country lane surrounded by fields, breathing in the fresh air and enjoying the coldness on her skin, it was turning out to be the opposite. She felt free. Freer than she ever had in London. There she was trapped by a boring working week, by the crowded tube, by the constant attempts to get home and inevitable delays, and most of all, by the expectation to do everything. To cook, to clean, to keep herself in shape, to keep herself as polished as possible so she was the same as the elegant, chic London women. They weren’t all Leo’s expectations, to be fair. There was just a general expectation to be a grown-up and have her shit together all the time.
If she’d sat around the flat in the clothes she sat around in these days, Leo would’ve disapproved. He wouldn’t have said anything. Not straightaway. He’d have given her half an hour, then started making comments about people popping round and what they might think if she looked like that. Now she came to think of it, life with Leo had been exhausting, but she’d been too wrapped up in perfect London living to notice.
Was she happy it had ended the way it did? No, not really. It could have been a lot easier if it had happened at a different time, if he hadn’t so quickly moved onto someone else, or moved them in. Dirtbag. Lousy Leo would be his name from now on. Esme smiled at the thought.
And now there was Joe back in her life and he was … confusing. In a lot of ways he was nice and kind – not at all what she thought he’d be. The bad boy from school who all the girls mooned after was much more introverted than she’d expected. He’d said he’d moved back from Australia after a break-up, but was that all there was to it? He’d seemed so vulnerable when he’d talked about it briefly during the viewings and later by the fire. He must have loved this woman a lot. But then Esme had seen him the other night in the pub and it didn’t take a great deal of imagination to know what had happened after they’d left. He’d said it was just a friend but she didn’t treat her friends like that. It was obviously a ‘special’ friend. And yet, lunch had been fun. They’d chatted and she’d seen flashes of his personality. She shook her head. She really couldn’t figure him out.
Esme walked down the winding lane to the cottage and watched the fields and hedges swaying in the wind. The late afternoon sun cast strange shadows through the leafless trees but they didn’t frighten her, she enjoyed them. Esme took a deep breath. There was nothing to fear here, she was safe and at home. As she unlocked the front door and took off her coat, she glanced at the kitchen, and her grandma’s notebook, picturing which recipe she would make next.