The next morning passes peacefully. They’re all tired, and Isaac can see that his mum, Tommy and Peter are in need of some time off, so he and Polly disengage the awning with some difficulty and take Reggie into the nearest town to stock up on food. The motorhome rumbles along the lanes picking up even more dust and tiny flies on its windscreen and Reggie hums quietly to himself as they pass lush green fields and woodland paths that wind away temptingly.
Shopping with Polly is unlike anything Isaac has ever experienced. Used to hurrying so that Reggie doesn’t get bored, Polly completes the job at top speed but still attempts to read all the labels.
‘It’s difficult enough making sure I get the right stuff for Reggie when the contents are in English, let alone French,’ she says despairingly, throwing a packet of porridge oats into the trolley.
‘Surely cereal’s the same wherever you are?’
‘It’s okay for you to be so blasé, Isaac, but I’m completely responsible for this small person. I’ve got to get it right.’
Isaac starts to formulate his next question, which is going to be about why she’s doing the job all alone, but Polly’s already heading for the checkout. Never mind. There’ll be time to find out more later, with luck. They drive back in companionable silence, with all the windows open and the warm breeze blowing Polly’s hair around crazily. Her eyes are closed and she looks more relaxed than Isaac’s ever seen her. Smiling across at her, Isaac is suddenly glad that he didn’t pry. What does the past matter? She’s here now, with him. He must try his best to get this right.
Later, when they’ve had lunch, Lucia announces that she’s still shattered and she’s going to have an hour reading in the shade. ‘And if I were you, Poll, I’d put Reggie down in his cot for a sleep too. I’ll keep an eye on him. Then you two can go off and explore if you like?’
Would Isaac like? Is she kidding? He sneaks a look at Polly to try and guess if she wants to be with him or not but she’s busy lacing her trainers more tightly. It seems to take her ages. When she finally looks up, she’s pink in the face. Must be because she’s been bending down.
‘D’you want to go for a walk with me, Isaac?’ she says.
He shrugs, worried about scaring her off by shouting ‘YES! I bloody do!’ She looks a bit crestfallen when there’s no immediate reply and Lucia steps in.
‘Of course he does,’ she says. ‘Isaac, you really do need to work on your manners.’
Isaac’s not sure what she means but he has another go. ‘Yes please, that’d be great,’ he says, and relief floods his whole body making him tingle all over as Polly smiles up at him.
Ten minutes later, Reggie’s snuggled down in his travel cot talking to his fluffy blanket and Polly’s at Isaac’s side walking towards the gap in the dunes.
‘Which way do you want to go?’ she says. ‘Left or right?’
He’d like to say anywhere with you would be the most amazing place ever, but he thinks that might sound a bit cheesy, so he suggests they make their way towards a row of tall pine trees in the far distance.
They take their trainers off and tie their shoelaces together so they can string them around their necks. The sand is cool and firm under Isaac’s bare feet and the sun’s shining again. He can’t remember ever feeling this happy in his entire life, even when he was very young. The sun is warm on his face, the sound of the gulls is emotive and the urge to make a sandcastle is strong. It would be like the ones he made in his sand pit at home after a long day at school. The feeling of relief at being safely home again was always wonderful.
‘Did you like being at school?’ he asks Polly, following his own train of thought.
She looks surprised and doesn’t answer straight away. ‘Erm … not much,’ she says eventually. ‘Did you?’
‘No, I hated it.’
‘Why?’
‘I just didn’t seem to be able to find any real friends.’
Isaac feels her slip her hand into his. He looks down, terrified of spoiling this perfection. ‘You haven’t got many friends even now, have you?’ she asks.
He thinks about this for a moment. He knows it’s true, but it’s kind of embarrassing to admit it all the same. It’s no good. His mind’s gone blank.
‘Did you not make any friends at uni? You were at Leeds, weren’t you?’
‘Who told you that?’
‘Your mum. Why, is it a secret?’
They’ve reached a low sand bank now and stop to take in the view. The beach stretches out to either side of them. He can feel tiny shells between his toes and smell the wild, joyful aroma of salt and seaweed. There is nobody else in sight.
Acting on impulse for once in his life, Isaac lifts Polly’s hand to his lips and kisses the palm of it, then turns it over and kisses each knuckle. He’s never done anything remotely like this before and it feels as if it’s happening in slow motion and they’re in a film, the camera panning in to focus on Polly’s small pink fingernails, bitten to the quick. He drops her hand, feeling foolish. She’s standing very still, and he thinks she’s holding her breath.
‘Isaac,’ she whispers, and wraps her arms around his waist. He holds her close, the rose-petal scent of her hair making him giddy. She fits just underneath his chin, as if she belongs there. They stay like that for what seems like a long time but probably isn’t. Isaac doesn’t look at his watch to see because he’s pretty sure that would be a bad idea.
She moves away slightly to look up and Isaac wonders what he should do next. Should he kiss her properly? Does she want him to? Her eyes seem to be saying she wouldn’t mind, so he bends and brushes his lips against hers, gently at first as a try-out. She seems to be enjoying it, so Isaac gives up any idea of knowing what to do for the best and just goes for it. They cling together and kiss for so long that he thinks he might fly right up into the sky like a balloon full of helium.
Finally, they break apart and blink at each other, smiling. That’s when it all goes wrong. ‘I love you,’ Isaac says, before he can stop himself. Polly flinches.
‘No, you don’t,’ she says. ‘And you shouldn’t say things like that if you don’t mean them.’
‘But I do mean it,’ Isaac stammers, ‘I …’
‘You don’t really know me so how can you say you love me?’ They stare at each other. Isaac has no idea what to do next.
‘What if I want to get to know you better, then?’ he asks after a while. ‘Can’t we make a start today?’
Polly’s eyes are flashing fire now. Isaac flinches. What did he do wrong this time?
‘It’s not as simple as that. There’s so much you don’t understand about me, Isaac,’ she says, ‘and I haven’t got the slightest idea where we should begin.’
‘Pretend I didn’t say anything for now, if you like, Poll. Let’s go and look at those trees first and we might do the serious stuff later,’ Isaac says, and he can tell he’s said the right thing this time by the way the tension leaves her shoulders and her eyes light up. There’s a lot in this body language business, he tells himself, glad he’s been making the effort to watch people more carefully to judge their feelings. It’s hard work and you can’t always tell, but it’s getting a bit easier. Just a little bit.
They hold hands again as they walk along the beach and it feels even more natural this time. Maybe they’re already learning about each other? Isaac hopes so with all his heart. When they reach the edge of the pine forest, he leads Polly into the shelter of the towering branches, one step at a time and her fingers grip his more tightly. This is turning out to be absolutely the best day of Isaac’s life.