When we arrive back at the cottage I shower and change, leaving Nic in the sitting room leafing through his books.
When I reappear, he looks up from the sofa and his eyes sweep over me appreciatively. I almost wish we weren’t going out.
‘You look good.’
The words are irrelevant, because his eyes say it all very clearly indeed.
‘Come on, we’re heading back up to the farm so we can catch a lift to the pub.’
I look at him enquiringly.
‘I thought I’d have a pint and I don’t drink and drive.’
He stands, walking over to the bookshelves to return the volume he was reading when I came in.
‘Great collection, quite diverse.’ I decide to dive in and clear up a little question hovering in the back of my mind. ‘A few surprises in there. I understand all the books on photography now. But The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks? I don’t think anyone can read that and have a dry eye.’
The moment I finish talking, I realise I’ve touched a nerve, but he doesn’t look angry, only sad.
‘Not all of these books are mine; a few were here originally, when I moved in.’
He looks uncomfortable and I wonder if it belonged to a previous girlfriend. I guess that’s a little mystery that will remain unsolved. Besides, it’s none of my business, anyway.
‘Shall I fetch your coat?’
As Nic heads off to the bathroom I put on my shoes and grab my bag. When he returns he’s all smiles and on the way to the farm we pass the time talking about the barn dance. He tells me some funny stories about a few of the people there, the sort that you couldn’t miss spotting even in such a large crowd. I’ll probably never cross paths again with the vast majority of them during the remainder of my visit, but I am beginning to pick up on how supportive people are in this tight little community. I’ve not been made to feel like a tourist passing through, but it’s as if I’ve been adopted and given a temporary citizenship.
‘Olwen sings your praises. I think she was sad to see Beach View Cottage deteriorating, so in her book you are a hero.’
Nic parks the car up behind the barn where the dance was held. As we head back down to the farmhouse I have a thought.
‘Is it far? Could we walk to the pub?’
‘It’s about a mile-and-a-half, tops, I suppose. Are you up for that?’
‘I spend too much time sitting down in front of a computer screen, so any exercise is always welcome.’
‘I’ll take you the scenic route, rather than along the main road. It isn’t muddy, it’s a gravel path and well-trodden.’
‘I’m really surprised there aren’t more signs around to make it clear what is private property and what isn’t. I suspect a lot of visitors to the area won’t be experienced walkers and it must be annoying to have people wandering around on your land as if they have a right to be there.’
Nic nods in agreement.
‘Actually, I wish I didn’t own the woods around the cottage. It’s a bit of a liability at times. Even woodland needs managing and I have to regularly inspect the trees up near the road, especially after high winds. If something falls on a passing car, or a person is injured, then I suppose I might be held liable if it’s down to poor management. But it was part and parcel of the deal.’
Well, the surprises keep on coming. He doesn’t just own the cottage, but the woods around it too. As we walk, Nic tells me a little more about the surrounding area. Behind the bay is the Bishop’s Wood nature reserve and it’s a rare example of a limestone woodland. He goes on to tell me the legend of the local murder mystery case that took forty years to solve. A married couple disappeared without warning shortly before Christmas 1919. In November 1961, a bag of human bones was discovered in a disused local mine; they were proven to be those of the wife. After an extensive manhunt, the husband’s body was traced to a cemetery in Bristol, some eighty miles away. He’d died almost three years before the discovery.
‘I wonder what really happened. It sounds to me as if they made a few assumptions there. Anyway, thanks for sharing that, Nic.’ If I sound a little jaded it’s because as the light begins to fade a little, the trees take on an eerie quality. I’m definitely feeling spooked, as the shadows seem to close in around us.
Nic’s news about the break-in at the farm has unsettled me and maybe for good reason, following on from what I’ve read in the local paper. Every night before I go to bed I stare out, combing the trees and second guessing every shadow. I shake off the uneasiness that I can’t help feeling but this isn’t really helping to allay my fears tonight. Every sound has me scanning around imagining that someone is following us.
‘I thought you’d appreciate it, being a journalist. The crime levels here were almost non–existent until this latest little spate. Nowadays, everyone knows everybody’s business, aside from their own and there is an upside to that neighbourly nosiness, I suppose.’
Well, Rhys and Olwen know about us now and there’s nothing to be done about that but the burglaries are worrying. The farm is nowhere near as isolated as Nic’s cottage and whoever broke in must have had to wait for just the right moment.
‘We’re approaching the Trawlerman’s Inn. You can just see the lights ahead of us.’ He squeezes my hand reassuringly.
‘Look, I didn’t mean to spook you and I’m sorry if I did.’ Nic sounds genuinely apologetic, realising the setting isn’t helping at all.
I’d smile, but in the gloom there’s no point, all he would see are my teeth.
Inside the pub there’s a fire spitting in the hearth as the wood sizzles and hisses, welcoming us in. It’s not cold, but there is a nip in the air tonight even though it’s the second of June.
We find a nice little table for two tucked away in a corner and make ourselves comfortable.
‘That wasn’t the most enchanting walk at this time of the night, but this place is great.’
‘I knew you were spooked; wish I hadn’t told you that story now.’
‘I don’t like loose ends, or not knowing all of the details. It’s the way my mind works. As you work for the local paper you’ll know all about that.’
‘Well, let’s order and then I’ll tell you all about my budding career as a journo.’ He gives me a cheesy grin, clearly laughing at himself.
We decide to go for the good old-fashioned fish and chips, with half a pint of local ale. It seems to be what the majority of people around us are ordering and so it must be good.
When Nic comes back from placing our order at the bar, I lean into him as he slides a glass of something he calls Gower Gold, in front of me.
‘You do know everyone is watching us, don’t you?’
He nods, then turns and raises his hand in the air, rather like a royal wave.
‘Hey guys, sorry, forgot to say this is Tia. And yes, she’s the one renting my cottage.’
Virtually everyone raises their glasses in the air. A chorus of welcome has me laughing out loud. I half-stand and raise my glass in the air to return the toast. Then I sink back down onto the bench seat, wishing I could disappear.
‘Nic, I can’t believe you did that. We’re being talked about now.’
‘It’s my local and everyone knows me. Quite a few will already know you from the barn dance, or seeing you out walking. If people know your face they look out for you and that’s a good thing. Besides, my credibility here has just escalated. It’s obvious we’re on a date and now I’m going to lean forward and kiss you.’ And he does just that, then draws slowly away from me with a playful smile on his face.
‘The job at the paper is something unexpected that came my way. I’d finished the bulk of the work on the cottage and I’d been taking a few photos that I thought the paper might like to use. The editor, Gareth, asked if I’d be interest in doing a bit of work here and there. Sometimes it’s taking photos, particularly in the summer when there are sandcastle competitions down on the beach. Other times it’s checking out a lead he might get: missing animals, the occasional burglary, uproar over litter appearing overnight in the car parks. I cover some of the summer events, that sort of thing. It’s another source of income and something I enjoy doing.’
The food arrives and it smells amazing. The batter on the fish is golden and the chips are triple cooked.
‘British cuisine at its best,’ Nic says. He leans in and whispers, ‘as long as you aren’t calorie counting or worried about your cholesterol. But this is the best you’ll find anywhere in the country.’
He’s right and I second that. It’s a very pleasant evening and when we leave we receive a ripple of goodbyes as we head for the door. I try to remain composed and dignified, with a nonchalant smile plastered over my face.
‘You fit in well here, Nic. All credit to you as it’s a different world to the London scene.’
‘Shall I phone for a taxi, or are you prepared to brave the dark? I promise not to move from your side, or to let go of your hand. I’m a black belt in judo so any trouble and you can simply stand back. In mere seconds, I’ll have any attacker disabled and on the floor.’
I start laughing as I zip up my jacket. But it is eerie, that I can’t deny. Nic stands in front of me, sliding his hands down my arms until he catches both of my hands in his. The contact sends a little tingle up my spine. In the warm glow of the car park lighting his face is animated and there’s a spark of life, where before there was a sense of dogged resignation. As if life had punched him once too often and he was only hanging on by a thread.
‘Are you? A black belt in judo?’
‘Ha, now I know you are gullible, as well.’
‘As well as what?’
‘Beautiful, warm and intelligent. There has to be a catch somewhere and I’ll find it. Now let’s start walking.’
We link arms and a little smile hovers around my mouth. I haven’t linked arms with anyone since the last time Mum and I were out walking together. We walk, and chat, and stop to kiss, then walk some more and before we know it Beach View Cottage looms up before us. It’s bathed in a little pool of light.
‘You turned on the outside light; it looks so cosy.’
‘I had no intention of fumbling around on the doorstep in the dark again,’ he grins.
‘I wasn’t expecting you to; we aren’t teenagers. I was assuming you’d stay.’
‘I meant for the key. But maybe you’ll need someone around, anyway, in case you have bad dreams about the couple who disappeared.’ He makes a ghoulish sound.
I give him a playful shove before putting the key in the lock and opening the door.
‘Some reporter you are if you believe everything you read. If he wasn’t caught in the act, or he didn’t confess – which he couldn’t as he was dead – the truth will never be known.’
*
I lie here with my head on Nic’s chest, listening to his heartbeat, while his fingers gently stroke my arm.
‘Hey, what was that suggestion you were going to make? Did you change your mind?’
‘Oh, yes, I… um… I was wondering whether you’d consider moving back in here. I mean, there’s a spare room and no one needs to know. The rental agreement would still be valid, but I thought it made sense seeing as poor Sid really doesn’t want you walking him. And sometimes it’s handy having a man around, in case there’s a plumbing emergency, or anything…’ My words tail off. It didn’t come out sounding quite as casual as I’d hoped; in fact, it sounded rather pathetic and suspect even to my ears.
‘That’s an interesting proposal. So, you’re suggesting I bring my tool kit as well as my suitcase?’
‘Just a thought, no strings attached.’
I’m trying hard not to turn this into a big deal but I can see he isn’t fooled.
‘This is about the burglaries, isn’t it? Tia, if you don’t feel safe here you need to be straight with me because that’s a whole different thing.’
I feel awkward, knowing that it’s probably my imagination because I’m not usually easily spooked. But on several occasions over the last week I’ve looked out of the window after turning out the light late at night and fancied I saw something, or someone, moving between the trees. It’s probably only shadows as the wind whips through the canopy above. But it was in the same place at about the same time. Then last night it wasn’t there, so now I’m hesitant to voice what is surely only a touch of paranoia.
‘I… maybe it’s nothing, merely a trick of the light and I’m a little on edge given what’s been happening. That’s the price you pay for having an over-active imagination.’ I try to lighten the mood.
Nic changes his position and I can feel his muscles tense a little. He isn’t falling for it and now I wish I hadn’t said anything.
‘I will admit I’m not totally happy to think of you here all alone at night, but I didn’t want to freak you out. Or undermine you in any way.’
‘Is there any news up at the farm?’
Nic pulls me closer and I’m more than content to snuggle into him.
Even during the day, I find myself drawn to the window, almost ignoring the vista and checking to see whether anyone is watching the cottage. Which is crazy because they’d be very likely to be spotted as neither Max, or I have a set pattern of comings and goings. Surely even burglars would know a little cottage like this wouldn’t hold anything of very great value. The risk wouldn’t be worth it. Would it?
‘We’re hoping the fingerprinting will identify whether it’s linked to the other burglaries. Look, if you really don’t feel safe at the moment then I’m more than happy to use that spare room until they round up these criminals. Which they will, as everyone is on alert and the paper will continue to give these incidents front page attention so that doesn’t ease up.
‘You can still throw me out of my own house whenever you want, of course. Well, until the second of July. What it’s like to have all that power over a hapless, homeless man, eh?’
I laugh but it comes out like a snort. Nic is trying his best not to make me feel awkward but I do. Maybe this isn’t about what I think I’m seeing in the shadows at all, but a sudden desire not to be alone. Nic has somehow wormed his way inside my comfort zone with seeming ease. Maybe what’s spooking me is the way in which I’m willing to lower my guard whenever he’s around.
‘I’ve figured out what we both have in common; well, two things, actually.’ I move back so I can see his face a little more clearly in the moonlit bedroom. The inky black sky seems to make the full moon tonight look translucent and it’s quite light considering the lateness of the hour. I want Nic to see that I’m serious.
‘I was wondering what was going on inside that head of yours – I knew there was more to this, although I understand your concerns. We’re all a little bit on edge at the moment. Anyway, are you going to share your discovery with me?’ He sounds intrigued.
I cast around for the right words.
‘Neither of us really know what we want, or what we are capable of wanting. We only know that we’re going through a transition and that’s what draws us together. The other thing is fear. OK, so I’m afraid of the shadow I think I’ve seen in the woods but I’m also afraid that I’m destined to be that career woman who is successful, but will never find anything else to give me a sense of fulfilment in my life.’
‘You can’t stop there. What is it that I’m afraid of? Fending off intruders isn’t on the list, I might add. I know how to handle myself.’ His attempt at injecting some humour falls flat and I realise that he’s a tad uncomfortable. ‘You’re scared that the life you have here in Caswell Bay is the one you are meant to have and that you will end up finding it enough. As if being happy can’t be that simple. You’ve been brought up to be an achiever. If you don’t achieve, you will consider yourself to be a failure.’
He lowers his chin, his eyes now in line with mine.
‘I think maybe you’re right. In the words of Luke, “The sins of the parents are visited upon the children”, and maybe he was right in my case. But it’s not the same for you, you had loving parents.’
‘I know. But that makes it worse, because I’ve seen how good a marriage and family life can be. I’ve also seen how easily communication breaks down and the damage that ensues. My brother is starting to come around, but he’s been lost to me for a long time. Maybe I can only succeed at pushing people away on a personal level.’
Nic rolls into me so our faces are touching.
‘Do you know what I think?’
I sigh, putting my arm around him and hugging him even closer.
‘What?’
‘I think that you think too much, although I’m finding that quality strangely seductive. You certainly haven’t succeeded in pushing me away, you are actually reeling me in. I’m like a fish on the end of a line.’
I giggle. ‘I have to sleep. My eyelids are closing. You’ve worn me out.’
‘Good, then I’ve achieved my goal. And Tia, don’t worry about the shadows. I have no intention of letting any harm come to you while you are here.’
Within seconds my breathing deepens and I feel myself floating, getting lighter and lighter. For some rather bizarre reason, there appear to be snowflakes all around me. I feel myself letting go, happy to surrender and let my dream take me where it wants to go. Somewhere, quite close, a phrase seems to hang in the air, ‘Sweet dreams, lovely Tia’ and then the silence takes over.