Alexander resisted the urge to literally skip down the street, or to flick his legs up in a high side-kick.
He settled for walking with a bounce in his step, only stopping when his mobile vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, afraid it would be his father pressing for his return to the office, as he had in every phone call and message the past two days. Each insistence heightening the burgeoning dread that had formed in Alexander’s gut, in his heart, at the through of leaving Herring Cove. Of leaving Sophie.
See you at the market X
Alexander smiled, his lips stretching as wide as they could go.
Since that moment at the beach where he’d been seconds away from kissing Sophie, his imagination had been in overdrive. Her petite, yet perfectly shaped lips had floated through his mind more than once, and he’d wondered if her kisses would be as strong as she was. As determined. As soft and sweet.
His imagination had let him down.
Sophie’s kisses were more passionate, more demanding, more than anything he could’ve hoped for. Or dreamed about. Her lips had seared, branded. As unforgettable as they’d been unexpected.
‘Alex, what are you doing with that big grin on your face? You look like a bloke who’s been up to something… and I’d like to know what that something is.’
Alexander followed the buoyant voice and saw the local publican, Rob, who he’d gotten to know a little over the course of his stay, waving him over from one of the pub’s windows, open wide to embrace the beautiful day.
A reggae tune floated on the summer’s air, along with waves of laughter and happy chatter from the customers inside the pub.
Before he had the chance to make a conscious decision, he found himself crossing the road towards Rob.
‘Beautiful day for it.’ Alexander propped his elbows up on the windowsill and breathed in the scent of hops and cooking oil, underpinned by cleaning products.
Nowhere near as heady as Sophie’s violet and vanilla scent, but it held its own charm, especially on a day like today where the birds’ chirps seemed filled with more joy than usual, the sun brighter, the breeze warmer.
‘Beautiful day for what is what I’ll like to know.’ Rob winked. ‘And what are you doing loitering about like that? Come in. I’ll grab you your usual and we can have a natter.’
Emails that needed replying to, phone calls to return, the vow to head home to the office, all tugged at his conscience. Bugger it. Soon as he was back home his life would be restored to its all-work and no-play grind. What would one harmless lunchtime beer matter in the grand scheme of things?
‘Why not? It’s not like I’ve anything better to do.’
Rob ushered him in, then left him to take a seat at the window. The windowsills had been converted into built-in leaners, wide enough to hold a pint glass, a bowl of chips and a couple of pairs of elbows.
‘There you go.’
A crisp, golden lager was set before him.
‘Thanks.’ He nodded his gratitude as he took a sip of the refreshing drink. ‘Just what the doctor ordered.’
‘She’s a warm one.’ Rob sat back onto his stool and took a long swig of his pint. ‘Good day for the market. It’s nice to see the place humming with people, like you’d think it ought to be at this time of year.’ He set his glass down and stared out the window. ‘Sometimes I wonder if Herring Cove is in some magical bubble that keeps most people out, but, every now and then that bubble will let someone in, and once here they find they don’t want to leave.’
Alexander ran his thumb through the condensation on his glass. Rob’s words were thick with meaning… but he couldn’t quite catch what that meaning was. Couldn’t. Or was afraid to admit he knew exactly what Rob was on about. ‘Were you born here, Rob? Or did you make your way into the magical bubble of the village?’
Rob shifted in his seat, angled his body in Alexander’s direction. His brow creased as his eyebrows knitted together. ‘Made my way? That makes it sound like I wanted to come here. My arrival in Herring Cove was much more in the style of fate.’
Alexander found himself leaning in, not wanting to miss a word of the tale to come in Rob’s deep and low lilt.
‘I was a session musician once upon a time. Would tour around the country whenever required. Loved the lifestyle. Loved not sitting still. Rolling stones gather no moss and all that. I was never one for the idea of being bogged down by anything or anyone…’ His shoulders shook with a shudder. ‘I was so independent I wouldn’t even travel with the band. Preferred to pack my stuff in my car and get there on my own. Then one day I took a wrong turn and ended up here. No big deal, or so I thought. I could just do a U-turn and find my way back to the main road. Except then I heard this thump-thump-thump.’
‘Flat tyre.’ Alexander’s knuckles strained against his skin as he gripped his glass. Rob’s wide eyes and lowered voice made it seem like a horror story. Yet he had his happy ending. Didn’t he?
‘Two flat tyres. And not a tyre shop in sight. So, I did the only thing I could.’
Alexander held his thumb and little finger out and put his hand up to the side of his head. ‘Called for help?’
‘No.’ Rob let out a huff of disgust, his large nose wrinkling. ‘I found the closest pub – or as it turned out, the only pub – ordered myself a beer and figured I’d sleep on the beach, then sort everything out the next day.’
‘And how did that work out for you?’ Alexander asked, even though he had an idea he knew exactly how things went.
‘Well, I met this gorgeous woman who was working behind the bar. Turned out she owned the place. And, you know what? I think she must carry the magic of Herring Cove with her, because once I was in her bubble I didn’t want to pop it. Or blow it.’
‘Did you ever miss your old life? Feel trapped by your new one?’ Alexander knew what Rob’s answer would be, but wanted to hear it anyway. To see the emotion on his face.
A cheek-creasing grin appeared. The lines surrounding his eyes became crevasses. His eyes radiated love. ‘Not once. I have a place to play my music. More friends – real connections – than I ever could have dreamed of. And the love of a very good woman. What more could I want?’
‘You bleating on about the magic bubble of Herring Cove again, my love?’ Sherry set down a bowl of chips and a ramekin of creamy aioli, wrapped her arm around Rob’s neck and brought him in for a kiss. ‘Don’t believe him. There’s no bubble. I just got very lucky that his car got nailed, literally, and that he liked beer.’
Rob shook his head. ‘There’s. A. Bubble.’ The words were silent, but Sherry mussed his hair like she’d heard them anyway.
‘Silly bugger. Now do you two need anything else?’
‘Thanks, my heart, but I think we’re good.’ Rob kissed Sherry’s cheek and sent her on her way with an affectionate tap on her bum. ‘So, how’s Herring Cove treating you? Have you got what you came for?’
Alexander’s heart stilled. Was this friendly conversation going down the hard-word path? Was Rob going to give him grief for doing his job? A job he had little choice but to do.
‘Breathe, lad.’ Rob placed his hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze. ‘You look like you’re about to bring up your breakfast.’
Alexander did as he was told and filled his lungs with deep breath after breath until the beer in his stomach ceased swirling and the tension in his chest released.
‘Sorry. Being here hasn’t been the easiest. We’ve never been met with this kind of resistance. Tonight, at the market, I’m planning to make myself available to anyone who wants to have a chat. Hopefully I can ease some minds. Explain to them why a resort will be good for the village.’
Rob released his hold on Alexander and went back to nursing his beer. ‘Maybe I’m reading things wrong, but you don’t sound particularly convinced yourself that a resort’s the best idea for the village.’
Was it too late to excuse himself, to leave this conversation? Or would doing that make it clear that Rob was right? That a Fletcher resort in Herring Cove was beginning to feel less and less like the right thing to do.
Alexander surveyed the hustle and bustle of people finishing off their display tables. Decorations fluttered in the breeze. Products were stacked high. The village buzzed. And there wasn’t a five-storey resort anywhere in sight that could take credit for the vibrant ambience.
‘Imagine all this,’ he indicated to the scene before them, ‘times twenty. That’s what a resort would bring.’
‘If that’s what you have to keep telling yourself to help you sleep at night, son, then you keep the phrase on repeat.’ Rob lifted his glass to his mouth, his eyes never leaving Alexander. ‘Anyway, enough of the resort talk. I prefer it out of sight, out of mind. I’m more interested in your business with our Sophie.’
Alexander’s gut constricted. From one difficult topic to another. He barely understood what was happening with Sophie himself; to have to explain it to another person?
‘I may not have kids but I can’t help but feel a bit protective when it comes to Sophie and, from what I saw while tinkling the ivories the other night, I’d say that there was some interest, on both sides. The question I have is just how deep does that interest go?’
Alexander shifted in his padded seat. Seconds ago, it had been comfortable, now it could have been made from rock. And not because Rob was asking him a tough question. The easy answer was that he was very interested in Sophie. The hard thing to answer was, just how far could you take things with someone who inhabited a different world from you – in all senses. It wasn’t fair to start something he couldn’t finish. But something had already been started, and he didn’t know that he had the power, or the will, to stop it.
‘You see, Alex, Sophie may not have family of the DNA-derived type in this village, but she’s got people who look out for her, love her, all through this tiny spot on the map. For all her independence, for all her outward show of positivity spiked with determination, she’s got her fragile spots. That’s why that wall of hers is as high as it is thick. She doesn’t let anyone behind that wall easily, and if someone did manage to get through, then took a bulldozer to her heart?’ Rob swung an imaginary mallet through the air. ‘Well I don’t know that Sophie would be able to rebuild that wall again. And even if she did, it wouldn’t hold strong. And she sure as hell would never let anyone behind – or anywhere near it – again.’
Alexander gripped the back of his neck and tried not to think about how Sophie had not half an hour ago allowed him behind said wall. ‘What you’re saying is that if I hurt her you’ll not so much see me out of town as throw me out?’
‘That’s if you choose to leave.’ Rob finished his beer and set the glass down with a thump made Alexander jump in his seat. ‘You’ve found your way into the bubble, remember?’
Alexander pushed his beer away. Any appetite for it gone. ‘I would never hurt Sophie, not intentionally,’ he said as much to himself as to Rob.
‘That’s the thing though, boy. All the best intentions in the world won’t always stop you hurting someone you care about. Or love.’ Rob reached out and slapped him on his back. ‘But I do believe you when you say you’re not out to hurt our girl. I just want you to know that if you do, you’d better leave and never come back. Small places have long memories.’
‘Duly noted.’ An uncomfortable mix of duty and desire sat heavy in Alexander’s chest. He slid off the stool and nodded a silent goodbye to Rob, who returned the nod with solemn eyes.
Alexander pulled his sunglasses from his pocket and placed them over his eyes before heading out into the bright day. A smile rose unbidden as he saw Puddles attempting to catch a butterfly. Leaping up, his furry white paws missing as the butterfly ducked and weaved its way through the air. He squatted down and clicked his tongue, distracting Puddles from his mission. The cat trotted towards him and lay flat on the ground, belly up, waiting for some love.
Rob was right – Herring Cove had pulled him into its bubble.
He’d come expecting to expand the Fletcher empire. Instead he was on the verge of blowing his entire life up.
And a tiny, rebellious part of him didn’t think that would be a bad thing.