‘You’re behaving like a child,’ says Alistair.
Cosmo knows that he is but he can’t help himself. He paces up and down, staring across Batson Creek, clutching the phone to his ear, willing Al to understand.
‘It’s just so different here, Al,’ he says, hearing the pleading note in his voice and despising himself for it. ‘It’s not Becks’ kind of place anyway. Not really.’
Even that isn’t entirely true. It would be a novelty to her, though she’d become bored quickly. It would be impossible not to bump into people he is beginning to get to know; people who are already linking him with Amy.
‘What’s that screeching noise?’ asks Al.
‘Seagulls,’ answers Cosmo. ‘The signal’s not great in the house. Texting is OK but I have to make calls from the end of the garden.’
‘So you want to tell Becks that you were already planning to come to London next weekend. What reason would you give?’
Cosmo has given this a lot of thought. Becks will know that he can download any music or books he might want and that he can buy himself some clothes if he needs some. At last he hit on the one thing she doesn’t really understand or have any interest in. He tests this on Al.
‘It’s some of my camera stuff,’ he says. ‘I never thought it would be so amazing here. I’ve got a blog now and someone’s put me on to Newsflare. They’ll buy videos and things if they’re really good. I was talking to a guy about it in the Coffee Shop.’
‘Yeah, OK,’ says Al.
Cosmo sighs with relief. Al isn’t into the photography thing either.
‘I really need your help here, mate,’ he says, using the voice that he’s always used when he needs Al to bail him out. ‘I did you a favour coming down here so your mum and dad could go away. You owe me.’
‘So what have you told this girl?’ asks Al. ‘What did you say her name is?’
Cosmo wishes now that he’d never mentioned Amy, although he hasn’t actually told Al her name. For some reason, keeping it a secret helps her to seem less real, as if it’s a kind of game and all part of this other world he’s living in now.
‘I haven’t told her about Becks,’ he answers rather sulkily, ‘but she knows I’ve got my own flat in London. Look, it’s no great deal. Do we have to have the third degree?’
‘OK,’ says Al reluctantly. ‘I guess I can come down for a weekend. I’ll come down on Friday evening. I’ll check train times but it’ll probably be quite late. When were you thinking of travelling?’
‘I’ll check train times for Saturday morning,’ Cosmo says. ‘Could you give me a lift to the station?’
Al begins to laugh. ‘Why not?’ he says. ‘But only if you introduce me to this girl before you go. And you still haven’t told me her name.’
Cosmo laughs, too, feeling quite weak with relief. He’s surprised at how important this is: this need to prevent Becks from crashing into the new life he’s making whilst he’s still holding on to everything he has in London.
‘Her name’s Amy,’ he tells Al. ‘You might even know her.’
‘Unlikely,’ Al tells him. ‘The parents only bought the house six months ago when Dad retired. I’ve hardly been there. OK. I’ll do it this once.’
‘Thanks, mate. I’ll tell Becks then. ’Bye.’
He ends the call but continues to stand looking at the creek, watching an egret patrolling the shallows by the old lime kiln, listening to the cry of the seagulls. Part of his mind is wondering if he can make a good photograph of the elegant white bird against the dark stones, the other is phrasing sentences that will prevent Becks from travelling west. He knows that if they have a conversation she might yet win; she’s so quick, so determined. The best way, he decides, will be to email her. He can explain that he needs to get his camera equipment, and that he’s been looking forward to them both doing a film and some supper somewhere. Or a show, if they can get tickets. She’ll understand that he has to make arrangements for Reggie but that Al has made plans to come down. He’ll present it as a fait accompli.
Cosmo walks back up to the house wondering why Al was quite so pompous about it all. After all, he and Becks have never hit it off. Al thinks Becks is too controlling and lacks humour. Becks thinks Al is immature and a bad influence. Cosmo tries to keep the peace, refusing to allow slagging matches.
As he goes inside to compose his email to Becks, Cosmo wonders if Al might bump into Amy and what would happen if he does. When he mentioned to her that he must make the dash to London she slightly hinted that she’s been thinking of a trip to the capital. He managed to turn it aside by asking her if she’d been before, and the conversation moved on to an exhibition she saw at the Hayward. Now, he must have something ready for that eventuality: a birthday of a relative, perhaps.
Reggie comes to greet him, tail wagging, and Cosmo bends to stroke him.
‘Nearly time for walks,’ he tells him. ‘Let me just get this sorted and we’ll be off. Round the creek and then a cup of coffee. You’re going to be seeing Al at the weekend. You’ll like that, won’t you?’
Amy comes into the Coffee Shop, waves to Lydia behind the counter, and glances around for Cosmo. There is no sight of him and she debates with herself as to whether she should simply order a takeaway or sit down and hope that he might show up. Even as she thinks about it, he comes in behind her. His smile, the look in his eyes, threatens to unsettle her, but she manages to stay calm and bends to stroke Reggie.
‘I was going to grab a takeaway,’ she says, ‘but now that you’re here …’
‘I’ll order,’ he says, ‘if you just hang on to Reggie.’
Amy sits down at a table, pulling Reggie in beside her, encouraging him to sit close to her, and looks at Cosmo standing in the little queue. It’s odd, that sense of vitality he has; the ability to appear twice as alive as anybody else. As he turns she glances quickly away and he comes to sit with her, carrying a plate of honeycomb tiffin.
‘Do you like these?’ he asks. ‘Shall we share? I’ve brought two forks.’
She laughs. ‘I love it. Thanks.’
He begins to tell her about something called Newsflare; that they’re interested in some of his photographic work. They pay for videos and would be interested if he could get clips that could be used on local television news. Anything that would be of interest like special events, severe weather, accidents. He is enthusiastic and she listens and watches him, wondering what will happen when his house-sitting in Batson Creek finishes. He doesn’t talk much about London and she’s beginning to wonder, to hope, that he might think of relocating down here. Perhaps this photography opportunity might be a way of encouraging him.
‘I’m going to have to dash up to London this weekend,’ he’s saying. ‘It’s a family celebration that I must go to, and I can pick up a few things whilst I’m there.’
A family celebration. Amy thinks about it. She can see that it’s much too early to be included in that so she gives up the idea of suggesting she should go with him. Anyway, it’s all a bit tricky: she doesn’t really know him well enough yet.
‘What about Reggie?’ she asks.
She notices a little flash of something in his eyes: relief? Is he glad that he hasn’t got to explain why he’s not inviting her? A tremor of pride stiffens her and she hopes she hasn’t been looking too keen.
‘His owners’ son is coming to keep an eye,’ Cosmo says. ‘He’s a friend of mine. That’s why I’m here, really. I think I told you their house-sitter had some last-minute disaster. Anyway, it’s only one night. I’ll travel up on Saturday morning and hope to come back on Sunday.’
‘Maybe I’ll see him around,’ she says casually. ‘What’s his name?’
An odd expression crosses Cosmo’s face, as if he doesn’t want to tell her his friend’s name, and she wonders if he’s afraid that she might like him.
‘It’s Alistair,’ he says. ‘But you wouldn’t know him if you saw him anyway.’
‘But I’d know Reggie,’ she says. She’s amused by this little show of possessiveness. ‘Perhaps he’ll bring him in here for coffee.’
‘His parents only moved down six months ago,’ Cosmo says, ‘so I’m not sure if Al knows his way around yet.’
‘Not an old hand like you, then.’
He grins at her. ‘You’ve got to admit I’m a quick study. Speaking of which, I rather like the look of the Salcombe Gin School. I pass it every time I walk in and I wondered if you’d like to show me round. The Tasting Bar looks like it could be fun.’
Amy relaxes, they make a plan, then she gets up, gives Reggie a pat and hurries back to work.