Anyway, I flew into Wellington rather than Christchurch, partly so I could travel alone for a bit and see the North Island, but also to give Angela a chance to get settled.
After enjoying the capital city for a few days, immersing myself in the culture and culinary scene, I signed up for some tours, taking in sights such as the enormous Lake Taupo, Waikato River and the thunderous, mesmerising Huka Falls. Among other things, I also enjoyed two nights in Auckland and several days visiting vineyards and super sandy beaches.
I had a fabulous time.
When I finally came to take the ferry across the Cook Strait to Picton on the South Island, knowing I’d soon be reunited with my old friend Angela, I was in a cracking mood.
‘Looks like New Zealand definitely agrees with someone,’ a voice from nearby said. I was standing there on the boat’s open top deck, around a third of the way into the three-hour-plus crossing, soaking in the morning sunshine and marvelling at the magical, rugged coastlines, uninhabited as far as the eye could see since leaving Wellington behind.
‘Incredible views, right?’ the same male voice added with an Irish lilt. ‘Truly breathtaking.’
I’d assumed up until then that he’d been talking to someone else. But since no one appeared to be answering him, it dawned on me that I ought to turn around to check. I did and, sure enough, there was a shortish chap with windswept dark, curly hair and these intense blue eyes looking straight at me. He was standing about a metre back, a wonky grin leaning across his stubbly chin. ‘Oh, hello there,’ he said. ‘Wow, even more beauty! I’m not sure my eyes can handle it. I should probably walk away now. You must get tired of chancers like me approaching you. Sorry, I can’t contain myself sometimes. Ed the eejit, my pals back home like to call me. You can probably see why. At least they don’t use my full name.’
Seeing as I was in a good mood and had a couple more hours to kill on the ferry, I decided to humour him, since he seemed harmless and jovial. ‘What’s wrong with your full name?’ I asked.
‘Ah, she talks! And a lovely English voice too. It must be my lucky day. Yes, my full name. It’s not Edward or Edmund or Edwin, all of which would be preferable. Can you guess what it is … without laughing?’
I allowed the hint of a smile to form at the edge of my pursed lips. ‘You’ll have to tell me.’
‘Don’t make me say it in public,’ he said. ‘Please, no! Oh, okay. If I must. It’s Edgar. There I’ve spoken it out loud. What can I say to explain? It’s not very Irish, unlike my surname, which is Doyle. It’s not a tribute to an old relative or friend either. Character-building, that’s what it is. And proof that my parents have a wicked sense of humour. Anyway, enough about me. What’s your name?’
And so I met Ed, my future husband; the yin to my yang; the man I’m still madly in love with today, who tamed my restless spirit.
When he asked if I’d like to join him for coffee and cake, I agreed.
‘What brings you to New Zealand?’ he asked when we were sitting opposite each other on a small circular table in the sun-soaked onboard café. ‘Business, pleasure, bit of both?’
‘Pleasure; potentially business. Depends if I decide to stay here for a while and find work.’
‘That sounds very fluid and liberating. I like it. Where are you headed next, if you don’t mind me asking?’
‘Christchurch. I’ll be catching up with an old friend who’s recently moved there from the UK.’
‘Taking the train once we reach Picton?’
‘That’s right.’
He grinned. ‘Me too.’
‘What about you, Ed? What brings you here?’
He took a slow sip from his coffee before replying: ‘Pretty much a midlife crisis.’
‘Aren’t you a bit young for that?’
‘I suppose that depends how long I live. I’m currently thirty-six, so if I popped my clogs in my early seventies, now would be about right.’
I enjoyed the black humour of this statement, delivered with tongue firmly in cheek. I was also a little surprised to discover he was eight years older than me, as he looked younger. If anything, that only made him more appealing, though. I liked the fact he had some life experience.
‘I’m technically on a sabbatical,’ he said. ‘I’m a university lecturer in Dublin. Psychology, ironically, considering it was my poor mental state that led to me running off to the other side of the world to find myself. Yes, I know what you’re thinking: a living, breathing cliché. And it gets better. My meltdown, for want of a better word, followed the breakdown of my marriage.’
Ed paused for a moment and looked me square in the eye. It was really intense, moving somehow, like he was opening up a window into his soul. I wasn’t used to men being like this with me, so honest and upfront, and it punctured my defences, made me let him in. It didn’t feel like he was looking for sympathy, not in the least, particularly as he kept everything light-hearted as he spoke. It was more like he didn’t have the energy any longer to play games or wear a mask – and this was refreshing.
Lowering his eyelids, so he was squinting at me, he added: ‘I can imagine what you’re thinking. Thanks to countless books and films, people imagine us lecturers to be regularly fornicating with our students, feeding on their vibrancy like academic vampires. Well, not this lecturer. I was very happily married, with four amazing children – two sets of twins – until my soon-to-be ex-wife told me she was no longer in love with me. “How do you know?” I asked her. “Let’s see a counsellor who might be able to get us back on track.” It turned out she was in love with someone else, a moneyed muscleman she’d met at the gym. They’d been sleeping together behind my back for months. Cue the sabbatical request and subsequent long-haul flight. I’m not bitter, though.’ He winked. ‘If none of that had happened, I wouldn’t be sitting here enjoying these amazing views with you. Any questions?’
I scratched my head. ‘Two sets of twins?’
Stretching his eyes wide open, so they were almost bulging out at me, he nodded slowly. ‘Unusual but not impossible, as we discovered. I have identical twin sons, Rory and Niall, who are six, and non-identical twin daughters, Niamh and Shauna, who are three.’
‘That sounds like a handful. Your wife’s having to manage on her own now?’
‘Oh, no. What do you take me for? I’d never have left her in the lurch, midlife crisis or not. Maria has an au pair to help out, don’t you worry. Plus she’s moved in with lover boy in his swanky beachfront mansion. I was barely getting to see them before I left, which was one of reasons I ran off. I miss them terribly. Is it weird to say that, considering I chose to put so much distance between us?’
‘No, I don’t think so. Sometimes you have to do what’s right for you. How long are you here for?’
‘I’m not sure, to be honest. I’ve already spent nearly a month on the North Island and there’s loads I want to see on the South Island. My onward flight is in four weeks, but it’s transferable, so I guess I’ll see where I’m up to. My sabbatical is for a year, as things stand, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to stay away from the nippers for that long. They might not even remember me, otherwise.’
‘Where are you going after New Zealand?’
‘Tasmania and then Perth in Western Australia.’
This answer surprised me. ‘Really? I recently spent quite a long time in Oz; I didn’t make it to either of those places, although I’d have loved to.’
I gave him a potted history of my Australian travels.
Nodding, Ed explained: ‘I went backpacking there with Maria when we were both in our early twenties. Sounds like we travelled a similar path to you, minus the long stay in Sydney. Perth and Tasmania were the two places I really regretted missing. I’ve always fancied going up the remote west coast in a campervan. I think it would be heavenly to have all that open space, all those wild, empty beaches, to yourself. It would be like travelling back in time.’
I could almost see the untamed sea he was imagining, refl
ected in those striking blue eyes of his – and I had this feeling in my stomach. It was a sensation I’d only ever experienced anything like once before, with one other person. A meeting of hearts and minds is the closest I could probably get to describing it. It was something I hadn’t ever expected to feel again, and I knew exactly what it meant: I was falling in love with this man already, despite the fact we’d only just met.
Not that I had any intention of letting him know. But the really interesting thing, for me, was that the last time I’d experienced such an amazing sensation, the timing had been off. I hadn’t been ready for it. I’d been too young and restless.
On this occasion, I didn’t feel that way. The main thing I wanted, sitting in that café on the ferry with this exciting new person, was to keep talking to him. The mere act of doing so was giving me a head rush. I wanted to know more about this man, whose words had made me feel a broad spectrum of emotions – from joy to sorrow – in the space of a few sentences.
I also wanted to do the unthinkable, something I rarely did with close friends, never mind new acquaintances. I wanted to tell Ed about myself – not everything, not yet – but I was ready to open the door.
We really hit it off. We talked nonstop for the rest of the ferry journey. Then we boarded the Coastal Pacific train together, enjoying yet more splendid panoramic views. By the time the train pulled into Christchurch that evening, it felt like we’d known each other for ages.
I was dying to kiss Ed by that point – to hold him close and not let go. I just wasn’t confident enough to make a move. I had a hunch he liked me, not least because he kept paying me compliments. But at the same time, paradoxically, he was hard to read. I kept wondering if he was simply a flirty guy who often made such comments to people. It was so unusual for me to like someone as much as I already liked him, I felt vulnerable.
I recall taking myself off to the loo several times during that long journey and looking at my giggly, glowing reflection in the mirror. ‘Calm down,’ I kept telling myself. ‘Don’t get over-excited. He’s a man on the rebound, in the throes of a self-confessed midlife crisis. Remember what happened to you in Sydney.’
Honestly, that last warning to myself was a hollow one, though. What had happened with my ex-boss, Mark, while unpleasant and the trigger for me to move on, was entirely different. I’d never felt anything even approaching love for him. I’d fancied him, he’d been nice to me until he wasn’t, and the sex had been enjoyable but not mind-blowing. The main reason I’d left wasn’t heartbreak. It was because I’d felt humiliated. Besides, I’d already stayed there too long.
As the train drew closer and closer to Christchurch, I couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen when we got there. I knew Angela would be waiting for me. She’d insisted on putting me up, despite me saying it wasn’t necessary. I knew that once the train pulled into the city, Ed and I would have to go our separate ways. He knew this too, from our marathon conversation, but so far neither of us had addressed the elephant in the railway carriage.
Finally, minutes before the journey came to an end, Ed reached over and took my hand in his, giving me that intense, hypnotic gaze again. ‘I’ve really enjoyed taking this journey with you today, Cassie,’ he said. ‘I don’t know how to say this without sounding cheesy, but I feel like we’ve made a real connection. I know you’ll be busy catching up with your friend, but do you think you might be able to spare a few hours one evening to let me take you out to dinner? I’d love to talk with you some more. Get to know you even better. What do you think?’
‘I’d love to,’ I said, resisting the urge to tell him I thought he was never going to ask. ‘Let’s swap email addresses. I also have a phone number for where I’m staying. I’ll dig it out.’
There was a cheeky kiss right before we disembarked the train. It gave me butterflies in my stomach, left me dreaming of more, and cemented the strong feelings I already had towards Ed.
Then it was goodbye to him, at least for the time being, and hello to Angela.
CHAPTER 27
The pair of us started screaming when we saw each other. It’s not the kind of thing I usually do, drawing attention to myself in public like that. But when Angela shrieked, running towards me on the platform, arms outstretched and tears rolling down her cheeks, I couldn’t help but do the same. People were staring and rolling their eyes, but I couldn’t have cared less. It was wonderful to see her again.
‘Oh, Cassie!’ Angela said after we’d almost hugged and kissed each other to death. ‘I can’t believe it’s been so long. Now here we are, on the other side of the world, together again at last. You look amazing, by the way.’ She reached forward and gently squeezed my cheek between finger and thumb, like a doting aunt. ‘Oh, I’ve missed that face. I can’t wait to catch up. How was the journey? What—’
She stopped mid-sentence, something further down the platform catching her eye.
I turned to see what she was looking at, only to find my eyes landing on Ed, who grinned and started waving.
‘Who’s that?’ Angela asked. ‘He seemed to be staring at us and now … Hang on. Do you know him?’
‘I do. I’ll tell you all about it later, I—’
Before I could stop her, Angela was marching over to Ed and introducing herself.
‘Sorry,’ I mouthed to him from behind. We’d already said our goodbyes, having agreed it would be easier that way, so this was unexpected.
‘How do you two know each other?’ Angela asked him. ‘Cassie wouldn’t say.’
‘We met on the ferry,’ he said with a friendly smile, followed by a subtle wink in my direction. ‘And we sat together on the train. Cassie’s great company, isn’t she? I really enjoyed our time together.’
‘Did you now?’ Angela said, turning to flash me a private look of approval. ‘Where are you staying? Maybe I could give you a lift or, I don’t know, you could always come with us and have some food. My girlfriend is cooking, but I’m sure she’d be able to accommodate another mouth. She always makes way too much.’
‘That’s very kind of you,’ he replied. ‘But my hotel is only a short walk from here and you two need to catch up. Another time, perhaps? Cassie and I have each other’s contact details, so—’
‘You do, do you? Good. It’s an open offer. You’re welcome whenever. We’ve only recently moved here – I’m barely more than a visitor myself, still finding my feet – and any friend of Cassie’s is a friend of mine.’
Once we were out of Ed’s sight, I prodded Angela in the side, making her jump.
‘Hey, what was that for?’ she asked.
‘You know what. I can’t believe you ran after him like that. Here’s me trying to play it cool and you—’
‘Wow,’ she said. ‘You’re into him, aren’t you? I’m right, I know it. You’re turning bright red. Wait, did you two get it on already?’
‘No, it wasn’t like that. We got on really well, that’s all. Although he does want to take me out on a date. And there was a little kiss when we said goodbye the first time. You know, before you made me go back up to him and I ended up doing that awkward wave thing.’
Angela squealed before pulling me into a big hug. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so smitten before, Cassie. How exciting! He did seem very nice, I must say. Handsome too. And the Irish accent is sexy, right? I’ve always thought so. Oh, we’ll definitely have to get him over sooner rather than later.’ She stood back and gave me a sudden serious look. ‘How long is he in Christchurch for? He’s not just passing through, is he?’
‘Chill,’ I told her. ‘You’re the one so madly in love you dropped everything to move here. Tell me all about that. And I want the lowdown on Melissa before I meet her. You haven’t even said how the two of you got to know each other yet. Come on, spill.’
That did the trick. She spent the rest of the journey back to her and Melissa’s new home catching me up on her life, with a particular emphasis on their whirlwind romance over the past several m
onths. They’d met in a London restaurant after both being stood up by different dates. They’d compared notes before opting to eat together as a happy alternative.
‘We were inseparable after that,’ Angela said. ‘I knew she was the one for me. We clicked in a way I’ve never experienced before. It’s always felt effortless between us. I’m sure you two are going to love each other.’
Her words made me think of Ed. Bizarrely, I felt like I was missing him already. I pushed the notion to one side, but a mental image of him stubbornly remained in the corner of my mind, like an itch begging to be scratched.
When the phone at the house rang the next morning, as I was in the bathroom after breakfast, I hoped it was Ed. A minute passed, during which I waited, ears pricked, hoping for my name to be called. It wasn’t, so I returned to brushing my teeth with renewed vigour. Finally, there was a knock on the door, followed by Angela’s voice. ‘Oh, lovebird. There’s a gentleman caller for you on the phone.’
I spat my mouthful of toothpaste into the sink and flung open the door. ‘Who answered?’ I asked.
‘Me.’
‘Have you been talking to him all this time?’
She smirked. ‘What can I say, Cassie? He’s a chatty chap. I invited him here for dinner this evening, but he has other ideas. Sounds like he’s desperate to get you on your own.’
‘I don’t want to ditch you. I’ve only just arrived. I’ll tell him no.’
‘You will not. He’s already agreed to have afternoon tea with us beforehand. Come on, he’s waiting.’
Ed took me to an amazing steak house in the heart of the city that evening, but only after first pretending we were going for a Thai meal. This was a joke, based on the fact I’d told him about my recent spell in Thailand and how I needed a break from that cuisine. I loved how this showed he’d been paying attention, particularly as I’d only mentioned it once.
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