‘You have,’ smiles Ted. ‘Now all you’ve got to do is believe that you deserve these new friendships. You’ve got to start letting people near the scary bits.’
I nod, although my lips are quivering. I feel pretty close to tears.
‘But surely . . . I don’t have to share everything with everyone. I don’t want to be that person.’
Ted laughs. ‘No. You don’t. It’s not so much about “having to share”; it’s more about not feeling the need to hide. It’s about coming to terms with who you are and where you’ve come from.
‘Loneliness isn’t always about a lack of people. It can be about a lack of communication and connection. And that disconnect? That’s the bit you need to work on.’
*
By the time I’m headed back towards the yurt, my heart is in my shoes. I thought I’d feel better after Ted’s session, but it’s the opposite. I thought I was doing really well, that I was sharing with the others and forming bonds. But Ted’s right. There’s something that’s holding me back. I know exactly what it is. The problem is, I know that if I share it, it’s not going to be this miraculous, healing moment. It’s just going to mean that I’ll be back to square one, because no one is going to want to know me after they find out what I’ve done.
*
I’m so thankful to find the yurt empty when I get there, and I fling myself down onto my bed and let out an almighty groan into my pillow. Why couldn’t I be reviewing a spa instead? And not the ‘back to earth’ kind. Oh no, I want the kind with hot water jets, Jacuzzis and fluffy towels. If only my blog was all lifestyle and interiors, I could be comfortably wrapped in some seaweed and sipping bubbles right now. Instead, I’m tired to my very core.
I sigh and flip over on my blankets to find Bay staring down at me with a very strange look.
‘Did you just mutter something about a Jacuzzi?’ He grins.
‘What? No, of course not!!’
‘Sounded like it to me!’ he laughs.
I rub my face and sigh again.
‘Hey, are you okay?’ The laughter disappears and is quickly replaced by a look of concern.
‘I guess. Just . . . well . . . knackered.’
‘Tough session with Ted?’ he asks, dropping down to sit at the end of my bed.
I sit up and face him, cross-legged, and nod.
‘Want to talk about it?’
I shake my head.
‘Sure?’
I shake my head again.
‘Well, if you do, I’m here. Anyway, you’ll probably feel a bit better after dinner with everyone. I always find that food gets me grounded again after a difficult day.’
‘I don’t think I can face food with everyone,’ I say. ‘I just need a bit of time here. Just quiet.’
‘You want me to disappear for a bit?’ he asks gently.
‘No, no! I didn’t mean you,’ I say quickly, because I really didn’t. ‘I just . . . there’s something different about the whole group. It can be quite a lot to take, you know?’
Bay nods.
‘Where’s Dennis, by the way?’ I ask, realizing I could do with a cuddle.
‘He’s gone to spend the night with Claire in her tent. I think she was in need of a bit of company.’
‘Oh,’ I say surprised. ‘Is she okay?’
‘She’s fine,’ Bay nods, getting to his feet and crossing over to his side of the yurt. ‘Just in need of the therapy mutt.’
I smile. It’s true. Sometimes Dennis is the best medicine going.
‘So,’ says Bay, ‘if you’re not going to join everyone for dinner, what do you fancy? I’m assuming you haven’t got any food lined up?’
‘How far do you reckon the nearest bacon sandwich is?’ I ask hopefully.
‘I’d say about ten miles that way,’ he says, pointing over his shoulder.
‘Balls,’ I say, my heart slipping another notch. ‘I could kill for a bacon sandwich right now.’
‘Don’t shoot!’ Bay laughs, holding up his hands. ‘Look, I’ve got a plan. How about I head down and rustle us up a picnic? I’ll let them know we’re okay, and bring our dinner back here so we can have a quiet evening?’
‘That sounds amazing,’ I smile at him gratefully. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’
‘Just chill out till I come back with the picnic,’ says Bay, disappearing out of the yurt at high speed.
Two minutes ago I was at full-blown get-me-out-of-here overwhelm. Two minutes chatting with Bay and I’ve got a smile on my face and everything magically feels that little bit better.
*
While Bay’s gone, I tidy all our bits and pieces off the little round table in front of the sofa so that we’ve got somewhere to sit and eat. Then I change into my pyjama bottoms and a soft T-shirt and, curling up on one side of the sofa, I make a valiant effort not to drift off to sleep before he comes back.
The delicious smell of herbs and hot tomato reaches me before Bay’s even back inside the yurt.
‘Sorry I took so long!’ he says, bustling in through the flap and plonking a wicker basket onto the table in front of me.
I stretch in an attempt to wake up properly. ‘To be honest, I think I nodded off!’
Bay chuckles. ‘Well, I hope you’re in the mood for pasta? I knocked up a quick herby tomato sauce. I cooked up a vat of it so that there’s enough for the others too.’
‘Sounds perfect,’ I say. I lean over and lift plates and cutlery out of the basket and set them down for us.
Bay then takes a tub of hot pasta and divvies it out between us before pouring a deep red sauce over each portion. Then he lifts half a loaf out of the basket too. Heaven.
‘Not quite a bacon sandwich, but I did my best,’ he smiles.
We eat in silence, and when I’ve finished mopping up the last of the sauce from my plate with my bread, I sit back with a contented sigh.
‘Better?’
I nod. ‘Thank you so much.’
‘It’s amazing what food and a bit of peace and quiet can do,’ he says, placing his own plate carefully down on the table, and leaning back on the sofa.
We sit quietly for a few minutes, but the companionable silence we’ve just eaten in seems to be morphing into something different. You could cut and layer this silence onto a piece of toast, it’s that thick.
‘You okay?’ he asks, his voice sounding strained.
I nod. I can’t get Ted’s words out of my head. This isn’t real. This friendship I have with Bay can’t be real because I’m hiding something. I need to trust him. But . . . I can’t bear to lose him, and that’s what would happen if he knew.
‘Tori, what is it?’ he asks quietly.
I can feel my tears building, and that deep, aching pain at the thought of losing all of my friends here. Bay reaches over and covers my hand briefly with his.
‘There’s so much you don’t know about me,’ I say, my voice thick.
Bay smiles. ‘I should hope so too.’
‘But talking to Ted today . . . I need to open up, I guess.’
Bay nods, looking thoughtful. ‘You know, there’s plenty about me that you don’t know too.’
There’s a look on his face that I don’t recognize. Is that nerves? Whatever it is can’t possibly be as bad as what I’m keeping secret.
‘For example, you don’t know much about my work yet.’
‘Okay,’ I smile.
‘Well, I’m pretty good at it,’ he says.
‘I bet!’ I say. I’ve seen the gardens here. I can see how much he loves what he does, even if it doesn’t exactly make him a go-getting high-flier.
‘There’s more to it than you think . . .’
‘I’m sure there is.’
I’m not sure where he’s going with this, but I’m too tired to get into anything serious right now.
‘Tell me something I don’t know about you,’ he prompts.
‘I’m tired,’ I sigh.
‘I already guessed that,’ he chuckles.
‘Can we d
o this another time?’ I ask, sounding a bit like a moody toddler.
The food has managed to offset my extreme drowsiness for a couple of minutes, but the longer we sit here, cocooned on the sofa, the more my eyelids are drooping. I don’t quite know how I manage it, but my head dips to rest on Bay’s shoulder.
Bay shifts a little next to me, and I feel his arm reach around my shoulders, pulling me gently towards him. I let out a sigh. I know this is the point where I should really sit up and move away, but I don’t want to. Instead, I reach across and take his free hand in mine, lacing my fingers through his.
His intake of breath is like a question mark hovering between us.
The question is, what do I want?
All I want, right now, is this. I want to thank him again for the food. For the company. For the friendship. But this is the point where my exhaustion finally body-snatches me, and my eyes drift closed.
*
I wake up with a start, then snuggle back into the arms wrapped around me and bury myself deeper into the soft mound of blankets.
Hang on. Arms? Whose arms? Where on earth am I?!
My head is resting on someone. Bay. I’m snuggled up in Bay’s arms, my face against his chest, and I’m pretty sure that that’s his hand resting against my hip. It feels so bloody lovely, I can’t help the pang of regret as I start to wiggle away as slowly and quietly as I can. Gently, inch by inch, I try to put as much space as possible between us, which is a lot harder than it sounds on this tiny sofa. Every movement makes me less comfortable, and I sigh. Why couldn’t I have just pretended to still be asleep and stayed put?
Bay’s eyes open. He stretches and sleepily comes to as I fidget away from him. He breathes in deeply and tightens one arm around me, undoing all my good work by bringing us face to face.
I hold my breath, my heart hammering as I wait to see if he’ll just drop back off to sleep. But his eyes are focused on mine, and I can see he’s just figured out where he is and with who. I shiver. I can feel every hair on the back of my neck stand to attention as Bay holds my gaze. Very slowly, not blinking, his face comes closer to mine, until he’s so close, his breath is tickling my skin. So close that we’re almost touching. I hold my breath again, waiting for him to cover that last tiny distance between us . . . but he doesn’t. He is completely still, his eyes locked on mine.
Slowly, very slowly, I close the gap between us until my lips gently touch his. And then I’m still, just letting this new touch flood through my whole body. Seconds. Minutes. Maybe an eternity. My whole world is focused in on the tiny contact that feels like the most important, most amazing thing ever.
We shift at exactly the same moment, and the kiss deepens. Our lips move over each other’s. My hands fight through the layers of blanket and slide up under his soft, moth-eaten T-shirt to rest against his skin. He cups my face and kisses me harder.
Chapter 28
Wish, Dream, Act
‘When we’re caught in the vortex of grief, loneliness or anxiety, we can lose sight of our dreams. Simple survival can feel like a super-human effort.
‘But, as we begin to heal, it’s important to start making wishes again, to dream new dreams and then – act.’
©TheBeginnersGuideToLoneliness.com
*
Bacon. It has to be the best smell in the world to wake up to. The salty aroma reaches me before I’ve even opened my eyes. I yawn and stretch luxuriously.
‘Morning, sleepyhead.’ Bay smiles at me as I struggle to sit up. ‘I come bearing gifts,’ he waves a grease-covered white paper bag under my nose and my taste buds cry out in longing.
All I want to do right now is hide in a slightly darkened cupboard and figure out what happened last night. I mean, I know what happened: we kissed on the sofa, and eventually tumbled off in a giggling heap onto the floor, then we kissed in Bay’s bed – for most of the night. It was wonderful, like being a teenager again. But what does it mean? I’m not quite so clear on that part.
I want to retreat, but there’s not much chance of that given that I’m still in his bed, and he’s just plonked himself down right next to me. I surreptitiously try to wipe away any traces of dribble and eye-snot and quickly figure out what I’m wearing. T-shirt and PJ bottoms are still firmly in place. I’m decent. At least that’s something!
‘How? How on earth . . . I mean? Where?’ I wave the paper bag at him, bacon fumes wafting deliciously in its wake.
‘I borrowed Frank and went on a clandestine bacon bap mission.’
‘For me? Just like that?’
‘Okay, so I might be making it sound riskier than it was. I promised Ted I’d do a grocery shop to help them out a bit – I just snuck in a quick stop for a bacon sandwich on the way back! Anyway, you said you wanted one.’ He laughs, peeling the paper off his own sandwich and taking a huge bite.
I can’t take my eyes off him. I feel a hot blush start at my toes and sweep right up through my body. I mean, I knew he had beautiful eyes and a nice bum and . . . and . . . Gah!
‘You’ve not turned veggie on me since last night, have you?’ asks Bay, one eyebrow raised.
‘No, no, of course not!’ I say, ripping into the paper bag. ‘Bay, I . . . we . . . do you . . . last night . . .’ I’m not really sure what I’m trying to ask him. I just need to know what he thinks about us, about last night.
‘What, Tori?’ he asks.
I swallow. I seem to have lost the power of speech.
‘Last night? Last night was . . .’ He pauses, and this huge smile spreads over his face. He doesn’t need to finish the sentence for me to know exactly what he thinks about last night, and a flood of warmth spreads through my chest.
He clears his throat. ‘What about you?’ he asks gruffly.
I stay quiet and look down at my sandwich. What about me? I’m excited and terrified and happy and I can’t wait to kiss him again. But that’s not what I say.
‘What about Than?’ I say quietly.
‘What?’ Bay looks like I’ve slapped him. ‘Are you serious? You want to talk about him? Now? After everything . . . ?’
‘No! No, that’s not what I mean!’ I feel a dead weight in my stomach. Nope. Not what I mean at all.
‘Then what, Tori? Because now’s not a brilliant time to drop another guy’s name, especially not that little f—’
‘I mean,’ I cut across him, ‘I mean, what if everyone thinks that I’ve just hopped straight from him to you?’
Bay sighs. ‘But there was no “him and you”, was there?’ he says, his voice gentle again. ‘As long as we know the truth and we’re happy, what does it matter what anyone else thinks? Not that they would anyway!’
I shrug. Of course they’ll think it.
‘If you’re going to take anything away from this place, Tori, you need to stop worrying about what other people think of you. It’s your life. You can live it exactly the way you want to.’
I swallow. And then nod.
‘So. What’s the answer, then?’ he prompts.
‘Last night was . . .’ I pause and smile. ‘I want to find out what this is,’ I say, pointing at him and then back to me.
‘Well then,’ says Bay, ‘what’s so bad about people knowing that?’
‘Nothing,’ I shake my head, ‘but there are things you don’t know about me—’
Bay laughs. ‘And there’s loads of stuff that I want to share with you too. We’ve got all the time in the world to get to know everything about each other.’ He leans forward and gently kisses my cheek.
‘Guys!’ Rowan’s voice outside makes us jump apart. ‘Knock knock!’
‘Don’t tell me you haven’t paid up for something?’ Bay mutters, jumping up from the bed and heading towards the yurt entrance.
‘Not guilty,’ I reply under my breath as I roll off the other side and quickly straighten my pyjamas.
‘Thank God you’re here,’ says Rowan as she bursts in. ‘All hell’s broken loose!’
Bay looks worried. ‘Is
Lizzie okay? And the baby? What’s happened?’
I move to stand next to him. I can feel the waves of worry coming off him, so I reach over and take his hand, which he grasps out of instinct.
Rowan raises her eyebrows, a smirk on her face. ‘Looks like you two’ve been having fun.’
‘Rowan!’ I squeak in horror, though I can’t help a smile escaping. ‘Tell us what’s happened. Is everyone okay?’
‘Oh, sure,’ she says. ‘Everyone else is fine. It’s you we’re worried about.’
‘Why?’ Bay asks, clearly as confused as I am, though the relief is evident in his voice.
‘There was this piece written—’ Rowan reaches into her back jeans pocket and draws out a folded printout.
‘Knock knock?’
This time it’s Ted’s voice, and Bay lets go of my hand and heads out to greet him. I follow closely, wondering what the hell is going on.
Ted claps Bay on the shoulder then turns to Rowan.
‘Back to the house. Now!’
‘Oh, come on, Dad, they don’t know anything. I was just going to fill them in—’
‘Now, Rowan!’
I wince at the sharp edge to Ted’s voice and realize that whatever this is, it must be fairly serious to cause this level of reaction.
‘Tori,’ he turns to me and smiles faintly, ‘you need to come up to the house. We need to talk.’
I feel a chill wash over me. What on earth is this all about? I look up at Bay and he takes my hand again. ‘I’ll come too,’ he says.
‘Actually,’ says Ted, raising an eyebrow at our clasped hands, ‘I need you to do me a favour, if you don’t mind? Could you go and find Russ and ask him to come down to the farmhouse? I need to talk to him and Claire before this morning’s session. I’d go find him, but I really need to speak with Tori first.’
‘Of course,’ says Bay. ‘You’ll be okay?’ He looks at me.
‘Yep, you go. I’ll catch you later.’ I smile at him and he squeezes my hand and walks away.
*
There, on the screen of Ted’s iPad, is a photograph of me. My face is tear-streaked and grimy, hair dripping, T-shirt soaked. This must have been taken during my disastrous trip to the river. Questions ping into my head: how? And by who? And what the hell am I doing on the Reflect Online gossip site?!
The Beginner's Guide to Loneliness Page 23
