by Gister, TY
Oh God, maybe it'll still be on the chair. Oh no! Of course it won't, I'd told those other people they could sit down. Oh no! What if they've read it? Crap, all my personal stuff, my sad and sorry existence is bleated out in that bloody book. Worse still, what if they handed it in to Cath or passed it round and they all had a bloody good laugh at my expense?
Shit, shit, shit! Do I pretend it's not mine? Do I ask about it? Do I laugh it off? Could I laugh it off? Now I'm not looking forward to the walk at all. What the hell am I going to do? Oh my God and that last entry about making love with all the lusty details! How desperate will they think I am? Then I try to reason that maybe no one has looked inside and that it might have simply been handed in. Is that possible? Can you pick up a book and not open it, especially one you come across when you're not expecting it? Of course you bloody can't.
Totally gutted, I pull on my jacket. I'm really not in the mood for a walk and small talk now. I try to put it out of my mind but I can't. Shutting the door behind me, I head off to the ensuing humiliation that I have no option but to face.
Chapter 6
I can see from a distance that Lawrence is sat outside, perched on the low wall to the left of the cafe entrance. He looks effortlessly handsome and despite my churning stomach, I can't help but be pleased to see him sitting there waiting for me.
"Morning, How are you?" He moves to greet me, European style, with an air kiss on both cheeks. He smells lovely but I'm still preoccupied by the thought that my innermost world has been blasted to possibly public scrutiny and ridicule.
"Morning. Good, thanks, well sort of."
"Sort of?" He looked concerned.
"Oh, I think I left my journal here yesterday."
"Your journal? Oh I .."
"Was it handed it in?"
"Um, not as far as I know. Let me check with Cath." He disappeared inside, and seemed genuinely concerned. He looked more gutted than I did. Well at least he hadn't found it and wouldn't think of me as a total fruit loop, loner and a loser. Why on earth had I written all that stuff? It's my own fault, I should have kept my writing at home.
"Sorry, Laney, nothing has been handed in. You sure you left it here?"
"Yeh, I was writing in it yesterday."
"Do you want to look around for it? Are you Ok to go for a walk or do you want to leave it? I can see you're upset."
"There's not much point looking, if it's not been handed in. I'm sorry, I might not be very good company but the walk will probably do me good."
We started off towards the beachfront.
"I thought you were writing a fictional story."
"I am. But I got into the habit of keeping a journal a few months ago and find it, I don't know, strangely comforting I suppose. Or at least I did. The thought of someone poking their nose into my inner world is not one I'm particularly comfortable with. I never intended to share it." Lawrence was quiet for a while and didn't seem to know quite what to say.
"The people that were sitting down as I left must have found it. God knows where it is now. For all I know they could have chucked it in the bin, or worse taken it home and had an entertaining evening peeking into my sad and sorry life."
"Is it sad and sorry?"
He looked really gutted and I suddenly felt bad for going on about it. This was supposed to be a fun morning, a nice walk getting to know each other and a light hearted chat. Not me moaning on an on.
"Well yes and no. Probably the same as most people. I don't suppose many of us have a perfect life."
As we rounded the corner, we were greeted by the welcome blast of the sea breeze. Breathing in deeply, I felt the rush of cool air swirl its way around my head and lungs.
"That's better."
"Mmm."
He seemed very quiet and a bit uneasy somehow. Poor guy, he was probably thinking this was a bad idea now. Right, time to stop being selfish. There's bugger all I can do about it now. As he hadn't seen it, whoever had picked it up, didn't know me and there was no way to connect what was written in there to me, although it was annoying, no real harm was done. I can certainly try to ignore it for now.
"I'm sorry, I'm not usually like this. It's just things in there were a bit personal and I'd be devastated to find out someone had read it. But there's nothing I can do right now. Let's just have a decent walk. How long is it since you last came down?"
"Just after I got married."
Great! Married! This morning is going from bad to worse. Hardly a surprise though, that someone had snapped him up, he seems a lovely guy and handsome, lucky girl. Trying to not look too bothered I ask "How long ago was that then?"
"Six years ago, so yeh, it's been a while." He stopped walking and turned to look out at the billowing carpet of waves.
"My wife died 3 months ago and Cath has been pestering me to come down for a break."
"Oh Lawrence. I'm so sorry, I had no idea. That's terrible."
My problems seemed so insignificant and I felt even worse now.
"It's OK. Elizabeth had been ill for several months but well, it still takes some getting used to."
He paused and I could see from his eyes, he was close to tears. There was a rocky recess at the base of the cliff, nodding towards it, I said, "Let's sit there for a bit and watch the waves".
We sat there for quite some time. He told me all about Elizabeth, how her health quickly deteriorated soon after her diagnosis. How they'd had a good relationship but it hadn't been great. They had been friends for a long time and had decided to marry but there was never a deep or passionate spark between them, rather a comfortable glow and they had both realised a couple of years ago that they should have stayed as just friends but neither wanted to hurt the other. He was gutted she had died so young and that he had seen the life draining away from her.
At some point I had taken his hand, initially stroking it, it must have been an instinctive reaction but when I did become conscious of it, I didn't pull away and neither did he. It felt right. He had talked and cried and talked some more. Now we sat silently, watching the odd passerby and the shiny pebbles appear and disappear under the watery foam. He shifted, pressing his hands firmly to his face, wiping them across his cheeks. He sounded a bit better as he sheepishly smiled, "Look at us two, a right solemn pair."
Stretching and standing up, he said, "Come on, that's enough doom and gloom. Let's go for that walk." He held out his hand and smiling I took it as he helped me up.
It was almost two o'clock before we got back to the cafe. He seated me at an outside table before heading inside. It had turned out to be a lovely walk. I felt really close to him. I was honoured he had been so honest about his relationship and feelings and he had listened to me talk about my past. He had been genuinely interested in how I felt and asked lots of questions, without probing or fishing. He was interesting to listen to and was funny, we seemed to have several similar areas of interest. He had spent long holidays in France as a child. He had a wonderful accent I noticed as he mimicked the people in the village he had stayed in and even had the gestures and expressive body language down to a tee. It might not have started so well, but it was one of the nicest walks I've had in years. You'd think we'd known each other for years.
"Thought you might be hungry, I know I am." He put the tray down on to the table, loaded with two giant mugs of hot chocolate and a rustic toasted ham and cheese sandwich each.
"Mmm, that looks really good."
We ate and chatted and laughed. We had both built up quite an appetite and it didn't take long for the sandwiches to disappear, leaving two plates of crumbs.
"I've had a really good time today." I said as I emptied my mug. "Thank you."
"Yeh, so have I."
He looked like he was going
to say more, but Cath was coming towards us, empty tray in hand ready to clear the outside tables now the lunchtime rush was over.
"Hey you two, how was the walk?"
"Really good thanks." I answered.
"I'm sorry to interrupt but I need to get to the cash and carry before four Lawrence, will you be OK to cover for me?"
"Yes sure." He answered.
"Great, I'll take these in and then head off. There's no need for you to go Laney." Cath added.
"No, please stay, I'll get us another drink, it's not too busy, I can keep an eye on the place from here, that's if you want to stay that is?"
"Yeh, that'll be nice. I can always give you a hand or something anyway."
A few minutes later, Cath was on her way and Lawrence was busy making a fresh pot of coffee. We spent the afternoon chatting, serving coffee and cake. It was more enjoyable than I would have thought, Lawrence took the orders and I ferried full and then empty plates and cups back and forth. In the quiet spells, we'd wipe down surfaces and still be chatting and laughing, it was amazing how well we got on, effortlessly falling into our respective roles and working really well together. When Cath returned she insisted I stay for dinner and later that night after the last customer had gone, all four of us sat and enjoyed an expansive bowl of pasta and some really good house wine. It was lovely to be welcomed so naturally and completely into their family unit. By the end of the evening and two bottles of wine later, we cleared up, leaving Joe's kitchen clean and clear for it all to begin again tomorrow morning for breakfast.
Picking up my coat and making to leave, Lawrence insisted on walking me home and I had no intention of declining. I loved being around him. There was something in him that reminded me of me, it was as if a part of me recognised him, I felt that when we were together I was more me than at any other time. The real me.
"I've had a really good time today. Thank you. I haven't had such a nice time for ages."
"I know. Me too." After a brief pause he took my hand and said "I feel really close to you and I'm sorry about how this morning started."
"There's no need to apologise. God, I understand. Besides I'm glad you shared it with me. Life's not much fun sometimes is it?"
He stopped walking and pulled me towards him " No, but sometimes it's amazing."
Cupping his hands around my face, he kissed my lips with such tenderness. Wrapping my arms around him, feeling his warmth and strength, we kissed harder and longer. This was one of those magical moments you remember forever, when your heart smiles, gently blowing new life into your world. A door was opening that had been closed for so long.
We walked the rest of the way home, not letting go of each other, pausing every now and then to kiss, sometimes gently and sometimes not. It was really quite late as we approached my door, wondering what might happen next I fumbled for my keys.
"One more kiss before you go." Part of me was disappointed that he didn't want to come in as we could easily have spent the night together but the bigger part of me was pleased at his restraint. There is nothing more attractive than an honourable man. We made arrangements to see each other the next day.
Closing the door behind me, I think my heart might explode, my smile spreads from ear to ear and might easily wrap twice around my head. I'm suddenly wide awake, elated, surprised and most of all genuinely happy. There's no way I can go straight to bed. A cup of tea and some rubbish TV is what's required, so I can calm down and run through the day. My smile doesn't go though and when I do finally get to bed, sleeping is difficult. I can imagine the warmth of his body, next to me, his strong arms and gentle kisses. Tossing from side to side, I'm still smiling but eventually drift off.
The rest of that week is like stepping into a different life. I feel vibrant and alive. Something I thought had probably died in me, has been reignited, and I love it. I love feeling this way. We share common interests, yet we are different people. Our differences seem magnetic; almost pulling us closer together, it's as if two independent souls have merged into one, both of us feeling complete and whole. This feels like the real me, the person I always felt I was inside but who just couldn't break through somehow. My lips can't help smiling and as they do, I feel the energy in my chest simultaneously reach out and in. My heart had been tightly sealed away, until now.
Still lost in my blissful thoughts I head down towards the cafe. Not a day has gone by without us seeing each other and we've grown closer and closer.
Suddenly a blur of black, brown and white flashes past, obviously headed back home after a beachy walk. I smile, thinking how nice it must be in doggy world. Just mention the word 'walk' and it's not just the dog's tail that wags, it's as if their whole body ripples in pleasure and anticipation. They totally have that 'be in the now' thing sussed.
"Bruce! Bruce!"
Bruce comes running back, heading towards the approaching owners. I'm impressed at his obedience, less impressed by his name though, when suddenly he deviates to come and say hello to me. "Hello you! Aren't you gorgeous." He's really quite cute and his head and ears are so soft.
"Oh. I'm sorry. Bruce get down!" clicking her fingers, the lady owner reaches out to grab his collar.
"Don't worry. He's lovely."
"Oh hello again." I obviously looked a bit puzzled. The woman was now holding Bruce who was very eager to get going again "We took your table as you were leaving the other day. I recognised your rucksack"
Suddenly embarrassed, remembering my journal I wondered what she might say next.
"Was that your book we found?"
"Purple cover?" Oh God, here we go.
"Yes. We didn't see it straight away and we thought it might belong to you but we didn't see what direction you went in so we handed it in." She seemed genuine and down to earth, it didn't look as if she'd had chance to read it. There was no knowing look in her eye. I really shouldn't be so sceptical about people, expecting the worst.
"Thank you, where did you hand it in?"
Frantically wriggling now, the woman let Bruce go again as she also started to move on up the hill.
"To the waiter, at the cafe he said he would give it to you when he next saw you."
The waiter? There was only one waiter, Joe never crossed the kitchen boundary and there was only one other person it could have been. Why hadn't he mentioned it? In fact he had downright lied about it. Why would he do that? My beautiful bubble had just burst.
I manage a weak smile and a "Thank you" the woman moved on, waving "No problem."
But this is a problem, a big, gaping, stinker of a problem. I reach out to hold on to the nearby wall. It's as if all my strength has been zapped from me. A plug has been pulled and I'm swirling downwards. A million thoughts swim round and round in my head. How could he do that? Why would he do that? Why would he lie and why keep hold of it? Was he stringing me along? But no he couldn't be. Had he read it? Of course he must have bloody read it!
Leaning back fully on to the wall, I feel the warning sting in my eyes that I know I won't be able to hold back. I turn and head back home as the tears start to fall. My world now a complete contrast to just a few moments earlier. Whatever hopes I had started to hold on to about the two of us, had just been let go, like a fistful of balloons, released and separated.
I'm not sure what hurt most, the thought he'd been reading my journal, why else would he keep it, if he hadn't read it? Or the fact that he'd lied to me about it and was still lying about it. Yep it was definitely the lying. Not knowing quite what to do with myself, I slump onto the bed, sitting upright for a few seconds and then falling back to cry some more. I'm gutted. How can you think you know someone, and yet not know them at all?
A few minutes later, a text comes through, it's Lawrence, wondering where I am. At some point we will have t
o have this out. But not right now. I turn the phone off neither wanting nor able to speak to him. I ignore the door bell when it rings twenty minutes later too.
At some point I'd fallen asleep, exhausted. It's almost lunchtime as I look at the clock. I'm not hungry at all but I need to get out and get some air. Grabbing my coat , I set off in the opposite direction for a change, to the fields beyond the town. Stepping over the wooden stile, I follow the path. Walking helps me put things in perspective usually, I don't care about that right now, I just need to be outside. The field path winds softly and slowly up to a beauty spot, giving a great view of the town, the sea beyond as well as a large chunk of the south coast.
At the top, I turn to look at the view. At least nature is a constant, it's season's may change but there is a kind of honesty about it; it is what it is and does what it does. It never tries to be anything other than itself. Walking has shifted my energy. My feelings of shock and despair are turning into anger. By the time I make it back to town I'm ready to confront Lawrence.
Chapter 7
Heading straight for the cafe I'm keen to get this sorted. Striding past my own front door I'm only a few minutes away when I see him turn the corner, coming this way. He waves, looking pleased to see me and quickens his step. Standing still, I watch his frame, his apparent pleasure at seeing me, it looks so genuine, so real. How could he be lying to me?
"Hi Laney, you ok? I've been worried about you? Where were you this morning?"
In his eyes I see genuine concern, confusing me even more. Was I overreacting? Was he that good at lying? Am I that crap at reading people? Sadness and disappointment sweep over me, temporarily flooding my anger. I have never had any interest in playing mind games. Looking directly into his eyes I simply say.
"I'd like my journal back Lawrence."
Ashamed, he hangs his head. At least he wasn't going to deny it. He's about to start speaking but suddenly the anger in me surges back again. I don't want to hear it. "No, Lawrence, no more lies, no more pretending. What, did you read it and feel sorry for me? Is that what you've been doing? How could you? Why the fuck would you do that? "
