‘I’ve felt better.’
Carrie waited for him to elaborate or apologize. He ran his hand through his hair. ‘Yeah. Sorry about losing touch last night. I was so out of it, I can’t remember what happened, but I knew someone would look out for you.’
He’d left her there. He knew he had and he didn’t care.
‘I went home with Lola and Matt,’ she said, leaving out the part about being carried home. The odd snatch was returning to her. She remembered something about flying a kite…
‘Are you coming in the water today?’ Spike asked.
The sea was seething and boiling, the waves shifting and rolling, rather like her stomach had been. ‘Maybe not today, thanks.’
‘Like I’ve said already, in a few months you’ll start to get the hang of it. You might even get to stand up for more than a few seconds,’ said Spike with a grin she guessed was meant to be cheeky but just seemed guilty.
‘I’ll take your word for it.’
He seemed twitchy and picked up his board. ‘I’m going to catch some waves. Not every day you get surf like this; it’s too good to waste. I’ll see you tonight then?’
‘Maybe. Maybe tomorrow,’ she said.
‘I think you should know, I was planning on tonight being my last one here,’ he said casually.
So he was moving on already. She waited for the pang of regret, the twist in her stomach, but only felt a kind of freedom. Like she’d been scoured out and cleansed, though that could have been her hangover. He carried on. ‘I’ve been off work long enough so I can’t hang around here any longer. You should, though. You might even get Matt on a board.’
‘I don’t think so. I thought you said you were going to spend the whole summer surfing. I thought that was why you quit your job in the first place.’
He toed the sand, and Carrie realized this was the first time she’d ever seen him look anything other than totally sure of himself. ‘Yeah. I know it’s crap, but I’m twenty-eight. I can’t spend my life surfing. I need a job. A place to live.’
‘You said you used to work in an office and you hated it. What are you going to do back home?’
If it hadn’t been so tanned, his face might have turned red as he looked away at the sea and then, almost, back at her. ‘I was a tax inspector.’
Carrie burst out laughing but Spike didn’t. He looked like a schoolboy who’d been caught cheating. ‘Somebody has to do it,’ he said.
‘But a tax inspector? I just didn’t think you… You mean you worked for the Inland Revenue?’
‘So what? We all get shafted by society in the end. We all get in our family sedans and trundle off to the rat race. I can still surf at the weekends and holidays. So I’ll see you tonight on the beach? We can have a farewell party,’ he said, a wheedling note creeping into his voice.
Carrie knew he was hoping she’d sleep with him again. After what he’d done, he expected just to pick up where they’d left off. The scales had fallen from her eyes with a resounding clatter. Spike wasn’t a free spirit. He was selfish and shallow, and his world revolved around him alone. She didn’t want that; she deserved better.
‘Why not?’ she said, but she knew she wouldn’t be at the party. He leaned forward and gave her a salty kiss before jogging back to the sea, his board under his arm.
***
When she got back to the van, Matt was lying outside the awning, flicking through some medical journal. He was lying on his stomach, in shorts. His bronzed back was bare and his tattoos were startlingly obvious. They really were something, and she had a strange urge to reach out and touch them.
‘Had enough of the ocean?’ he said without turning round.
She dumped her stuff on the grass. ‘For today. You had enough of hunting mermaids?’
Flipping over, he propped himself up on one elbow. He had dark hair around his nipples, a trail arrowing down his stomach.
‘My friends are on the night shift at the hospital. They had to get back and get some rest.’
She sat down next to him and hugged her knees. ‘Matt?’
‘Yes, Caroline?’
‘Do you mind if we move on from here?’
‘What? Now?’
‘Yes. I’d like to see somewhere different. We’ve spent long enough here.’ She hesitated. ‘If that’s okay with you. I don’t want to ruin any plans you might have.’ She was thinking of Lola.
‘What about your plans for tonight?’ he said carefully.
‘I don’t have any plans for tonight. I’ve never had any plans other than to enjoy myself.’
Matt still didn’t know, of course, that Spike had asked her to stay one last night and that she had decided to pass on the invitation. She wasn’t sure why she’d decided to walk away, but it definitely wasn’t the fact that he’d turned out to be a tax inspector and more to do with his obsession with himself.
‘If we are going, I need to say goodbye to Lola first,’ Matt said.
‘Oh. Yes. Of course. I don’t want to ruin anything…’
‘She won’t mind,’ he said, pushing himself to his feet.
Carrie thought he was wrong and that Lola would mind very much, but it was too late now to withdraw the request. Maybe Matt needed to walk away too. But poor Lola… Could any relationship be simple? Couldn’t you just shag someone and forget about it? And if not, why not?
Chapter 25
Peace had broken out as they headed south through Devon and down into Cornwall. Slowly they’d wound their way round the creeks and inlets, beaches and fishing villages of the South West, ending up almost at Land’s End. They’d taken it in turns to drive and to choose the next day’s destination. Now they were lying on the beach in the late afternoon sun, drinking beer, when Matt’s phone went off. Carrie was pretending to be interested in one of Matt’s journals, but out of the corner of her eye she caught his mouth twitch into a smile.
‘Your nurse friends?’ she said casually as he texted back a message.
He laughed softly.
‘Brushing off their sexy outfits, are they?’ she said.
‘Unfortunately no. We all wear scrubs now. The short skirts and black stockings went out with Carry On, most unfortunately in my opinion.’
‘You’re just a pervert,’ teased Carrie.
‘Believe me, Stewart and Bryan would look crap in skirts.’
She sat up. ‘You didn’t say they were guys.’
‘You didn’t ask. You just assumed they were girls.’
Carrie couldn’t resist it. ‘Your eyes are twinkling…’
‘Twinkling?’
‘They do when you’re pleased about something.’
‘Carrie, I do not twinkle. Nobody twinkles.’
‘No. You definitely go all twinkly eyed when you’re pleased. Now you’re blushing too.’
‘And you’re bullshitting me,’ he said, annoyed at last.
‘Are you pissed off with me?’
‘I’m not pissed off, no. That’s not the word I’d use at all.’
‘Then what word would you use? Are you cross with me? Am I in trouble again?’ she teased.
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Are you saying you want to be in trouble with me? If so, I can arrange it quite easily.’
Carrie swallowed. Just in time she realized they were almost flirting. Just in time she caught herself imagining Matt in scrubs and nothing underneath. She bit her lip. Having a doctor fantasy was understandable if you were thinking about Luka from ER, but Matt? Yet she was prepared to admit that to some women, like Natasha for instance, he probably came across as broodingly sexy. Or maybe just moody. Turning onto her stomach, she idly flicked the pages of his journal, wrinkling her nose at some of the graphic photos of some bloke’s bunion surgery. Yuck.
‘This is truly disgustin
g. Do you really find all this crap useful?’
‘Some of it,’ he said slowly. ‘Do you find all this crap useful?’
‘Hey…’
He’d got her copy of Cosmo in his hand and was reading from it.
‘How to give any guy mind-blowing oral. If you want to know how to drive your man wild, we’ll tell you how. The tips, the techniques, the surefire ways of making him your slave forever. In your hands, he won’t be putty, he’ll be rock hard…’
‘Matt. Pack it in. Someone will hear.’
‘Let them. This is vital sexual health information. Everyone should hear it. Bloody hell, I didn’t know that actually worked.’
She snatched at the magazine but he’d whipped it away. ‘Give it back, please!’ she pleaded, as a middle-aged couple a few yards away stopped arguing and stared at them. On his feet now, Matt held the page aloft. ‘She did what to him? My God, I’ve been deprived all my life.’
Carrie leapt to reach it but he was too fast, and she started to giggle.
‘Oh… but no way. How disappointing. That one’s medically impossible. The anatomy’s all wrong.’
Carrie was laughing and squirming at the same time. ‘You’re making fun of me.’
‘And now you’re blushing.’
‘I am not!’
Finally he held out the magazine. ‘Really, I’m shocked at you, Caroline. This is truly obscene. Do you fancy going out tonight?’ he added suddenly.
Carrie was totally taken aback. ‘Where? To the pub? Clubbing?’
‘Not quite.’
‘Where then?’
‘Wait and see.’
***
‘Well, aren’t you going to say something?’
The truth was, she couldn’t take in the scene in front of her. It was beautiful, weird, surreal…
‘It’s a theatre,’ he offered helpfully.
‘Yes. I can see that.’
They were standing on a small stone platform at the top of a cliff above the sea, looking down on a theatre that had been literally carved out of the granite rock face. Steep staircases plunged down between the aisles and benches, where grass served for cushions. The seating, the stage, even a little Juliet balcony, had all been hewn from the solid rock. The backdrop was the Atlantic Ocean, wild breakers crashing on the rocks below the stage as gulls screamed overhead.
‘It’s incredible,’ she said at last.
‘Incredible good or incredible weird?’
‘Hard to believe that there’s a theatre at all. This place is just so wild.’
Matt was amused. ‘I can’t believe you’re an actress and you’ve never been here before.’
‘I had enough trouble persuading Huw to come to my performances, let alone go to a theatre for pleasure.’
‘Yes. I can imagine that. I can’t see my old mate here either, but it’s a shame you’ve never been. On a fine night, when the sun’s going down, it’s a pretty good place to be.’
‘I wouldn’t have thought it was your kind of thing either. I thought the only entertainment you were interested in was who could pee farthest up the rugby club wall.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong. Mum used to bring us here when we were on holiday in Cornwall. We pretended we hated it—which we did, of course—but when I got older, I came back a couple of times without having my arm twisted.’
Carrie had to admit that the round stage, bare and inviting, was almost making her drool. ‘Do you think we can take a look?’ she asked.
He glanced at his watch. ‘I think they’re closed to visitors. There’s a show tonight, but maybe we can sneak in. Come on.’
They’d managed to duck under a rope barrier and get halfway down the steps when a loud voice behind them boomed, ‘Excuse me, can I help you?’ A woman in a voluminous velvet kaftan cast a stern eye over them. ‘You can’t go down there. The theatre is closed.’
‘We only wanted a quick look. We’ve come all this way, you see, and we’re going home tomorrow,’ pleaded Carrie.
The woman’s face was as stony as the cliff face. ‘It’s out of the question. Sorry.’
Carrie didn’t think the woman looked at all sorry, but Matt climbed back up the steps and started talking to her in a low voice. After a few nods, the woman pursed her lips and said grudgingly, ‘You have five minutes, and believe me, I shall be counting every second.’
Matt grabbed Carrie’s arm. ‘Quick. Come on.’
‘What did you tell her?’ she asked as they trotted down the steps to the stage.
‘That I was going abroad on a dangerous mercy mission but first I needed to propose to you on the stage of the Minack Theatre.’
‘You said what!’
He shrugged. ‘It was the only thing I could think of at the spur of the moment. Just make sure you look happy on the way back up.’
She forgave him when she stood on the stage. The atmosphere was sending actual shivers up her spine. She imagined the stone seats packed with people, felt the heat of the lights on her skin, heard the gasps and laughter and applause, the stamping and shouting of the audience. Matt was standing behind her, his breath warm against her neck.
‘Carrie, I need to tell you something,’ he murmured behind her.
She tensed instinctively as his arms encircled her body, then forced herself to relax. Watching them intently from her perch, the kaftan woman would be expecting a performance. She and Matt had better make this convincing. ‘I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you this for ages,’ he whispered in her ear.
‘Is it something I’ll like?’ she breathed, getting into character and enjoying herself more than she wanted to admit.
‘It’s something important… but it’s awkward.’
‘What do you mean, awkward?’
‘Well, it’s not an easy thing for a man to have to say to a woman.’
He was overdoing it now and she hoped he wasn’t going to take too long. His arms were helpfully warm against her bare skin, but the hairs were tickling her.
‘Matt, can you get on with it, please?’ she said briskly.
‘But, darling, I’d hate to hurry this special moment.’
She tried not to laugh. ‘I think you’re just hamming it up now.’
He spun her round to face him, his face stricken with anguish. ‘Hamming it up? Caroline, this is serious. Don’t you know how I feel about you? How I’ve longed for this day?’ He pulled her against his chest, banging her nose against his breast bone.
‘Ow!’
He thrust her backwards, gripping her arms. ‘Oh Caroline, sweetest, don’t tell me I’ve hurt you.’
‘You bashed my nose, you twerp,’ she said, rubbing the tip.
‘I got carried away. It’s just that… I haven’t told you what I need to say yet.’
Reaching up, she broke his grip. ‘I think I can guess.’
He winked theatrically. ‘Perhaps not, Caroline.’
She grinned cheerfully. ‘Goodbye, Matt. I hate to hurt you, but I’ve decided to leave you. And by the way, don’t give up the day job.’
‘Okay. But I only wanted to tell you that you snore.’
‘I do not snore!’ she said indignantly.
‘I’m afraid you do. Just a tiny bit. Nothing that can’t be solved by a spot of ENT surgery. It’s not my forte but I can have a go with the vegetable knife if you want.’
She threw up her hands in disgust. ‘Matt, thanks for showing me the theatre. It was a nice thing to do but you are still a git.’
As she stomped up the steps, the woman was looming, her kaftan billowing in the breeze.
‘So that’s a no, then?’ called Matt.
‘Sod off!’ shouted Carrie.
‘Don’t leave me, Caroline, I can’t live without you!
’
Kaftan woman gave an outraged gasp as Carrie passed. ‘Are you completely off your head, young lady? You don’t deserve a good man like that. He’s as fit as a butcher’s dog, and if I were you, I’d have him up the aisle and into bed before you could say Jack Robinson.’
Chapter 26
It was after midnight as they sat drinking shots at the table inside the van. Carrie was still buzzing from the show. They’d managed to get two last-minute tickets for A Midsummer Night’s Dream. The performance had been breathtaking, played out against the setting sun and the stars. As the final scene had come to an end it had begun to rain, so they’d dashed back to Dolly and fallen inside, laughing and damp. Now they sat wrapped in towels round the little dining table. Matt lifted the vodka bottle and pushed a bumper bag of crisps towards her.
‘Not for me, thanks.’
‘What, no vodka?’
‘No more crisps. I’ll have another shot, though,’ she said, holding out her glass.
‘So you enjoyed the play?’ he asked as he filled it.
‘It was amazing. That setting was just made for A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Mind you, I didn’t think much of Bottom, and Titania was a bit over the top.’
He shook his head. ‘And you’d have done a much better job?’
‘Abso-bloody-lutely. I’d have been fabulous, darling.’
His eyebrows shot up. ‘Really? I thought Titania was cute.’
‘You would. She’s just your type.’
‘And what type would that be?’
Carrie stifled a tiny burp. She knew she was slightly pissed but she didn’t care. That was what being slightly pissed was all about.
‘Well, let me see. I’d say that your type could be summed up as drop-dead gorgeous. Long legs, long hair, voice that sounds like Kate Middleton.’
He rested his chin on his hand.
‘I’m right, aren’t I? I can see I’m right because you’re trying to look enigmatic. You do that when I’m right. And this time I can tell. I’m absolutely spot on, Minty darling.’
‘I think you need another drink.’
She pointed a finger at him. ‘So I am right. You just don’t want to admit it.’
Carrie Goes Off the Map Page 14
