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PAISLEY
Conner acts more and more cagey as the hour rolls towards lunchtime. We usually just rest at home, grateful to duck the full strength of the midday sun, but it’s gone past noon, and he keeps dragging me from one store to another, not buying anything, not even really looking, but continuing to insist on shopping at just one more place all the same.
I give up wondering what he has in store for me. Over the past year, every surprise he’s ever sprung on me has been a delight. From the meeting with a writer whose work I devoured like I’ve been starving for years, to the purchase of a hot pink scooter so I don’t exhaust myself travelling the winding roads of the seaside town.
He checks the time on his phone with ever-increasing frequency until I roll my eyes so blatantly, he catches me in the act.
“Or you could just tell me,” I get in before he can say anything, whereupon his lips seal even more tightly.
“Do you want a glass of wine?” he asks oh-so-casually as we stroll near a seaside tavern. “They probably do a nice bar snack, too.”
“We’ve got food at home.”
He picks me up and swings me in a circle, before popping me back on my feet. A dizzying ride that makes my head spin with enjoyment. With every passing day that separates us from his old life, he becomes more playful.
For years, he had a great weight pressing upon his shoulders and now he’s finally unfurling, becoming the joyful, observant, delightful man he should always have been.
“Perhaps instead of saying do you? I should have said, I would like to have a glass of wine in this delightful seaside tavern on the dot of twelve thirty, thank you.”
I roll my eyes. “Well, when you put it like that, who could say no?”
He laughs and drags me inside, leaving me blinking with the sudden change from brilliant sunshine to a dimly lit bar. I’m halfway to the counter before I realise there’s someone sitting there.
Someone whose strawberry blonde curls look familiar.
“Marnie?”
She turns around, giving a shriek of joy and runs over to hug me. “Finally. I’ve been sitting here for ten whole minutes, wondering if you were going to show.”
“But…” I hug her back, then stare at her face, noting every change. “How did you get here?”
“Well, it was quite an adventure, I’ll tell you. I had to walk five minutes from my hotel.”
“You’re staying here?” I dance from foot to foot with happiness. “But why didn’t you tell me you were coming? When did you arrive? How long are you staying?”
I grab hold of her again, the hug harder to maintain this time because I’m bouncing on the balls of my feet. “Conner!” I shout, turning to grab his arm and drag him closer. “Look who it is!”
“Wow. Imagine meeting you here,” he drawls, looping his arm around my waist. “Who’d have guessed it?”
And a gigantic puzzle piece clicks in my head until I slap his arm. “You knew? You knew, and you didn’t tell me she was coming? Bad fiancé. You’ll be sleeping on the couch if you keep this up.”
“He’ll be sleeping on the couch because I insist on staying the night and talking to you for hours,” Marnie says, with a tinkle of laughter.
There are deep pain lines scored around her mouth, but the lighter sketched trails lifting from the corners of her eyes speak about more recent improvements.
“That’ll make a change from you texting all night,” Conner says dryly, guiding us to a table by the window. “I’d say you have so much to catch up on, but you’re barely out of touch as it is.”
“Texting is not the same,” Marnie says, and I laugh in agreement.
“Notat all.”
We chatter through the meal, our food growing forlorn with the scant attention we pay to it. Once we’re finished, Conner takes his leave to ‘walk along the path and check out a few shops,’ allowing us to catch up without distraction.
“You both seem happy,” Marnie comments with a raised eyebrow. “Thought you’d get sick of him by now.”
“Sure. His gorgeousness is really wearing on my nerves,” I say with an accompanying eyeroll. A gesture I don’t make often but which is already straining my facial muscles and will probably continue to give them a workout as we continue our breathless conversation. “What about you? Anyone special?”
