We strolled barefoot across the beach, not getting too close to the rolling waves that frothed into foam. Jet skis zoomed towards the shore and shot out to sea again as though they were attached to elastic. I felt the prickling heat of sunburn on the back of my neck, but I also felt something else. Comfortable. Something I’d never truly felt with Roxanne, with her constant obsession with her appearance. With my appearance. Making me change before a night out if what I was wearing didn’t complement her outfit.
‘Shall we head up there?’ I pointed to a slope that led off the beach.
In unison, we turned. Our bodies were close as we strolled, arms almost brushing. I could have stretched out my fingers and taken her hand, but I didn’t.
We paused when we reached the path. Brushing the sand from our feet before slipping our flip-flops on. Hers were silver and sparkly. Mine were from Primark, white and plastic. Roxanne would have been horrified.
A row of kiosks selling postcards and buckets and spades provided a strip of shade and we stepped into it thankfully, welcoming the kiss of warmth rather than the beating heat.
A man approached us and thrust a clipboard under Anna’s nose. Pushed a pen into her hand. He tapped twice on the sentence at the top of the form written in broken English. Some sort of petition to keep open a school for deaf children. Anna glanced at the man, confused. He placed his hands over his ears.
‘You’re deaf,’ Anna said.
He nodded. Moved a hand to cover his mouth.
‘You can’t talk?’
He shook his head.
Anna’s expression was one of sadness. ‘I’m so sorry.’ She spoke slowly. Clearly, exaggerating each word with the movement of her lips. ‘What do you need?’
He twisted his fingers, signing things we didn’t understand.
‘I can’t… I don’t know sign language,’ Anna said.
The man tapped twice on the sentence again, this time with force. The clipboard bowing in Anna’s hands. He slid his finger down to a blank space before pointing at Anna.
‘You want me to sign my name?’
He nodded. His hands making circles as though there was more.
‘My address?’
He nodded again. Tapped the paper too hard. He was getting my back up now. He might be deaf but that was no excuse to be rude and intimidating.
‘You don’t have to—’ I began but Anna had begun scrawling out her details.
Anna Adlington.
‘Good luck.’ She handed the clipboard back to him with a smile. She began to walk on but he put a hand against her shoulder, stopping her. He rubbed his fingers together, the universal sign for cold hard cash.
‘Oh, you want money!’ Anna’s cheeks spotted pink. ‘I’m so sorry, I don’t have my bag. Adam… do you…’
I did have my wallet but I wasn’t giving anything to this tosser with his aggressive attitude. It was probably a scam.
‘No, I don’t.’ I took Anna’s arm and went to walk away but the man blocked my path.
‘Listen, mate.’ I straightened my spine. ‘We’re not giving you any money, understand?’
The man began to shout, angry words, and despite the language barrier I could guess what he was saying.
‘Back off.’ I held up my palm, shielding Anna with my other arm. We hurried away.
‘He lied,’ she said quietly. ‘You really can’t trust anyone.’ I could hear the crack in her voice as she spoke and I knew she was thinking of whoever had hurt her, just as I was thinking of Roxanne.
‘I’d better get back to Nell.’ She wouldn’t meet my eye and began to hurry away.
‘Anna.’ I hesitated as she paused. Unsure what I wanted to say. That not all men are bastards. That I’d never hurt her. Lie to her. That rejection was raw for me as well, that I understood; finding Roxanne in bed with her boss, her legs wrapped around his waist while a band of pain tightened around my heart. There was so much I wanted to say but I didn’t say any of it. Instead, I asked, ‘I’d very much like to have dinner later. With you, I mean. You and me having dinner together. What do you think?’
It was crazy to ask. A holiday romance wasn’t on the agenda. A quick fling wasn’t my style and I had plans for after this fortnight. A new life waiting that wouldn’t accommodate a relationship. But still, in that moment we felt all kinds of right for each other. I didn’t know then that we were all kinds of wrong for each other.
I didn’t know, while I waited for her answer, that I should, perhaps, have walked away.
Chapter Five
Anna
‘No, I can’t have dinner with you,’ I had said when Adam first asked me out. But as he turned away, I caught both his ‘sorry’ and the sight of the pink tinge of sunburn on the back of his neck and he seemed vulnerable somehow. Not brash like his friend Josh. There was no way I was looking for a holiday romance but I felt mean. Ungrateful. He had, after all, saved my life. Stepped in front of the not-deaf deaf guy when he was beginning to scare me.
‘Adam, wait!’ I had called. ‘Yes. Yes, I’ll have dinner with you.’
It was just one meal to say thank you. Nothing more.
We opted to sit on the terrace just in time to see the last glow of sunlight slipping behind the ocean. Fairy lights spiralled around the pergola. Candles flickered on every table. The beach was swallowed by night but we could still hear the gentle lap of waves. Taste the salt carried by the warm breeze. It was relentlessly romantic right down to the musician perched on a high stool, gently strumming on a guitar. Honeymoon-perfect, except a virtual stranger was the one topping up my glass.
Except, despite only knowing him for a few hours, Adam didn’t quite feel like a stranger.
This is not a date.
I had been studying the menu for far too long, my stomach fluttering with nerves. It was natural I’d feel on edge; I’d almost drowned earlier, but each time I raised my eyes and caught sight of Adam I felt… something.
‘Are you ready to order?’ The waiter hovered around our table for the third time, pad and pen poised.
‘I’ll have a crab salad, please.’ I can’t remember the last time I ordered anything other than salad on a date.
‘You’re getting a bit porky, Anna. Think of our wedding photos.’
Except this… this wasn’t a date and the restaurant smelled so delicious – garlic and oil and herbs. Did I really want a plate of leaves? If I had died today, I wanted to have lived my life. Loved my life. I wanted to be remembered for being kind and happy and fun. Not the girl who never let herself go because she was trying to lose the same ten pounds over and over again.
‘Sorry, can I change my mind?’ I quickly scanned the menu again. ‘I’ll have a paella with a side order of tomatoes stuffed with feta and spicy chorizo, and could I please have some bread and olives while I wait?’ I lowered the menu, my shoulders stiff with the expectation of disapproval on Adam’s face but instead he smiled.
‘That sounds great. I’ll have the same, please.’
We both watched the waiter until he disappeared back inside.
My mouth was dry. I picked up my glass and took a long drink of sangria, watching the other diners. The couple staring so deeply into each other’s eyes that they probably didn’t register the chink of cutlery on china, the low murmur of conversation. The elderly lady eating alone, a paperback propped up against a jug of water, eyes straining to read by candlelight. A widow? A family of at least three generations seated at a long table across the terrace. A ‘Happy Golden Anniversary’ balloon tugging against its string.