Page 58 of Take Me Away

Nina gives me a sideways glance. ‘I guess he was different before. When you knew him.’

‘We were both different,’ I reply. ‘Young. Stupid. Full of impossible dreams.’

‘Were they, though?’ she asks. ‘Impossible? You achieved yours.’

I swallow hard. ‘Some dreams cost more than they’re worth,’ I say finally.

Nina squeezes my arm gently but doesn’t push. I like her more and more. As we approach the cottage, she changes the subject. ‘Tom and I are heading to the Ship tonight for a drink. You should join us. I’ll even come up and help you hobble down there.’ I glance down at the steep winding road that leads to the harbour and the hub of the local community.

‘Oh, I don’t know…’ The thought of facing more villagers, more curious eyes, more whispers makes my stomach clench.

‘It’ll be low-key. Just me and Tom, and maybe Peter, if he docks in time. You remember the Ship on a Tuesday night – practically empty.’

I hesitate, then nod. ‘Okay. Sure. Thank you.’

‘Great!’ Nina beams. ‘Around eight?’

‘I’ll be there.’

‘Are you and Tom…?’ I begin, then stop myself. ‘Sorry. None of my business.’

Nina laughs. ‘Me and Tom? God, no. Tried dating once in sixth form and nearly killed each other. He’s like my brother.’ She winks. ‘Besides, he’s not my type. Too nice. I’m with Peter.’

‘And Peter?’

‘Just the right amount of complicated.’ She grins. ‘Been seeing him for two years. He’s a fisherman who’s been helping with the research station on the point. He’s with Kit on the RNLI, deputy mechanic; he’s brilliant with engines. Better than Kit, and Kit thinks he’s the bollocks.’ She laughs and shakes her head, pink spots brightening her cheeks, and I’m thinking engines might not be all Peter is good at.

‘I think he’s going to ask me to marry him.’

‘Wow.’ This brings me up short. Married? Wow. She must be a year or two younger than me. But then I guess she’s not in a goldfish bowl where the rags are announcing your upcoming nuptials every time you meet a guy for brunch, or telling the world you’re pregnant just because you’re a bit bloated after a big breakfast. ‘Would you get married in the church at Pencross?’ As a child I thought that would be the most beautiful place to get married. It brings me up short not knowing if Kit married Jessica there. I think that would be the final crack in my damaged heart if they did.

‘No. He’s a druid.’ She snorts a laugh at my expression, which I’d imagined was one of those alarmed but composed faces I’ve pulled many times over the years. Normally on a readthrough of a full script for the first time and I realise it’s utter shit, but the contracts are signed, ink dry. ‘Kidding.’

I roll my eyes but then look up to see we are already at the cottage. I can’t remember the last time I had a real conversation. Only with Piper, and let’s be honest, she’s normally scheduling and multitasking as we do.

We reach the gate, which gives its welcoming creak, and I’m relieved to see the cottage still standing, although what I’ll find inside, who knows. ‘Thanks for the escort,’ I tell Nina, and I really do mean it. I try to smile in a way that doesn’t make me look desperate for a friend. ‘Maybe see you tonight.’

‘Rest that foot!’ she calls, waving as she heads back towards the village.

I’ve barely made it to the door when the sound of feet catches my attention. Someone running. Fast. Instantly I think it’s paps. My retreat of solitude is over. But turning, I spot Kit jogging up the lane, his cheeks a little pink, along with the tip of his nose. His wild waves of hair are windblown and tangled.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ he demands, slowing down at the gate and striding towards me. From the corner of my eye I see Nina slink away. I feel like asking her to take me with her.

‘Going home?’ I suggest, gesturing to the cottage I’ve safely made it to.

‘You walked. On that foot.’ His voice is tight with something that sounds suspiciously like concern disguised as anger.

‘I’m fine,’ I say. ‘It’s feeling much better today. And anyway, you said,’—I’m getting louder, the back of my neck prickling with heat—‘“She’ll be fine.” See, I’m fine.’ My eyebrows must be in my hairline. Well, they would be if my Botox allowed it.

He runs a hand through his hair, fingers snagging on tangles. ‘Isla, for fuck’s sake, that’s not what I⁠—’

‘What you meant? Well, Kit, lesson here. Things sound the way you want them to. Maybe think on that.’

‘I didn’t think I needed to offer. I assumed you had enough sense not to hike around on an injured foot. I only took Maisie to school and got some nails for the roof from Cal.’

‘Well, I made it, didn’t I? And I’d hardly call that hiking.’ I jangle my keys pointedly as I turn and glance back down the lane to the house with the fish knocker. I can’t deal with this, his moodiness, the whiplash of emotions. ‘And nails for what roof?’

‘I’m fixing your roof.’ He says it like it’s obvious.