Page 26 of The Island Girls

‘And when you’re not busy doing historical, archival things,’ Rebekah said, realising the cider had already affected her grasp on vocabulary somewhat, ‘what else fills your time?’

She was expecting something to do with relationships and part of her was actually expecting the news that he had a wife and family in London. There was no reason why he shouldn’t, after all. She was just a ranger whose door he had happened to knock on in the middle of the night, and no more than that. Just a bonus tour guide he’d spent the day with.

She froze as he studied her face and she felt the warmth of his eyes watching her. He picked up his cider and took a long draught before putting it down carefully on the beer mat, straightening it as he did so.

‘I live alone in London. There’s no one special in my life,’ he said, and watched her to see her response. She smiled a little and nodded. She too lived a solitary life, with no one special. She knew exactly what he was telling her.

‘But that doesn’t mean I’m alone in the sad sense,’ he went on. ‘I keep pretty busy. Ah – here’s something I haven’t told you yet: I play violin,’ he said with his eyebrows raised, expecting her comment.

‘Really? Now that is something I would never have guessed. I’m not a bit musical myself, although I do love to listen. Do you play in an orchestra?’ she asked.

‘Regularly, I’m part of a small one yes: a chamber strings group. I’m one of the four violins. Nobody important,’ he said with a wink. ‘But occasionally, I join with others as and when needed, sometimes in a bigger orchestra or sometimesmuch smaller – just a quartet. So that’s what generally fills my weekends and some of my evenings. And I practise several nights a week as well. I live in a detached house, so the noise doesn’t bother anyone,’ he added with a laugh, turning to thank the waitress who had placed their meals on the table before them.

‘Did you study music as well as history, then?’ she asked him.

‘Yes, and no,’ he said with a frown. ‘I started a music degree – was accepted into the Royal College of Music in London, which was no mean feat. The audition process is one of the most rigorous in the world. And I studied hard for three years. But,’ he said, with a deep sigh, and teasing his temples with his thumbs as if a pain lurked there, ‘but in the summer holidays between my third and fourth years, my mum was diagnosed with cancer. I deferred my final year so I could spend more time with her.’ He paused, but Rebekah knew there were no right words with which to fill the space.

‘But she didn’t recover. And afterwards, I just seemed to lose the joy, and couldn’t find it again. Eventually, I had to choose something that I might make a living from, so I studied history, and here I am,’ he said with a bright smile that belied the pain in his eyes.

‘I’m so sorry, Paul. You’ve lost so much. But you didn’t stop playing?’

‘I did stop. For three whole years, I never picked up my violin. But then one day, I had just moved into a new flat, and everything was a mess. I had my violin in my hand, and before I realised what I was doing, I’d taken it out of its case, given it the tuning of its life, and was playing again. I’d grown rusty, naturally, but it all came back soon enough – as did the joy, at long last. But that took years.’

‘You didn’t want to go back and finish your music degree?’ Rebekah asked, clearing her plate and taking a sip of cider.

‘I did think about it, but by then I needed to concentrate on paying the rent and I just didn’t have the time. But I was well enough regarded to wiggle my way into some community players’ groups, and eventually into some more highbrow quartets and so on. But it is just for fun – I’m not considered professional, of course, without the degree and the status that comes with it.’

‘And I suppose a violin is easy to carry around London on the Tube?’ Rebekah asked.

‘Absolutely. I’m so glad I’m not a double bass player – that’s such a weight to heft around. You can’t even fit it into a normal car.’ He laughed.

‘What’s the next thing you’ll be performing?’ asked Rebekah.

‘I’m doing a concert of theFour Seasonsin a couple of weeks, just a smallish affair in some function rooms in Westminster,’ he added nonchalantly.

‘Oh wow! That sounds incredible to this little Australian,’ she joked. ‘How wonderful. I’m not at all arty but I do enjoy watching and listening to anything that anyone else does in the form of arts. And Westminster!’

‘Yes, I suppose it does all sound a bit romantic to someone from as far away as Australia. But do you know, I was disappointed that my first university experience was only in Kensington? I grew up in Notting Hill and so I didn’t even get to leave home to go and study. Most of my schoolfriends went further afield for university, and never lived at home again. I just caught the Tube in!’

‘It all sounds like something from a very romantic movie script to me.’ Rebekah laughed. ‘Did you know we have Shakespeare plays on the island? They hold them every summer, and it’sAs You Like Itthis year. That’s something of a romantic script too, I suppose.’

‘Yes, I did see the set-up for all of that yesterday. Crumbs, was that only yesterday? It seems weeks ago now,’ he said, confirming what Rebekah had been thinking all evening.

‘They do a different play every year. Next Saturday night is opening night,’ she added, but the moment the words had left her mouth, she regretted it. She felt that it sounded like she was asking him to join her, and she really didn’t want to sound that forward. He ate on in silence for a while, catching up with Rebekah, and she would have given a ransom to know what he was thinking.

Eventually, she broke the silence.

‘What time are you heading off to London in the morning?’

‘I have to be out of the hotel room by ten, so the plan is to just drive home in the morning. I have a rehearsal at four in the afternoon, so I need to be back by then,’ he said with a look that she took to mean he regretted it and would rather spend the day with her. She only thought for a second before launching out with her hopes.

‘That’s a shame. We could have come to see the castle tomorrow if you were free,’ she said, wondering how fixed his 4p.m. rehearsal was.

‘So many things to stay here in Dorset for, but I suppose I’ll just have to leave them for another time.’

Rebekah nodded, accepting that this was it. He would be travelling home in the morning, and she would likely never see him again.

She noticed a couple who were seated a few tables away. They sat opposite each other and as they ate, they continually but subtly touched each other. One would reach out to stroke the other’s hand, or their knees would touch under the table. As they put down their cutlery, they reached across the table, holding hands. She watched Paul finishing up his meal and wondered what it would feel like to hold his hand. To have him reach out totouch her. She sighed. But she didn’t want to be in a relationship anyway.

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