Page 96 of Lessons in Love at the Seaside Salon
She nods.
‘Can I come with you?’
He’s wearing sneakers too. How convenient.
‘Sure,’ she says, because she can hardly say she doesn’t want him to – he’s Sam’s brother, she’s still working with Sam, so she has to be accommodating even as she resents doing it. ‘I was just going to set off,’ she says. ‘No fixed destination.’
‘Even better.’ He smiles as if he means it. ‘I love a ramble.’
She can’t help laughing – who uses the word ramble any more?
‘Sure,’ she says again, then turns in the direction of the beach, which is down the hill and a nicer walking prospect than up the hill. The walk will take them by the salon, but it’s past closing time for a Saturday so they won’t risk running into Sam.
‘So why did you come to see me?’ She needs to know.
‘I wanted to talk about Sam.’
Her blood runs cold. Funny how quickly thoughts manifest in the body. How they can change you so fast there must only be a millisecond between hearing something, reacting to it, then feeling it.
Cold, yes, she’s cold. Because she can’t imagine what Oliver is about to say to her, yet there’s no way it can be good. There’s no way it can be something likehe really loves you after all.
‘I’m really sorry,’ he says.
They’re walking slowly, so it wouldn’t be dramatic to stop right then, except she doesn’t know if she wants to look at his face. See the pity there. Because pity was in his voice.
‘About what?’ she asks.
‘He told me …’ Oliver sighs. ‘Told me you had some feelings.’
‘Oh god,’ she breathes, wanting to turn around and run back to the house.
‘He was upset. He thought he’d led you on.’
‘He did!’ Since the topic has been raised, she’s going to run with it. ‘He was so nice to me!’
Glancing at Oliver, she sees him frowning.
‘You thought that meant he was keen on you?’
‘Of course. Men just aren’t …’ She stops.
‘Just aren’t what?’
She doesn’t respond.
‘Just aren’t that nice unless they’re interested, is that it?’ He sounds sad.
Of course, he’s included in that. He’s always been nice to her and he was interested in her for a while.
‘Not usually.’
‘You must know some badly behaved men,’ he says softly. ‘Most men I know aren’t like that.’
‘Then maybe you know better-than-average men.’ Now she stops and turns toward him. ‘What are you doing here? What do you want?’
The street sounds so quiet while she waits for him to respond. No cars going past. The occasional bird noise. No wind to move the trees.
‘I wanted to apologise.’
