Page 35 of After the Rain
My date with Aidan had been a slice of heaven. He took me into the city and to a gorgeous hole-in-the-wall tapas restaurant. I had the most sublime selection of small plates I think I’ve ever had, although I steered clear of too many carbs, not wanting to derail Aidan’s plans to ‘fuck me silly’. After dinner, we had walked along the river, like we often did at home, although it had a very different feel in the city. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and held me close as the pavement got progressively more slippery in the freezing temperatures.
Then, to top off our evening, we went bowling. Something I haven’t done in literal years. Aidan put my name as ‘Baby Boy’ on the screen, so I shoved him out of the way and took my revenge by putting ‘Dirty Daddy’ for his name.He had howled with laughter when he saw it before scooping me up and kissing me silly right there next to the terminal.
Aidan won, obviously, and then we headed home. Corey had been fast asleep on the sofa with Pax curled up next to him. Neither of them moved when we came in, although Pax did at least look up at us in acknowledgement. And Aidan did in fact, fuck me silly.
Aidan told me to take some time off work, which I felt bad about, but he and his brothers reassured me it was more important to spend time with Corey. So, I did. We went for walks, for lunch a few times at Poppy’s, where he met Poppy and Wren. As I had suspected, Corey slotted into the group like he’d always been there. I borrowed Aidan’s massive Land Rover, since Wren had basically written off my car at this point, and we drove into Norwich so Corey could get some new clothes and toiletries. He also got a bit of a makeover, wanting to shed his old skin and the memories associated with it. The last thing he purchased was a new phone – a cheap pay-as-you-go one that I suspect are all the rage with drug dealers the world over.
Over an almost two-week period, we did not a lot of much, but it felt like everything we needed to really cement this fledgling friendship that had never been allowed to really take flight before. Corey began to relax, and as he did,his snarky personality, which I had always assumed was the real him, faded into almost non-existence, and this soft, gentle side of him was exposed to the world for what felt like the first time. I loved it even more than his snark and sass.
Aidan and I went out a few more times, and I spent a lot of time in the studio. I had been excited to show it to Corey after he’d settled in, thinking he’d love to use it too, but he had said, very emphatically, that he never wanted to see another pole in his life and walked out. I didn’t take him there again.
On the 23rdDecember, Eve Eve, as Aidan and his family referred to it, Aidan tells me that Ladybird is finally ready for her maiden voyage. I check that Corey is OK to walk Pax, and he agrees happily. It seems that Pax has now transferred his allegiance to someone else.
A few hours later, after lunch, Aidan and I wrap up in warm clothes and head out to ‘test’ Ladybird. Wren came over for lunch, too. She and Corey, having hit it off like a house on fire over the last couple of weeks, will be heading to ‘Eve Eve’ at the pub together, and we will join them there later.
Aidan grips my hand tightly as we walk along the quay heading towards where Ladybirdis tied securely to the mooring ring. She looks majestic now that she’s in the water. The red tones of the wood she’s made of gleam under the winter sunlight as it reflects off her smooth coat of varnish.
Aidan supports me as I step onto the boat, then follows me a few seconds later with two slightly soggy ropes coiled in his hands. He tosses them onto the rear deck and starts the engine of the boat. I know we will need to motor up the river towards the Broad to actually sail – at least that’s what Aidan told me on our way out – and so I’m happy to just sit on the bench to the side of the cockpit for now.
Before we start getting underway, Aidan loops a navy blue life vest over my head, fastening the cinch belt around my waist, before kissing me gently on top of my head.
“Safety first,” he says with a grin.
“Where’s yours?” I ask incredulously.
“I’m not going to fall in.”
“Neither am I!”
“You might.” Then he starts to manoeuvre the boat away from our quay heading and out into the river. I’m staring at him open-mouthed in shock – I thought he said this was safe – when he bursts out laughing. “You’ll be fine, baby, but I’m not taking any risks. The rivers are only aboutsix feet deep, but the Broads themselves are a lot deeper, and in the winter they’re a bit choppy and cold as fuck.”
I tighten the vest and squish myself into the corner of the bench as close to Aidan as I can without getting in the way of the, erm, steering stick? I can’t remember what he called it when he told me about the boats that first time. Oh well. Regardless, I know that Aidan will keep me safe, despite his terrible jokes that I’m sure only he and every single dad on the planet find amusing.
We meander under the chugging sound of the motor up the river, the dark water beneath the hull creating a rhythmicthunk thunkagainst the boat and a gentle up-down rhythm for our journey. Aidan sat at what I am reliably informed is called the tiller – aka steering stick – looking serene and at home as he controls the direction of the boat with ease. His gaze sweeps over the riverbanks as we cut through the gentle waves of the manmade waterway, taking in the swaying boughs of the many weeping willow trees that hug the waterline. I’m distracted from the scenery by the sight of Aidan, but when we come across a collection of black and white ducks with this cute Elvis-style quiff on their heads, they draw my attention.
“Oh my god! Look at these guys!” I lean over the edge of the boat excitedly. I genuinely can’tremember the last time I saw a duck, let alone one that looks like Elvis!
“They’re tufted ducks,” Aidan informs me. “And if you look over there” – he points to the reedy bank on the left side of the river – “can you see him?”
I squint in the direction he’s indicating. It takes me a few seconds, but then I see him. Standing proud and so very still on the very edge of the bank, one leg tucked up under his large, grey body, is a heron. What the fuck? How is this place even real? It’s the middle of winter – don’t birds, like, migrate? “Ohmygodheisamazing.” My words rush out as one on a foggy breath, and I can’t take my eyes off the majestic bird. He looks like a king – a real king – holding court over his subjects, a rabble of fake-kings dressed like Elvis. As we approach, in one smooth movement, he launches off the ground with a contained power that you would never expect from his skinny legs, opens his wings, and stretches his neck forwards as he takes off and flies over our heads. I know my mouth is wide open as I lean my head back almost impossibly so I can watch him as he disappears behind a line of trees. I turn back to Aidan to find him watching me with an indulgent smile on his face.
“I just found my new favourite bird,” I say, my voice quiet as though any volume abovean almost-whisper will destroy the magic left behind by the heron. Aidan leans forward and takes my lips in a sweet kiss.
“I love you, baby.” I smile at him warmly before taking my seat again and continuing to watch the front of our boat as she glides through the water. After about fifteen minutes, Aidan manoeuvres the yacht through a narrow cut in the riverbank, past a black sign with white lettering indicating Black Horse Broad. We motor through what I can only describe as a tunnel created by the leaning trees on either side of the water, and we pass a derelict metal gate that has clearly not been used in several years. Aidan tells me about how a rich landowner years ago installed the gate to block off the Broad behind it to the public boaters who used it for sailing and fishing, claiming that, as he owned the land beyond the Broad, he owned the Broad itself. Apparently, a group of local boatyard owners and sailing clubs took to their boats in protest, breaking through the gate and reclaiming the Broad for public use as it was intended. Like a Norfolk Broads version of the mass trespass.
I gape at him in surprise at this weirdly daring tale and can’t help but feel proud of these historical men who said no to rich men taking what they want at the expense of others. If there were a few more people like that these days, theworld might not be in the unbelievable shitshow it is now.
I turn back in the direction we are heading, and as we emerge out of the tree-tunnel and onto the Broad itself, I can see why it was so important to keep this place available for people to access. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so breathtaking. The Norfolk Broads are inherently flat, and so there are no towering mountains or rolling hills and plains stretching over the horizon. Instead, there is just an open expanse of rippling water, small white tufts on each wave whipped up by the wind that blows so much stronger in the open, and an audience of trees bowing to us in the breeze as we pass. The sense of space, openness, and peace in this place is… I don’t even have the words. I look back at Aidan with a soft smile on my face. He smiles back.
“What do you think?” he asks like an artist asking my opinion on his latest masterpiece.
“Aidan, I think this may be one of my new favourite places in the world.” His smile broadens, and I stand and gingerly move over towards him as he shuts off the engine. He hauls me into his arms and wraps me up, his spicy oud and amber scent filling my nostrils.
“I’m glad you like it. This is my favourite place in the world, too. Even more so now you’re here with me.” I reach up and kiss him, my armswrapped around his waist. We’re both wearing so many layers that I can’t feel the shape of him, and my gloves are so thick I can’t touch him, but it doesn’t matter. I know the shape of him, the feel of him. Just being close to him like this is all I need in this moment.
“So,” he begins, “shall we get the sheet up and have a sail?” I nod nervously and then follow my captain’s orders.
Twenty-Six
