Page 45 of Happily Never After
‘Are you going to tell me?’
‘Not yet. I’ve got the broad-brush strokes of it, but not the detail.’
We lapse into a comfortable silence for a little while, before Finn unexpectedly laughs.
‘What?’ I ask.
‘I was just thinking. There I am, wrestling with a concept for a daytime TV show and thinking how difficult it is, but it’s a walk in the park compared to the tangled web you’re having to weave. Do you have one of those collages stuck to your wall at home, by any chance?’
‘What collages?’
‘You know. There are pictures of suspects, maps, news articles and stuff, and then random bits of string going from one to the other, usually with a big red question mark somewhere.’
I smile. ‘You’ve been watching too much TV, and no. I think Liv would chuck me out if I started doing stuff like that.’
He chuckles again. ‘Yes, from what you’ve told me about her, she probably would.’
We fall back into silence as we cover the final part of the journey but, when we reach the end of the track that leads to L’Ancien Presbytère, Finn pauses, turning to face me.
‘I’m a little nervous about what we’re going to find down there,’ he admits, letting go of my hand and removing his sunglasses. ‘But I wanted to say thank you for this morning. It’s been a welcome break from the shitfest.’
As I look back at him, the sunlight catches his blue eyes, making them sparkle. For a moment, everything outside the two of us seems to fade into insignificance, and I briefly wonder whether to hug him again. The truth is that I’ve enjoyed this walk much more than I expected to, and it’s not just because it’s given me a respite from the deeply unpleasant atmosphere in the house. The long hug on the bridge, followed by the simple act of walking along, hand in hand with Finn, has relaxed me in a way that I never could have expected. There’s no tension across my shoulders or any of the other usual places. I feel languid, as if I’ve just had a long massage. The conversation, on the other hand, has sharpened and focused my mind, and I can feel ideas fizzing in my brain, eager to find their way onto the page later today.
‘I think it’s me who should be thanking you,’ I tell him honestly. ‘This has been really good for me.’
‘Same time tomorrow?’ he asks.
‘On one condition.’
‘Which is?’
‘Tomorrow we brainstorm your show.’
‘It’s a deal.’
17
‘I wonder if you’d like to do something different tomorrow?’ Finn asks as we return from our now regular morning walk a few days later.
‘What did you have in mind?’
‘We’re at the halfway point of the retreat and, while I may not have found the thing that’s going to sell this show, sitting in the garden going over the same options while the Double-Doubles give me death stares every time they pass is not proving very fruitful. You seem to be making good progress, so I wondered whether a day out might be fun.’
I stop walking to look at him. I’ve come to really value these early-morning strolls together. We generally alternate between trying to come up with something that’s going to make his auction show stand out, and me explaining what’s going on in my story. Thankfully, Gina seems far too busy fighting with Tess over her edits to bother with Finn and me beyond the odd pointed remark, which naturally means Suzie and Grace are broadly ignoring us as well. Even Lynette seems to have lost interest; I wasn’t best pleased with her for ‘outing’ me to theothers, and I think she picked up on that and realised I wasn’t going to be her playmate any more.
All of this means that Finn and I have formed a kind of bubble away from the others. We walk before breakfast, sit together at the bottom end of the table for mealtimes, and meet up regularly through the day for tea and coffee breaks. I’ve found that I’m enjoying both the routine and his company. He may not be Henry Cavill, but his personality more than makes up for that. I’ve come to love the way his eyes light up and his speech quickens when he’s excited about something, usually because he’s had an idea that might dig me out of a plot hole. His enthusiasm is genuinely infectious, but he’s also a really good listener and sounding board. I’ve already decided to include him in the acknowledgements for this book, but I still wish I could return the favour by helping him unlock the USP for his show. Unfortunately, although I am devoting some time to it, I’m hampered by the fact that I know very little about auctions and even less about daytime TV.
‘A day out,’ I repeat, shielding my eyes from the sun with my hand as I look up at him.
‘Yes. I could do with a fresh perspective, and I thought different scenery might help.’
I smile. ‘And what’s in it for me? What’s my motivation in this scene, as the actors say?’
‘A day off to reward yourself for working so hard and making such good progress?’
It is a tempting idea. My shady spot in the garden of L’Ancien Presbytère is lovely, but it would be a shame to spend all my time there without getting out and seeing some of the surrounding countryside, particularly as I went to all the expense of hiring a car.
‘Did you have somewhere specific in mind?’ I ask him.
