Page 48 of The Cornish Cream Tea Holiday
‘No,’ she murmured. ‘No, it was – I deserved it, for the splash.’
‘Probably,’ he said, his voice quiet and low.
Thea felt suspended in time, as well as in the sea. She could see individual droplets on Ben’s skin, the pink of his cheeks beneath his tan more intense with the water reflecting the sun up at their faces. She wondered if her expression was as heated as his, if he was thinking that the moment felt like a dream, that it was heavy with possibility and promise, that it could lead to—
‘Sorry!’ The shout came at the same time as a beach ball splashed right next to them, making them both jump, and lose their grip on each other.
‘No worries,’ Ben called, throwing the ball back to the group of girls it had come from.
He turned back to Thea with a wry smile, and held out his hand. Thea took it and followed him towards the sand, her feet soon finding the seabed. She felt a momentary pang as she lost the weightlessness of the water, and then, when it was only up to their knees, Ben let go of her. She fell slightly behind, marvelling at his lean, strong back, and wondering how many times she would replay the moment in the water before she got bored of it. She realised there were other pairs of eyes – a lot of them female – following his progress up the beach.
They lay on their towels, Scooter only slightly stubborn about relinquishing Ben’s to him, and let the sun dry them. They sipped their Pimm’s while Thea gave Ben a full rundown of her encounter with Jamie Scable and then,because she didn’t want to sully such a glorious afternoon, told him about the first time she had been to Port Karadow, aged ten: the way she and her dad had snuck out of the B&B like absconding teenagers; the copy ofTiger Eyes;the fish and chips.
‘My mum’s very highly strung,’ Thea explained, ‘so a headache is always a migraine, a problem is always a crisis, an opportunity is always a once in a lifetime chance.’ She laughed, because it was easy to view her mum’s behaviour with equanimity when she felt so far removed from it.
‘What about your dad?’ Ben asked.
‘He’s the opposite. Quiet and modest, prefers getting things done without making a fuss.’
‘So you’re more like him, then?’
‘I think so,’ Thea said. ‘Mum wanted me to be her mini-me, and I think she’s still disappointed that I didn’t live up to it, to the name Theophania: that I’d rather read a book than go onstage, or run a PR company, or become a superstar in whatever field I choose.’
‘That must be hard,’ Ben said. ‘But you’re taking control, doing your own thing. Doesn’t she realise that opening and running a bookshop is pretty fucking impressive?’ He laughed and sipped his drink, orange slices bobbing on the surface.
‘I haven’t done it yet,’ Thea pointed out. ‘It’s not glamorous enough for her, but I accepted that a long time ago. What about your parents? Are they still around?’
‘Alive and well and living near Ullswater. I speak to them quite often, but haven’t been back since I moved here. I’m hoping they’ll come and stay as soon as the house is in a fit state.’
‘You don’t fancy a visit home?’ Thea asked.
Ben shook his head. ‘Not right now.’ There was something about the way he said it, the tightness that crept into his voice, that suggested going any further down that line of enquiry would dampen their perfect afternoon. And to her, it was pretty much perfect. The hilarity and good-natured bickering of the sand sculptures, meeting Charlie and her friends, the delicious cream tea, followed by this: talking to Ben, soaking up the sun and drinking Pimm’s, the views of the water and the man beside her a feast for the eyes. That moment in the sea, that had set off all kinds of sensations inside her, none of them remotely unpleasant.
She lay back on her towel and sighed contentedly, deciding that if she did nothing else on this holiday – if every day was her and Ben on the beach, with sand between their toes and sun kissing their skin, slowly finding out about each other – then it would be one of the best holidays of her life.
‘Should we be getting back, do you think?’
‘Mmm?’ She had been close to dozing, the backs of her eyelids orange as the day produced another Instagram-worthy sunset. They’d had two jugs of Pimm’s between them, and even though Thea knew they kept the concentration low at these mobile bars, she was feeling the effects. ‘I suppose so.’ She opened her eyes and gave Ben a lazy smile.
‘Come on.’ He pushed himself onto his knees and pulled his T-shirt over skin that had bronzed easily. He looked so delicious – almost as edible as the cream tea earlier – that Thea didn’t know if she could stand it. He held his hand out.
‘OK,’ she said, taking it, letting him pull her to standing. They were close, him looking down at her, her gazing up. ‘Thanks,’ she murmured.
‘No problem.’ They were the same words he had said to her, over and over again, the day he’d fixed her bed, made her breakfast, taken her on a hike. But there was so much more warmth in them now: understanding, knowledge and friendship, from their shared time and conversations. He was smiling at her, reaching out to brush sand off her forehead …
‘Do you think we could do this every day?’ she whispered. ‘Come to this beach, talk and swim and sunbathe? I was going to read my book, but I haven’t even opened it.’
‘Sorry about that,’ he murmured, but he didn’t sound sorry. Thea realised how kissable his lips were, and how much she wanted to take a step forwards, into him, so he had no choice but to wrap his arms around her or lean down to meet her upturned face with his. ‘We can do the beach again another day, if you want.’
‘I’d love that,’ she said. ‘I’d love to do this again, with you.’
He nodded, swallowed, and then, to her utter disappointment, took a step back. ‘We should get going. Get home, drink about three litres of water.’
‘Go to bed,’ Thea added.
She’d meant it entirely innocently, because her limbs suddenly felt heavy, and she was imagining laying her head against her soft pillow, closing her eyes while the gentle sound of the sea lulled her to sleep. But when she met Ben’s gaze there was an inferno burning in it, a flash of fire so hot that, for a moment, she was worried she might melt. But then he looked away from her, she saw his Adam’s apple bob, and then he was all business – rolling up his towel,packing away Scooter’s water bowl, helping Thea find her shoes, which were half-buried in the sand.
They strolled back to the twin cottages, the beach sounds receding into the distance.
