Page 62 of The Cornish Cream Tea Holiday
‘Thea.’ Ben reached over Scooter and took her hand, his touch banishing the last of those unwelcome memories.
‘You were right,’ she said. ‘I haven’t been betrayed in that awful way, like you have, but I do know what it’s like to be seen as a fool, to have someone treat you as if your feelings don’t matter.’
Ben nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing. ‘I’m sorry that happened to you. Nobody should be treated like that.’ He shook his head. ‘I wish those boys at school, that Genevieve girl, could see you now.’
Thea laughed. ‘I don’t. I never want to go back there, but thank you.’ She squeezed his hand, enjoying the contact. ‘Esme helped me through the worst of it. And now I’ve got good friends, her and some other colleagues at the library;Alex, who has helped me so much with the business plan for my bookshop, who has been there when I needed him.’ It was Alex who had come to her rescue the year before, when she’d felt so vulnerable and alone, terrified of what was going to happen next. He’d diffused the situation, made her feel safe again.
‘Alex is a close friend?’ Ben asked.
‘Quite close.’ She should be honest about what had happened, but a part of her was still ashamed that she hadn’t been braver. And then there was the way her feelings for Alex had shifted after he’d intervened. Those weren’t things she could tell Ben right now – even though his mere presence was making her see her affection for Alex in a different light: as gratitude, rather than something deeper. All of it seemed too complicated, too self-indulgent, to explain to him in this moment.
He huffed out a breath. ‘Why can’t people just be kind to each other? What do they get out of being cruel, of belittling others? I know with Allie and Damien, they say their feelings took over—’
‘That’s so lame, though,’ Thea said. ‘Such a pathetic excuse. If they’d started to develop feelings for each other, Allie should have broken things off with you before they acted on it. They should not have sullied your kitchen counter – which I expect you built, and therefore deserved muchbetter treatment – with their naked asses!’
Ben jolted in surprise, his cough turning into a splutter, which turned into laughter.
‘What?’ Thea had been proud – and also a little surprised herself – of her speech. ‘What is it?’ Ben’s laughter was infectious, and soon she was laughing too. They woke upScooter, who stood and did several laps around the lighthouse bulb, barking excitedly.
When they had calmed down, Ben opened the last Tupperware box, and they bit into the chocolatey, gooey brownies he had bought from Sea Brew in town.
‘These are amazing,’ Thea murmured. ‘And they go well with the wine.’ She had a third of a glass left, the bubbles mostly flat, now, and she held it out to Ben. ‘One sip won’t hurt.’
He rolled his eyes, then took a sip and followed it with a bite of brownie. ‘That’s really good.’
‘See? Champagne and chocolate beats champagne and strawberries every time.’
‘I think you’re right.’ He handed her glass back.
He sighed again, though this time it sounded more content than annoyed. They swapped smiles, and the air in the room suddenly felt charged.
Thea knew Ben so much better than she had done when they’d arrived at the lighthouse, however long ago that was. It felt as if they’d been there for hours. She glanced at her watch and saw that it was after three. Ithadbeen a while, actually.
‘Ben,’ she said. ‘How long does the pathway stay accessible? I don’t know much about tide times, but I was wondering if—’
He whipped around, boxes scattering as he kicked them in his haste to turn, and then, stillness. All the hairs went up on Thea’s arms as she noticed the tension in his shoulders, then followed his gaze, back towards the pebble beach and the van: their route away from the lighthouse.
‘Fuck,’ Ben said.
Scooter whined and let out a single, sharp bark.
‘Fuck, fuck, fuck,’ he said again, as if he hadn’t made the point firmly enough before.
Thea had to agree. Because in front of the stony cove and the glossy trees and the pocket van, where before there had been a straight, narrow path, there was only churning, twirling water. There was no walkway left: the sea had swallowed it whole.
She should have panicked. At the beginning of the holiday, she knew that’s exactly what she would have done. She thought back to that first, lonely walk, and how she’d funnelled all her annoyance and trepidation about her solo holiday into those few hours. Not any more, though: not since sand sculptures and cook-offs and meeting Jamie bloody Scable. And not since Ben.
‘Looks like a bit more than a paddle,’ she said lightly, watching the frothing waves where, earlier, there had been concrete.
‘Fucking hell,’ Ben said, pressing a closed fist against the window. ‘I checked the tide times yesterday. I knew how long we had. I should have been paying attention.’
‘We got distracted. These things happen.’
‘They do?’ She could hear that he was angry, and his eyes flashed as he turned to her. ‘Getting stuck in an abandoned lighthouse because you’re not smart enough to set an alarm on your phone? Think this has happened to a lot of people?’
‘No, of course not. But that makes it unique.’
‘When you sayuniquelike that, you actually meanhorrible.’
