Page 49 of The Cornish Cream Tea Bookshop
‘Back,’ she said immediately. ‘It’s where I’m most comfortable.’
‘You were a back of the bus girl at school?’ He put his rucksack down and took off his trainers. ‘I can see that about you.’
Ollie laughed. ‘Busted. Though it was a little country bus, going from rural Yorkshire into Scarborough, and there wasn’t a whole lot of rebellion.’
‘I thought I detected a hint of Yorkshire in your accent. You can sit down, stretch out.’ He gestured to the mat next to his.
‘Oh! Yes.’ She pulled off her hoodie and shoes, and sat on her mat. Her matching yoga top and leggings, bought just before she’d moved to Cornwall, were black with large, shimmery gold stars all over them. They had promised herultimate comfort and precisionwhile performing the most demanding yoga poses. Sadly, she hadn’t got much further than mountain pose and downward dog, and now, looking around, seeing Max in his navy joggers and loose grey T-shirt, the other attendees in their distinctly un-flashy outfits, she felt like a total plum. Still, if there was one thing she prided herself on, it was her ability to style it out.
‘You look great,’ Max said, his hand resting on hers so briefly, she thought she must have imagined it. She realised he hadn’t said it to be flirtatious, but because, somehow, he could see her hesitancy, the realisation that her outfit suggested a level of competency she couldn’t live up to, and had wanted to reassure her.One flaw,she said to herself.Let this man have one flaw, or it’s going to be very hard for me not to follow him around like a smitten puppy.
‘Right then,’ said the curly-haired woman, who she presumed was Janine, from the front of the room. ‘Ready to get flexible and find some inner peace?’
‘Yes,’ Ollie said, her voice rising above the others. Inner peace was something she could sorely do with right now.
‘From here, we’re going to transition into crow pose. That’s right, you know what to do. Strengthen your elbows, press your knees either side of them, and then … lift your feet off the ground. One by one if you need to.’
Ollie was crouching, bent forward, but now she was supposed to lift her legs off the floor, with only her straightened arms supporting her? She hopped a couple of times, her nose angling towards her mat, but it seemed like something her body was fundamentally opposed to doing.
She looked at Max, and saw that he was doing it. His arms were lean but strong, the rest of his body positioned as if he was about to dive-bomb into a pool, but raised from the ground. Only his hands were on the mat, but there was no sign of strain in his face; he looked genuinely serene.
Ollie couldn’t help thinking about what he’d told her in the pub: what he’d had to give up, because his heart had become inflamed. It was a silly way to think about it, she knew, but if there was anyone whose heart seemed fully functional – stronger and healthier than other people’s, even – then it was Max.
‘I don’t think you should do this one,’ he said. There was a faint tremble in his voice, the only sign that he was exerting himself.
‘I don’t think Icando this one.’ Ollie bounced her feet up once, twice. It seemed impossible.
‘No, I mean because of your shoulder. It’s not strong enough. Don’t hurt yourself, Ollie.’
‘OK,’ she murmured. She knew he was right, even though she had wanted to keep up with the class. Her shoulder had started to ache the moment she’d lifted a foot off the floor. She sat on her mat and took a deep breath instead, pushing away her frustration. She had loved that aspect of the class; using the full capacity of her lungs, which she was sure she never did day to day. ‘How are you still doing that?’ she asked Max.
‘I’ve been coming to this class for over a year.’
‘And this time you get to look after me, too.’
Max put his feet on the mat. ‘You should never push through an injury, however much you think you’re capable.’
She nodded. ‘Thank you. I feel like I’ve had an extra tutor helping me. I got JanineandMax.’ She smiled, but even though he returned it she saw a flash of something else cross his face: was it sadness? Regret? Shit. He couldn’t train people anymore, and he had clearly loved it.
‘Max, I’m sorry,’ she whispered, as Janine instructed them to lie on their backs for the last part of the class.
‘What for?’
‘For saying that. It must be hard—’
‘Nothing to apologise for,’ he whispered back, and reached over the space between their mats to squeeze her arm. His palm was hot, and even though Ollie was sweating, she welcomed his touch. As they finished with a period of calm breathing, lying on their backs on their mats – which seemed like an endeavour in not falling asleep – she wondered if there was anything Max could do that she wouldn’t welcome. That, in itself, was not an entirely welcome thought.
‘Let me buy you a coffee before we go back.’ They had returned to the hotel’s reception, where a small queue at the desk suggested some people had been wise enough to escape for a calming break before their festive to-do lists kicked in. With these surroundings, the beach and the sea, the hot-tub perched on the cliff outside, who could blame them?
‘Sounds good.’ Max gestured to an opening off the foyer, where Ollie could see metal chairs and tables, a cosy-looking bench in front of the huge, sea-facing window.
‘This is gorgeous,’ she said as they stepped inside. The room was opulently furnished, with brightly coloured cushions on the chairs, a gleaming bar along the far wall, and gold and ruby garlands hanging from the ceiling. There was a tree in the corner adorned with matching baubles, and the room seemed to shimmer with warmth and possibility.
‘Where do you want to sit?’ Max asked.
‘The window seat, obviously.’ A waiter was with them in moments, and they ordered cappuccinos and a plate of festive Florentines. ‘Big question,’ she said. ‘Does the coffee here live up to Sea Brew’s standards?’
Max smiled. His dark curls had tightened along his hairline, and his face had a healthy, post-exercise glow. Ollie tried not to think of his heart, beating away inside his chest, and whether it was behaving itself. He’d told her he was fine, now. She had to let it go.
