Page 81 of The Last First Date

‘What do you think Hels? Sounds like fun?’ Ish was already tying his boots, and stuffing the last corner of his pasty into his mouth.

‘Yes, okay let’s walk, Nan are you okay to wait here?’ Helen pulled a beanie over her head, as the wind still ran cold along the beach.

‘Of course, I’ll wait here, I’ve got plenty to do!’

Helen noticed Nanny G surreptitiously slipping her mobile phone out of her pocket, as they walked out of the door of the café. Ish was particularly trepidatious about puddles and walked gingerly across the wet sand.

‘You’re wearing hiking boots, Ish, you’ll probably be okay.’

‘I’m just not like those rugged men of your past Helen, I like warm toes.’ Ish pulled her in for a side hug. ‘Not that there’s anything wrong with Cornwall, but it is freezing down here!’

Like Helen, Ish was naturally wary of anything involving hiking, heights and getting wet. Especially waves. They were quite compatible like that.

The beach looked so similar today to a year ago, it felt like it could have been yesterday. Walking across the same beach, it was like her mind was running a split screen: Brody lightly touching her on her arm, as he postured in his Ray-Bans, to Ish, who kept grooming himself for tiny bits of seaweed.

She remembered the feeling so well, of hoping and waiting for someone to carry you off on some adventure. Back in the Brody days it was like she didn’t want to be Helen anymore. Brody was an escape hatch from herself. Sometimes she thought back about Brody. The memories of him no longer needed to be ring-fenced in her mind as something special and sacred: Helen looked at them differently now. Like a balloon that slowly deflated, her image of Brody had shifted. Yes, he was obviously a charming guy, but was he ever genuine? Would he have messaged even if Connex hadn’t broken, or would he have got swept away to some new horizon? When they met up again in London that time, the magic she thought was between them had evaporated like a rock pool in sunlight.

He still messaged every now and again, but this was one person Helen was going to be rude enough to leave on read. ‘Archive that chat babe!’ Elle’s voice (and wagging index finger) came back into her mind.

There was no comparison really between Brody and Ish. Not because one was self-obsessed, and the other giving. Not because Brody liked to party, and Ish’s idea of vice was chocolate cake. Not because one was all talk, and the other surprisingly talented in the bedroom. But because one was her breathing, laughing, (and today shivering) real-world boyfriend, and the other was a perfect fantasy she had created in her head.

Ish ducked as a seagull dipped past.

‘They’re probably interested in your pasty crumbs,’ Helen said, brushing flakes of pasty off Ish’s coat.

‘You don’t get this up North! And I’m guessing there’s no tram to get us up that?’ Ish’s hands were on his hips as he looked up to the cliff path above them.

The shingle path wound up around the cliff edge, at an incline that no Stairmaster could match, touched by the silvery light of spring that was just getting warm.

‘But if we don’t go up, we won’t get to see the view, or the moor ponies, or get a sprig of heather …’

Ish gave her a look.

‘Heather’s Nanny G’s favourite,’ Helen shrugged.

‘All right, but only because it’s you and Nanny G pulling at my heartstrings.’ Ish walked behind Helen and helped push her upwards by the small of her back. ‘You can call this manoeuvre an IPA: Ish power assist!’

‘Very useful for hills!’ Helen laughed and slumped into his hands more. They circled up the cliff edge, bent double against the wind as they ascended. The beach, and the sea, shrunk into miniature beneath them. From the beach the sea always looked murky and grey, but from up here it was brilliant jade, with frothing surf bashing the cliff face.

‘See, isn’t it beautiful?’ Helen breathed deeply, out of breath, her cheeks flushed in the cool air.

‘It is …’ Ish conceded and pulled Helen in for a kiss, her hair whipping the sides of their faces in the wind. There was still a fizz between them, a grappling to get closer, an urgency to be together.

‘Come here it’s more sheltered …’ Helen took Ish’s hand around the corner, where some boulders clustered around the cliff edge. They provided natural shelter, and she didn’t think many other people would be up there today, so maybe, just maybe … She unzipped Ish’s jacket to feel the warmth of his chest with her hand.

‘Helen?’

‘Henry?’

Helen spun around and readjusted her beanie. Nessy stood with her arms wrapped around her, a long white scarf out like a wind sock in the breeze. Henry had his arms folded in annoyance, and he was, he was on one knee …

‘What funny timing!’ Nessy said brightly.

Helen did a quick double check: no ring on finger, but distinct bulge in Henry’s side pocket; a very different kind of bulge to the one in Ish’s …

Ish zipped up his coat, and tugged his jacket down a few more inches. ‘So this looks err … sorry Henry.’

‘It’s fine …’ Henry huffed.

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