Page 112 of Fling

The light turned green and he twisted the throttle harder than ever.

As she walked along Dún Laoghaire Harbour, Tara felt queasy. The nausea she had felt in the shed had evolved into sea-sickness as soon as she saw the water, even though she was on firm land. She told herself it was normal to have a knot in your stomach before a blind date, so she took a deep breath and tried to relax. Although she really had no clue whether or not her blind date was actually on his way.

For a split second she considered turning around and running a mile from the entire situation, but she thought better of it. She remembered her second tarot card of the blind woman in front of the sea and here she was, at the sea, ready to remove the blindfold. She had got The Lovers as her future card reading. That had to mean something. She had to trust her intuition now more than ever.

She finally reached the end of the walkway and rested on the barrier as she looked out to sea. She put her handbag down and leaned over the railing, allowing the breeze to catch her newly dyed red hair in the wind. It was a warm, mild day for October, so she had changed into a sleeveless white sundress with a chunky brown belt and gladiator sandals. It was the kind of look she had only ever worn on holidays, never in Ireland. But as the wind hit her, she immediately regretted not bringing a jacket.

She prayed Jack would see the message and come to her. The tapestry of events that had led to this moment all appeared completely chaotic and random, but Tara needed to believe there was some underlying plan for her, that she was still on the right track. It was synchronicity that had led her down this road and it was finally the moment of truth. If Jack didn’t show up, she would know it wasn’t meant to be. But if she and Jack weren’t meant to be, was anything meant to be? Would that mean her synchronicity was meaningless? The question terrified her, but she still needed the answer.

She looked down at her watch.

2.59 p.m.

She would have her answer soon.

Tara looked out to sea and waited patiently for fate to find her.

Colin could see the water.

He knew he was close.

The problem was he didn’t have any GPS navigation on his motorcycle and he wasn’t entirely sure which turn he was supposed to take. But with the ocean in his view, he was surely almost there.

But that’s when he heard the chucking sound. Like someone had thrown a spanner into Bonnie’s engine. Then the smoke appeared.

‘No, no, no, no, no!’ Colin said. ‘Not now!’

Bonnie began to slow down as her engine gave out. Had he pushed her too hard? She was almost as old as him and perhaps she simply wasn’t up to the tumultuous journey Colin had just put her through. But she had been repaired so recently. Then again, Colin had repaired the motorbike himself and maybe he wasn’t the mechanic he believed himself to be. Plus Tara had whacked the bike with a golf club.

He pulled Bonnie over to the side of the road and turned off her engine. He wanted to inspect her and see if he could fix the problem but he knew he couldn’t.

Time was of the essence.

He checked his watch.

3.08 p.m.

He was already late. But surely Claire would give him a few minutes’ grace period. He looked to his left and his face lit up with hope.

He could see the pier. Practically a stone’s throw away. He could still make it if he ran fast enough. And that’s exactly what he planned on doing.

Colin began to sprint towards the pier with every ounce of his being. He needed to make it. Otherwise his entire life would have fallen apart for nothing. He ran out onto a main road separating him from the pier. The cars whizzed past him and beeped him out of it for jaywalking. He had never run this fast in his life and he was becoming breathless. But maybe the adrenaline of the situation would give him the push he needed to make it.

Finally, his feet arrived on the harbour. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath. The pier stretched down before him and there were plenty of people out enjoying their Sunday. How would he know which one was Claire? What had she said in her message? Something about a walkway, halfway down the pier.

That was it.

Colin looked to the walkway stretching into the middle of the harbour. He hadn’t even caught his breath when it was taken once again. At the end of the path, he could see the figure of a beautiful red-headed woman looking out to sea, as if she was longing for him. Her back was turned to him so he couldn’t see her face. But she was the only person on the walkway.

He knew it was Claire.

The siren for which he had willingly wrecked his ship, just to get a glimpse of her majesty. It made perfect sense that she was a redhead. They had always been his weakness.

Colin smiled and moved forwards down the pier. As he approached her, he felt a strange feeling of familiarity. When he had been talking to Claire over the past few weeks, he felt as if he had known her his entire life and now, as he closed the distance between them, he felt it more than ever. Her red hair flew in every direction like untameable flames in the wind. A part of him was afraid to blink in case the ethereal fantasy would disappear. She appeared like a mirage in the desert of his life, an oasis of possibility.

He suddenly became hyper-aware of the fact that he would need to speak in just a few seconds. What could he possibly say that would live up to the moment? How would he sound? She was attracted to his masculinity, but Colin didn’t have a particularly deep voice. He decided he would deepen his voice by one octave, so he cleared his throat in anticipation.

But what would he do after speaking? He and Claire had spoken on such a deep emotional level online that small talk just wouldn’t be good enough. He began to think about his late-night conversations with Claire. Her deepest desire, she had told him, was for a man to walk up behind her, take her in his arms and kiss her like she was his. She didn’t want to have to ask a man to enrapture her in his arms, she wanted a man who knew she was his, even without her saying a word.

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