by Katey Lovell
My heart beat faster at the sight of him, and I had to internally tell myself to calm down. There was no rational reason to be nervous, especially as last time I was in this shop I all but thrust my 38DDs in his face.
I turned my attention back to the young girl. “You’re welcome. Better someone can make good use of them.”
“Oh, I’m sure they will.” The girl grinned, flashing two rows of gunmetal grey braces. “You’d be surprised at how many people come in here hoping to find a bargain. Although,” she leaned in closer, as though about to share a secret, “I think half the women who come here only want to talk to Max.” She flicked her head in the direction of the counter and I couldn’t stop my eyes following hers. He was leaning forward as he handed the customer her change, a wide and friendly grin on his face. “Everyone likes talking to him. He makes people feel…” the girl searched for the right words – I recognised the reaction – “he makes people feel special.”
The girl looked at the floor, swaying from side to side so her rainbow hair swished behind her like a multicoloured waterfall, soft waves of pinks and greens and blues tumbling forward over her shoulders. She was like a unicorn in plain sight.
“I know Max, and you’re right. He does make people feel special.”
The girl’s head pinged up, her eyes wide and startled. “Are you his girlfriend?” she asked in a tentative whisper.
I shook my head. “No, just a friend.”
She visibly relaxed at my reply, even though she must have known her chances with him were close to zero, however much she fantasised about him; she can’t have been more than seventeen.
“He’s nice, isn’t he?” she said, gazing dreamily in Max’s direction.
Max looked over, as though he could sense our gaze, raising his eyebrows so they bobbed quizzically over the upper rim of his glasses. The girl quickly turned away.
“He is.”
“I’ll leave you to look around,” she said, embarrassed, wincing as she picked up the bags again and made her way towards a doorway at the back of the shop. I had the distinct impression she was looking for an excuse to hide and the storeroom was the best option. “Thanks again for the clothes.”
With the girl out of view and my heart thumping against my chest I moved towards Max and the counter. Even with my nerves churning I recognised the sensation of a playful smirk creeping onto my face as I replayed the conversation I’d rehearsed on the train one last time before I said the words aloud.
“Hello, you.” He pressed his elbows against the counter, placing his head into the cup made by his hands. “What brings a nice girl like you to a place like this on a Saturday lunchtime?”
“You know… just donating some things I no longer need.”
“And here I was thinking you’d come to see me.” A cheeky twinkle sparkled in his eyes.
His comment buoyed me with bravery. “That might have played a part in it too.”
“Really? Because you never phoned…” His voice was light, but I sensed there was something serious buried beneath the words.
“Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you, and I thought it’d be better face to face.”
“Fire away.”
My palms were sweating but I resisted the urge to rub them against my beige linen trousers. Damp patches would be all too obvious.
“I wondered if you’d like to get together some time. That night at the pub with your mates was fun, but I thought we could go somewhere, just the two of us?”
“Are you asking me on a date, Sophie Drew?” The way he stared at me, teasing and testing, filled my stomach with a mass of fluttering butterflies.
“Yes, I suppose I am.”
“And where were you thinking of taking me on this date? After all, I already took you to the best drinking hole in the city,” he joked.
“You plied me with alcohol in a backstreet boozer,” I replied, giving as good as I got. “Maybe a picnic, or a trip to the coast? We could eat ice creams with all the toppings until we feel sick.”
“Ice cream sounds great. When are you free?” That was when I knew he wasn’t going to turn me down.
“The forecast said tomorrow was going to be nice…” I twiddled my hair around my fingers.
“I’m busy until two, but we could go after that?”
“Perfect.” It meant I could have a lie-in and still have time to wash and dry my hair and apply enough make-up to make it look like I wasn’t wearing any.
“Perfect.” He beamed and we made arrangements.
I was already mentally running through my outfit options and whether the polish on my toenails needed touching up. Doing my own pedis saved money, but my efforts didn’t last as long as the salon standard ones.
Five minutes later I floated out of the shop as though I was riding on a bubble, like an extra in a Katy Perry video. As I closed the shop door behind me a unicorn glared back at me, its colourful mane in juxtaposition to the dark expression on its face. Except it wasn’t a unicorn at all. The girl with the rainbow hair must have overheard our conversation. She looked completely devastated.
Chapter 19
The following afternoon my stomach was flipping somersaults. It was all I could do to stop myself peering out of the window to look for Max’s car. He’d told me to keep an eye out for a silver Mini just after 2pm, but I’d overestimated how long it would take me to get ready. By 1.42pm I was already drumming my fingers against the white gloss-painted windowsill, my chest fizzing with a combination of hope and first-official-date nerves.
I rifled through my bag for my phone, and for no particular reason found myself thinking the worst – that he’d send a last-minute message saying he’d changed his mind, or had a better offer from a member of his charity shop fan club.
I’d been about to put the handset back into my bag when my phone vibrated, the familiar ringtone making me jump. As if my heart hadn’t already been racing. When I saw it was Max trying to contact me, I inelegantly swiped at the screen to answer the call.
“Hi, Max.” I deliberately kept my tone light by raising my pitch. I sounded like an airhead. “Is everything okay?”
“Fine, fine,” he said casually. The general hubbub of people laughing and chattering around him blended with his words. “I’m on my way now so I’ll be with you in ten minutes.”
The noise in the background turned up a notch, and I thought I heard a wolf whistle.
“I’ll be ready and waiting. I’ve got a cool bag with picnic food, and some posh fruit juices.”
I looked at the ice-blue bag, crammed full of cheeses, meats and savoury snacks. Although I’d promised myself I wouldn’t go wild in the supermarket, I’d bought more than I’d set out to. The items in the yellow-sticker reduced section had been perfect picnic fodder.
“We’ll have to leave room for ice cream though,” he said, “and candyfloss. No trip to the seaside is complete without candyfloss.”
The voices in the background got louder again and I heard, clearly, a child call out, “Uncle Max is taking his girlfriend to the seaside!”
Being referred to as Max’s girlfriend pleased me, a smile pulling at the corners of my mouth.
“Who’s that?”
“Oh, that’s my nephew, Dylan. Chris, the brother you met at Johnny’s party’s son. He’s six, and thinks girls are disgusting. I’ve told him he may well change his mind about that by the time he gets older.”
Dylan responded in the background, “No way, girls smell,” and I giggled.
“Sounds like you’ve got a lot of people around you.”
“It’s always like this on a Sunday, everyone comes round to Mum and Dad’s for lunch. It’s too hot for a roast today though so the barbecue’s fired up instead and my nephews are splashing in the paddling pool.”
“That sounds nice.” A twinge of envy shot through my chest; they sounded like a really close family. Even though I got on with them, and Nick had made an effort recently so I saw more of him and Chantel,
there were still times I felt like the odd one out of my siblings. In a particularly brave moment I’d mentioned my insecurities to Mum, but she’d told me I was being silly. Although her words were kind, I hadn’t believed them. All the comments she’d made over the years about how proud she was of Anna and Nick’s achievements had stuck with me, along with the little digs about my own choices. “It must be lovely.”
“They’re not a bad bunch. Except Dale. He’s an idiot,” Max said, a jokey lilt in his voice, presumably to annoy Dale. “Thankfully, I won’t have to see him until next week now.”
“One of your other brothers?” Having first-hand knowledge of how annoying brothers can be, it seemed likely. When we were growing up, nothing would give Nick more pleasure than getting a rise out of me.
“Yep. Anyway, I’m on my way out of the gate now. I’ll be with you soon.”
After he’d hung up I slid on my sandals, picked up my handbag and the cool bag and made my way down to the car park to wait for Max.
A silver Mini appeared around the corner shortly after and I didn’t even try to hide my excitement as he clambered out of the car and greeted me with a grin. His fingers brushed mine as he relieved me of the cool bag. I had a feeling it was going to be a special afternoon.
“You’re kidding me.”
I shook my head emphatically. My hair couldn’t look any worse for the action because the sea air was blowing through it with full force. “I promise you, I’m telling the truth.”
“Never?”
“Not once.”
“Then that’s something we’ll have to rectify. A life without crazy golf is a life half-lived.”
I laughed at his horror as we sauntered along the water’s edge, our feet tracing the tide marks where the dry sand met the wet.
“I don’t know how I’ve managed to reach my thirties without playing a round,” I said with a sombre nod. “My childhood was one of severe deprivation, obviously.”
“It’s a good job you’ve found me. I’m going to make it my mission that we have a game before the day is out.”
“Food first though.”
“Food first,” he agreed, proudly displaying the cool bag. “I had one of Dad’s burgers at lunch, but if you’ve not had anything to eat you must be starving.”
“I’m pretty hungry,” I admitted, hoping my gut wouldn’t vocalise the rumble that was bouncing around it.
“This looks like a good spot for a picnic. What do you reckon?”
I wasn’t going to argue, so Max unfurled the tartan picnic blanket and started arranging the food on the disposable plates. I was glad I’d taken the time to remove all the yellow labels showing the bargain-bucket prices, and hoped Max wouldn’t notice the dates on all the packages were the same day – today.
The sky was bright, the air warm, despite the sun hiding behind clouds that were clumped together like melted marshmallows; and as we tucked into the snacks, watching the frothy spume spilling onto the sand, I was glad I’d trusted my instincts and made the decision to ask Max out, because the afternoon had been lovely, the laughter regularly punctuating our conversation an indication of our mutually dry sense of humour.
“Tell me about your family.” I licked the butter off the top of a cream cracker, aware it was a disgusting habit but not really caring. I’d had enough of acting, of being someone else to try to attract love. No more pretending, no more being someone I wasn’t. From this point forward I was going to be me, warts and all Sophie Drew. “Sounded like it was quite the party.”
Max snorted, his nose crumpling so his glasses shifted on the bridge of his nose. “It’s always like that. Any gathering descends into total chaos before long.”
“Raucous family?” I asked, curious.
“Big family,” he corrected. “I’m one of four brothers. Second oldest. Chris and Grant, who you’ve met, are married, both with kids, so any family occasion is busy and loud, even if it’s just getting together for a meal.”
“I didn’t realise there were four of you. I’m one of three and it’s bad enough.”
“I’m lucky, we all get on, mostly. Sure, there were times growing up where Chris and I came to blows, but that’s probably because we’re so close in age. There’s only a year between us. Well, a year and two days if you’re being really specific.”
“I think that’s why I’ve found it hard with my siblings. They’re really close to each other, and not just in age.” I scrunched the fabric of the blanket between my hands. “I’m four years older than Anna, five and a half older than Nick. It shouldn’t make a difference, but it does. I’m probably jealous of how close they are, and how they seem to have life sussed out as I blunder along from one disaster to another.”
Tension froze in my body, my back as straight as one of the lolly sticks that ran through the centre of the icy treats being sold from the kiosk on the promenade.
Max shuffled closer. His hand, large and warm, rubbed the exposed skin either side of my dress strap. “Today isn’t a disaster though, is it? From where I’m sat it’s pretty damn great.”
His words gave me happy chills. He moved in closer still, sliding his hand over my shoulder blades until his arm was draped around my shoulder.
“No,” I whispered, my eyes still fixed on his. “Today isn’t a disaster.”
And then Max’s face edged closer to my own, our intentions so obvious and so visceral, and as his lips met mine and I fell into his kiss the thrill excited me as much as my very first kiss. But kissing Max was way better than kissing Colin Hammond at the Year 7 school disco. Kissing Max wasn’t awkward or clumsy or to impress my friends. It felt right. Boy, did it feel right. His kiss was full of purpose without being too much. It lasted both a second and forever all at once, and when we parted I was left bewildered, like Alice spiralling down the rabbit hole with no clue what she’d be faced with when she landed.
“Wow,” he said. “That was even better than I thought it’d be.”
“You’d been thinking about kissing me?”
He smiled. “For weeks.”
“I’ve been thinking about you too. Ever since that first day when I came into the shop. I couldn’t explain it, but there was something pulling me to you. I wanted to spend time with you, get to know you better.”
“And now you can.”
When he put his arm around me, I allowed myself to slide my arm around his waist too. Even through his T-shirt the contours of his back felt so solid, so very there.
We sat in quiet solitude for a time. The world carried on around us – children chasing kites that soared on the coastal breeze, waves lapping at the shore like caresses, the seagulls darting and swooping in formations across the pastel sky.
Then Max affectionately patted my back, bringing me to the present, and said, “Are we having that round of crazy golf then?”
And I nodded yes, because I didn’t want my life to be half-lived any longer.
Chapter 20
Eve and I were enjoying a stroll around the lake, having borrowed her neighbour’s dog. A grumpy Dalmatian with the distinctly unoriginal nickname Spot; he wasn’t enjoying the great outdoors as much as we were. In fact, he’d flat-out stopped twice, which we’d taken as a sign that it was time to wander back towards the car park.
We’d talked as we walked, Eve itching for information about the previous weekend’s date with Max.
“It all sounds very romantic.” Eve had a faraway expression on her face as I replayed the minutiae of the date, especially when I told her how Max had shown me how to master my crazy-golf swing. It sounded cheesy even to me, how his body had pressed against mine as he stood behind me, the sparks flying as he’d repositioned my hands on the well-used club, but Eve was right. It had been romantic. More than that it had been real and true. “I’m so happy for you, Sophie. It’s been a long time since you’ve had a nice guy in your life.”
The pointed jibe at Darius didn’t pass me by, but I ignored it, not wanting thoughts of him to complicate
my beautiful memories. I’d not thought of him when I’d been at the beach either, I’d been too busy being present and enjoying Max’s company.
“Max is so sweet, Eve. He really listened to me when I spoke to him, and I felt like I could have told him anything in the world and he wouldn’t have judged me. And you should have heard him talking about his family, it sounds like they’re so tight-knit.”
“Nothing more attractive than a family man,” Eve agreed, her eyes lighting up. “A man who appreciates his own parents is perfect Daddy material. It’s scientifically proven.”
I didn’t dispute the accuracy of that fact, instead imagining Max cradling a newborn baby in his surprisingly toned arms, gazing adoringly into its eyes with all the love of a doting parent. It was like one of those black and white art shots, although Max wasn’t topless in my mind. (Although I’m sure if I knew what to expect he’d be half-naked in my head, we’d just not reached the topless stage yet. That said we’d not reached the baby stage either, but I had no trouble conjuring up an image of him with a child.)
“Sophie?” I realised I’d been lost in my daydream and blanking my friend.
“Sorry, I was thinking of something else.” The man I’d been on one proper date with holding our baby. What was I becoming?
“I could tell. You had this dopey look on your face.”
“Dopey?” I laughed. “Thanks a bunch.”
“You know what I mean. Looked like you were miles away.”
“Thinking about Max, that’s all,” I replied, with a grin that probably confirmed the dopey comment a million times over.
Eve rolled her eyes, but with a smile that showed she wasn’t really judging me. “You are such a smitten kitten, Sophie Drew.”
“I’m trying to play it cool, so I’ve been careful not to bombard him with messages. I don’t want to come across as desperate. He sent me a message earlier and I’m challenging myself not to reply until I get home tonight.”