When I Knew You

by KE Payne

  “I’m parked here.” Ash lifted her head to her ramshackle truck, a year’s worth of mud splattered up its sides. “Can’t miss it. Scruffiest thing in the car park.” Her laugh masked her embarrassment, and she wished she’d thought to clean it that morning before she left.

  Nat waited at the passenger door as Ash slid herself in to her driver’s seat, then reached over and removed a pile of papers from the passenger seat. She flung them into the back, then nodded through the window for Nat to get in.

  “Sorry about the mess,” Ash said as Nat settled herself in. She fired the engine, revving it three times until she was happy that it wouldn’t stall. “It’s kind of my office too.”

  “Stop apologizing.” Nat put her hand on Ash’s leg. “At least you have a car. I sold mine when I moved back to London.”

  Ash looked down at Nat’s hand on her leg. When she looked back up, Nat was staring at her.

  “I’m glad I’m here at long last,” Nat said. “I’ve…been looking forward to it. I—” She smiled then shook her head. “Never mind. Ignore me. I’m prattling on, as usual.”

  Ash knew Nat wanted to say more. Her face was unreadable, but Ash could sense underneath, Nat wanted to tell her something more.

  “Me too,” Ash said, if only to break the awkwardness that crackled between them. “And if it’s as much fun as London was, then we’ll have a great time.”

  That seemed to comfort Nat. “I’d like to think so,” she said.

  Nat’s face was still expressionless. Her hand though, Ash noted, remained on her leg. Ash resisted the temptation to look at it or, heaven forbid, place her own hand on top of it, despite the noisiest voice she’d ever heard in her head urging her to do it. There was a time when they couldn’t keep their hands off one another, where just the prospect of being alone together in a confined space like this would have been too much.

  Shaking the thought from her head, Ash slammed her truck into first gear and, with a quick glance in her wing mirror, pulled out of her parking space. Nat had removed her hand from Ash’s leg, leaving a small pool of cold where it had been. They didn’t speak, Nat apparently preferring to stare out of her window than make idle chitchat with Ash.

  Ash slipped a look to her as they rounded a corner. She wondered what Nat was thinking; perhaps she felt as uncomfortable being alone with Ash as Ash did, knowing what they both now knew, and wished that Chloe was with them to defuse the renewed clumsiness that now stood between them. Nat had seemed genuine enough though when she’d said she was glad to be there; it was just the pessimist inside Ash wanted to find a negative when there quite possibly was none.

  “Did you have rain?”

  Nat’s question brought Ash back from her thoughts.

  “Rain? Yes. Loads.” Ash wondered just when she’d lost the power of speech. “It woke me up.” Okay, so that was a half-truth. “I was beginning to worry that today would be a washout.”

  “Same at home.” Nat glanced at her, then back out of the window.

  Ash nodded, wishing she could think of something more to say. She couldn’t.

  “I meant to ask you,” Nat said, “if your train home from London was okay the other day.”

  “Fine. Why?” Ash was surprised.

  “You didn’t tell me you got back okay,” Nat said. “That’s all.”

  “Don’t tell me you were worried about me?” Ash stared ahead, knowing what she wanted—hoped—Nat’s answer might be. Aware that Nat was looking at her, she glanced over. “Were you?”

  “I was.” Nat’s face was serious. “And…I wanted to text you these last few days, but…”

  “I guess I should have contacted you too.” Ash spoke when Nat’s sentence remained hanging in the air. “So maybe we’re as bad as each other.” She laughed, hoping it would steady the growing tension inside the car.

  “Yes,” Nat replied, turning her head away from Ash once more, “maybe we are.”

  ❖

  Nat thought Ash’s whitewashed cottage was like something she’d see on a box of chocolates. Or a children’s book about eighteenth-century smugglers. She wasn’t quite sure. It was set back from the road, down a short dirt track that Ash’s truck wobbled and crunched over violently enough for Nat to have to hold on to the handle of her door. Tiny windows poked out from under a dense, thatched roof, the paint peeling from their frames a testament to their proximity to the sea, while the thick-set wooden front door with its slightly rusting cast-iron fittings proudly announced the name of the cottage: Holly Cottage.

  As she slipped out of the truck and looked around her, Nat spotted the cottage’s namesakes: two enormous holly bushes, the first hints of that winter’s red berries beading the green foliage, stood importantly in opposite corners of Ash’s garden. Ash had given a nod to the cottage’s clifftop position overlooking the sea too, Nat noticed, and had given her garden a pleasing sea theme. Brightly coloured buoys peeked out from behind the bushes in her flower beds and sun-bleached shells and starfish were lined up along a wall, while pieces of driftwood, planed to a velvety smoothness by the sea, had been placed strategically around the garden.

  It was, Nat thought, exactly how she’d imagined it to be. And she’d imagined it a lot over the past few days. As she followed Ash down the garden path towards the cottage, Nat’s mind fell back over the days, when she’d sat in her apartment both dreading and anticipating the moment when she’d see Ash’s home. Ash hadn’t disappointed. Her cottage was picture perfect and Nat appreciated just how much time and effort Ash must have put into it to make it so.

  She looked up, her eyes roaming over it all, finally settling on the thatched roof and its fine craftsmanship. No wonder Ash was happy down here, Nat thought as she followed Ash in through the front door. No wonder she felt so at home.

  “I hope it’s okay to drop off here first.”

  Ash’s voice pulled Nat’s attention back to her.

  “Sure.” Nat smiled at her.

  “Your B and B is further down the coastal road,” Ash said as she opened the front door. “It just made sense to stop off here on the way.” She paused. “Besides, I thought you might be hungry. I made sandwiches.”

  Ash’s genuineness was touching. Without thinking, Nat reached over and smoothed her hand down her arm as she passed her on her way in through the door.

  “Thank you,” Nat said. “I am actually really hungry.” She followed Ash into her lounge and laughed as she spotted a large scrubbed table with three cellophane-wrapped plates, each piled high with sandwiches. “Which is just as well, bearing in mind how many sandwiches you made.”

  Ash looked over to the table.

  “I thought Chloe was coming too.” She turned back and shrugged, almost apologetically, Nat thought. It was sweet.

  Nat held Ash’s look. “It’s sweet.” She spoke her thoughts. “Seriously sweet.”

  “Well, don’t tell everyone,” Ash said. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

  Her unease was obvious. From Nat’s continued eye contact, or from calling her sweet? Nat wasn’t sure. She pulled her gaze away and wandered further into Ash’s lounge, sensing Ash still watching her from behind.

  “Your cottage is lovely.” A feeling of comfort enveloped Nat as she looked around Ash’s home, appreciating the cosy space, thanks in part to Ash’s taste in colours and pictures, and the array of bright throws, cushions, and rugs scattered arbitrarily around the room. It was perfect Ash: slightly haphazard, but aching with warmth. Nat approached Ash’s neat inglenook fireplace, its surround smudged with smoke, and looked at a photo. “This your dog?” She threw a look back to Ash.

  “Widgeon.” Ash joined her at the fireplace. “I know I’m silly having a photo of my dog, but—”

  “Who said it’s silly?” Nat leaned briefly against Ash, then away again. “I think that’s sweet too.”

  “Reputation…”

  Ash’s rising mock-warning voice made Nat laugh.

  “He’s out,” Ash continued. “In
case you wondered. Gabe took him down with him to the boat this morning.”

  “I’d like to see it today,” Nat said. “Your boat. If you have time.”

  “Sure.” Ash moved away again, then stopped, looking deep in thought. “We should open Livvy’s next letter first though.” Her face looked etched with something that Nat couldn’t put her finger on. “That’s why you’re here after all.”

  The bluntness in the delivery of Ash’s statement after her previous friendliness came as a shock to Nat, draining all the cosiness from her, and she took its implications with a sinking heart. Distance. That was what it so clearly was. For whatever reason, Ash was trying to push her away again, to remind Nat the reason she was here. Ash had just looked at her with such lifeless eyes, it was as though they were back to being strangers again. But the notion that Ash would want to push them back when Nat had thought they were creeping forward unsettled her more than she cared for; for her this whole adventure had turned out to be so much more than just the wish list, and even more so now Chloe wasn’t with them. This was a chance to get to know Ash again, this time on her home turf.

  Nat watched Ash, wishing that she could follow the movement of her thoughts, wishing she knew what she could do or say to keep them moving forward again. When Ash’s coolness remained, Nat finally gave up trying and walked from the fireplace, Ash’s distance still stinging her, the embarrassment at her sharp change in mood making her own mood darken.

  “Okay,” she said, trying to keep her voice level, “so let’s open Livvy’s letter now.”

  If that’s how you want to play this.

  She pulled her rucksack from her back. “Let’s get this over and done with as soon as possible.”

  ❖

  The judder of the front door, the sound of boots being kicked off and clattering across her hallway, the rapid clip of claws on her wooden floor. Another door slamming, followed by a loud curse. Only one man could make so much noise in so little time.

  Ash caught Nat’s attention from across her lounge and lifted her eyes heavenward as another curse rolled in from the hallway.

  “Gabe,” Ash said, in reply to Nat’s questioning look.

  Ash knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away for long. So much for his, I’ll take Widgeon with me for the day so he’s not under your feet when you all get back. Ash loved Gabe dearly but sometimes he was nosier than a whole bunch of old women put together, and she knew Nat was the reason he’d brought her dog home early. Chloe too, possibly, but mainly Nat.

  Not that Ash minded too much. Her sharpness towards Nat earlier had sucked the life out of the room, and she knew she was to blame for it. Now, having sat in virtual silence after reading Livvy’s letter, neither wanting to be the first to start up a new conversation, Nat evidently keeping herself to herself, Ash couldn’t help but be slightly thankful that Gabe had arrived to put some cheer back into the room.

  She hadn’t meant to be so blunt with Nat, though. But there had been something about the way Nat had been standing by her fire, gazing at her photos, that had sent Ash’s insides flipping. Her resulting snappiness had been a reflex: a grouchiness at her own feelings that had taken Ash quite by surprise, immediately followed by a scratch of guilt when she’d seen Nat’s face fall.

  Another crash from out in the hallway made Ash frown.

  “What?” Nat asked.

  “Nothing.” Ash shook her head, but the frown remained. “Just…I might have known Gabe wouldn’t be able resist coming up here and having a nosy.”

  “Now I’m nervous,” Nat said.

  Ash looked at her. Yes, Nat did look nervous, endearingly so. Ash cut her glance away and concentrated on listening out for Gabe.

  “We’re in here,” she called. “In case you were wondering.”

  The door opened and Gabe’s face appeared.

  “So you are.” He grinned into the room. “Widgeon was mithering, so…”

  “You brought him home.” Ash tilted her head back on the sofa to see him. “Thank you.” She resisted the urge to add liar.

  “So. You’re here,” Gabe said.

  “Gabe, Nat.” Ash waved a hand. “Nat, Gabe.” She watched as Gabe practically swept into the room and strode over to a visibly surprised Nat, his hand outstretched.

  “Pleased to meet you,” he said. “I mean, really pleased to meet you.”

  Nat hastily stood. “Likewise.”

  Ash watched in amusement as they awkwardly shook hands.

  “You’re missing one.” Gabe fell into the chair next to Ash. “Chloe?”

  “Livvy’s mum’s ill,” Nat said. “So she’s staying in London.”

  “So it’s just the two of you?”

  The look on Gabe’s face wasn’t lost on Ash.

  “Just the two of us. Yes.” Ash flicked a look to Nat, then away again. She looked about as uncomfortable as Ash felt.

  A silence settled in the room, only punctuated by the ticking of a clock.

  “How do you like Cornwall?” Gabe was the first to break the quiet. “Bit different from London, I guess?”

  Stilted laughter. “I haven’t seen much yet,” Nat said. “Although I’m sure Livvy will have plenty for us to do in the next few days.”

  Ash smiled but didn’t answer.

  “Ash tells me you recently got offered a new job,” Gabe said, “in Ireland.”

  “Mm.” Nat moved in her chair, and Ash sensed an increase in her discomfort. “I have to confirm my acceptance, then I should be good to go next month.”

  “In what line?” Gabe shook his head. “Ash did tell me. I forget now.”

  Ash glared at Gabe. He knew full well. “Cardi—”

  “—ology.” Nat spoke at the same time as Ash. “Sorry.”

  “Sorry.” Ash felt her face warm.

  “It’s mostly surgery.” Nat flashed her a look that said, It’s okay. “I’ve been doing lots of research for the last few years so I suppose the change will be good.”

  “Lab research?” Gabe asked.

  “Lab and office.” Nat nodded.

  “With a bit of surgery thrown in?”

  “Mm.” Nat nodded. “I love the research, but I think I’ll eventually get used to being back in the operating theatre more.”

  Ash listened quietly. Gabe was asking her all the questions she knew she should have asked Nat. Why hadn’t she spoken to her about it? This new job was obviously a big deal to Nat and yet Ash had shown little or no interest in it. Ash knew just why. She’d closed her ears to it because if she did, then maybe it wouldn’t happen and Nat would stay in England and…and what?

  “You’re excited?” Gabe asked.

  “I think so.” Nat laughed. “But more apprehensive.”

  Ash looked at her. There was that flicker of something again, passing across Nat’s face. Unnoticeable to most, but to Ash? As clear as day. She knew Nat inside and out. Despite Nat’s confidence—after all, it had always been Nat who’d had the fire to achieve things in life when Ash had been happy with her lot—it was nevertheless still a look she’d seen her do many times when they’d been together whenever she was stressed about something. A forthcoming exam, an argument with her parents, a tricky assignment: each resulted in a look of anguish, a slight pinch of the brows, a quick blink. The scud of a shadow across her features. Ash felt a tug in her heart, remembering how once upon a time she would have been at Nat’s side at such a look. Would have gathered her in her arms and told her everything was going to be okay. Ash was there. Ash would always be there for her.

  “Sometimes,” Nat said, lifting her eyes to Ash’s, “I wonder if it wouldn’t be just as much fun to jack it all in and go back to just doing research.” Her voice was light, but Ash knew the lightness was somewhat forced. “Or buy myself a boat and sail off into the sunset.” She smiled at Ash. “But I suppose that’s what an overwhelming dose of dread about picking up a major new job does for you.” Nat drew her gaze from Ash and spoke quickly, as though if she didn’t, she might say
something else instead. The forced lightness and the wavering doubt were even more evident this time, quite in contrast to the same Nat who had oozed self-confidence about her new job at Judy’s house just a few weeks before.

  But that had been then. Now Ash could see Nat through different eyes and noticed the fear in the frown that she wore, heard it in the tremoring voice Nat was so keen to hide. What kind of environment did Nat work in anyway? Ash guessed Nat had needed a spine of steel to appease her parents and get where she’d got herself so far, but perhaps there was only so much steel one person had.

  “So what has Livvy got up her sleeve for you next?”

  Gabe’s question was a welcome distraction.

  “A trip on the boat.” Ash’s smile was broad. “Which is handy because that’s what I had planned anyway.” Her smile was matched by Nat’s. “By the time I got the business up and running ten years ago, I never got to take Livvy out on the boat because Chloe was still too young. Livvy thought she’d wriggle so much she’d fall overboard.”

  “So Livvy asked Ash to take me and Chloe out on it,” Nat said. “Well, just me now.”

  Which is ironic, Ash thought as she stood and went to her cabinet where Livvy’s letter was propped up against some books, considering we’d already planned a trip. Livvy, Ash was beginning to think, was one step ahead of them. Ash pulled her letter from the cabinet and opened it up. She scanned her eyes down, and read: “So thanks to my wriggling little fish of a daughter, my wish was never granted. Poor me.” Ash looked up and smiled. “Will you take her? Clo? She still wriggles as much as she did but at fourteen I should hope she’d be able to swim better if she does fall overboard (please tell her this is a joke). Nat can grumble that she doesn’t have sea legs and you can all have the most marvellous time.”

  “And we will,” Nat said, adding, “I do have sea legs, by the way.”