by M. R. THOMAS
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The next morning Abbie went to the shop early, and she asked the old man if she could speak to Simon. Again he appeared not to realise that she was the one who was staying in their caravan.
He shouted through to the back room that there was a visitor.
When Simon appeared, seeing it was Abbie he was surprised as he hadn’t expected to see her. He thought she looked refreshed and lovelier than ever, his mind flitting back to the curves of her body that he had seen the night before. She can’t know I saw her, surely? He hoped, feeling a sense of guilt and betrayal.
“Hi, you Ok?” He asked.
“Fine thanks. Listen if it’s all right I want to stay the third night, I’m enjoying myself here”.
“That’s fine, no problem at all, do you need any extra blankets or anything?”
“No it’s great as it is thanks, it gets warm in there”.
Simon began to feel again that all too familiar sense of frustration, the one that made him feel inadequate and say inappropriate or stupid things when with a pretty woman. He wanted to ask her out, to spend a little time with her, but what if she said no?
“So, how much then?” Enquired Abbie.
“Sorry, what? I was miles away” began Simon.
“The cost of the extra night’s stay”.
“Oh nothing. We agreed £50 for either two or three nights, this is your third so we’re quits”.
“That fine with me, thank you again.”
“Listen Abbie, have you had your breakfast yet?”
“No, why?”
“Well I haven’t either and was just about to go the café; would you like to join me?” Said Simon sheepishly, almost regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth. “They’ll be open now, but it’s OK if you can’t”.
Abbie looked at him and saw that he was in so many ways unsure of himself, but full of kindness, she couldn’t help but like him.
“Yes, I’d love too, are we going now? I’m starving” she replied.
Simon picked up his jacket and spoke to his father.
“Dad, just going for some breakfast, you OK here?”
His father didn’t look up from his newspaper but waved with his hand.
They made the short walk from the shop to the café in silence. Abbie felt that Simon was now a bit uncomfortable and possibly feeling awkward and at a loss as to what to say.
It was just before 9 am when they entered, the first people to arrive.
“Have a seat”’ said Simon “this is on me.”
Abbie smiled, “thanks, you’re kind”.
Looking at the menu Abbie decided “I’ll have scrambled egg on toast please, and tea. I can’t overdo it, I’m running later”.
“You’re not having any of mine then!” he said, as he left the table to order.
When he joined her again with the two mugs of steaming tea she asked,
“You up to much today?”
“No not really, going to get some stock for the shop after breakfast, I’ll take Jess; she likes to ride in the car. I have to do that sort of thing; Dad, even with a list, gets things wrong, but in the actual shop he’s generally OK, the familiar surroundings I guess”.
“How long have you been at the shop?”
“Dad had it before I was born, so I’ve always been here, a family of shop keepers you could say. What do you do, Abbie?”
“Me, I’m a teacher, but having some time off at the moment, needed a break so here I am”.
“You been to this place before, he asked?”
“No never, found all this by chance, just passing the other day, it’s so lovely it really is”.
“Glad you’re enjoying it” smiled Simon.
Once the food arrived, the conversation seemed to take second place to eating, not that Abbie minded as she felt hungry. She was just finishing her eggs when the café door opened and in walked Michael.
He noticed her immediately, and Abbie sensed that he quickly moved his gaze from her to her companion at the table.
Making his way across the café floor, he approached Abbie.
“Good morning, nice to see you” he said.
“Hello Michael, you’re out early today”.
“Yes, making the most of the time, and the weather, I hear it’s all going to turn nasty” he said, casting a glance at Simon.
Abbie noticed this. “Simon” she said” this is Michael, I don’t know if you have met, Michael this is Simon”.
“Hello” said Simon offering his hand to Michael.
“How do you do Simon, pleased to meet you” was Michael’s response, taking the proffered hand to shake.
Abbie was immediately aware of sense of uneasiness between the two.
“I’m renting a caravan from Simon; he runs the village shop, we’re just having a bite to eat”.
Michael nodded “I’ll just order some tea” he said moving towards the counter.
Abbie looked at Simon, he looked uncomfortable, but she didn’t say anything. She thought that he had the look of a school boy caught doing something he shouldn’t. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.
Michael returned with his tea and sat at the next table not far away. Abbie tried to bridge this awkward gap, so looking at Simon she said, “Michael’s on holiday too, staying along the road in another village, aren’t you?” she turned to Michael.
“Yes that’s right”.
“I hope your stay is pleasant” replied Simon.
“Yes, thank you”.
“Michael’s been here a few time before”, Abbie said to Simon, attempting to continue the conversation.
Simon smiled at her. “I’m afraid I’ll have to go, things to do, places to be with the dog.”
“Me too” said Abbie also getting up to leave.
“’Bye then” said Michael.
“’Bye” replied Abbie.
Outside after a few minutes walking in silence to the shop, Simon turned to Abbie: “Do you know him?”
“No not really, I’ve seen him a few times when I’ve been out running, he always stops to say hello. I saw him in the cafe yesterday afternoon. I guess he’s just a lonely, friendly guy, he does a lot of walking”.
“Please forgive me for saying this Abbie, but be careful. I don’t know him, I’ve never seen him around here ever, but there was something about him that I didn’t like, he gave me the creeps. Just be careful, I don’t want you to get hurt that’s all”. He looked at her with genuine concern, “I didn’t like the way he looked at you”.
“Simon, it’s OK, thank you” she put her hand on his arm, seeing the concern in his face. “Don’t worry, I can take care of myself”.
“I’ve no doubt you can”, he smiled. “But if he gives you any hassle, tell me alright”
“Thanks” smiled Abbie, “I’m sure he’s harmless, don’t worry”.
“Take care” said Simon as he entered the shop.
That was all very odd, she thought to herself.
As the morning was very bright and fresh, Abbie decided to walk along the harbour and the other side of the village that she hadn’t really seen before. She passed a few rows of painted cottages and came to a large expanse of grass, a village green but on the edge of the village. In the centre was a small rose garden with a monument and, as she approached it, she realised the stone obelisk was a war memorial with names of all the local men lost. At its base was a poppy wreath, a tribute from the recent Armistice day.
Had she bought a poppy this year? Wondered Abbie, but she genuinely couldn’t recall; most of the recent weeks were a blur to her.
There were narrow rose beds around the obelisk and they all looked as if they’d recently been pruned, with bare stalks emerging from the earth.
As she walked around the monument, she noticed some benches beyond it, which initially were out of her view.
Michael was sitting on one of them in the sunshine. Abbie was surpris
ed to see him; she hadn’t expected it and her heart missed a beat.
How had he got there so quickly? She thought. She hadn’t seen him on the street.
He looked up and caught her eye, and she felt uncomfortable.
“Now, are you following me?” he asked, smiling at her.
“No I’m just enjoying the morning. I’m surprised to see you again, I didn’t expect to.”
“Only surprised in a good way I hope?”
Abbie forced a smile, the sense of discomfort staying with her as she walked around the monument, but she was distracted by his presence.
“How much longer are you here?” he asked
“Well I’m paid up till tomorrow, I might stay another night, see how I feel. What about you?”
“Oh, generally I take one day at a time” he said, and then looking directly at her, Abbie found she could not avert her gaze from his face. “If you stay a bit longer, you might decide to come with me for a meal one evening, which would be so nice”.
Abbie suddenly realised what had been behind the atmosphere in the café: there she was, having time with Simon, having previously refused to go out with Michael – it was male jealousy, that was what this was all about.
My God! She thought, men!
“Michael” she said, “you are kind to ask me again. I’m sorry I wasn’t overly friendly the other day, but you know my situation. I’d really like to join you for a meal though”.
“Really?” he replied, looking pleased, “That would be so lovely, thank you so much, it will be my pleasure. I’ll take care of the arrangements; there is a nice restaurant near where I’m staying, I’ll book a table say for 7.30 this evening, is that OK for you?” He asked tentatively.
“Yes, that will be fine, but be warned I didn’t come away expecting to be going to posh restaurants so my wardrobe is limited”.
“Don’t worry about that, you will be completely fine, trust me”. He said.
“Well, I’ve been told I brush up well”.
“I bet you do” he smiled. “I’ll come to collect you outside the shop, say 7.15?”
“Fine, I’ll see you then, ‘bye for now”.
Michael stood and offered her his hand, which she took, and he then gracefully bowed putting her hand to his lips. She noticed that he closed his eyes as he kissed her skin, and his lips were ice cold.
She turned and left him by the bench and walked back to the caravan without looking back.
Early that afternoon Abbie ran along the beach, but after two long runs over the previous days she quickly became tired, and it became clear to her she needed some rest. A ten mile run today would be a huge struggle, so she decided to cut her run short.
Some half way down the beach she came to a stop, and walked for a while before sitting on the sand a few metres from the shoreline. She was enjoying watching the waves lap the shore, the only sound that disturbed the tranquillity.
She saw that out on the horizon dark clouds were gathering and the wind seemed to be growing stronger as the minutes passed. It seemed Michael was maybe right she thought; the spell of good weather looked like it would soon be over.
Abbie decided that she had run enough, and enjoyed a stroll back along the beach, stopping to look at the shells, and the odd lump of drift wood. She stopped to pick up some smooth pebbles and spent several minutes trying to skim them over the water’s surface as she had done with her father years ago on holiday as a child, and good memories came flooding back.
A few gulls appeared screeching overhead, and she remembered a time when as a young girl, a gull had swooped down and pecked at her ice cream and frightened her so much she dropped it and then cried. In so many ways that seemed such a long time ago, another lifetime in fact, whereas these days her tears were for very different reasons.
This thought brought a flurry of sadness. She thought it was a long time since she’d cried, but really, it probably wasn’t that long at all.
Abbie took her time making her way back to the caravan, stopping at the top of the hill to look at the view over the beach for a few minutes. In the days when she’d enjoyed this expanse of land, she recalled that she’d never encountered another person on the beach. She had enjoyed the isolation for a few days, but had it helped her? Maybe she thought, but going home would be different, it would bring some difficulties back to her, she knew, whereas here, she felt that she had complete control over all aspects of her life and her time. Then again, thought Abbie, all holidays give you that sense of delusion about your life and time don’t they?
As the afternoon progressed, Abbie began to feel ambivalent about dining with Michael for some reason. In her mind she felt it was the decent and friendly thing to do, but at the same time she felt very awkward, and a sense of not wanting to go was disturbing her, but she couldn’t pinpoint why. Was this about Peter? She thought, or was it what Simon had said about Michael not being fully trustworthy? She couldn’t make up her mind and her uneasiness grew. She tried to think about it logically, but logic and reason seemed to evade her, and she became more unsettled, and agitated by the whole thing as the day progressed.
She didn’t know this guy, or anything about him, and she didn’t know where exactly she was going to be taken either. Did he just want friendship, or did he hope for something else?
And did she welcome the idea of something else? She was unsure and confused about that also.
There was no way of contacting Michael to call it off. God, she thought, why did I agree to this? She realised that being polite and thinking of others had got her into this predicament.
As the evening got darker, the rain began to come down heavily, rattling the roof of the caravan; this gave her a secure and safe feeling, being protected inside somewhere nice and cosy.
After several hours of deliberating on and off, both her mind and heart were telling her not to go with Michael this evening, and it forced her into making a decision, the only one she could make: she could not go. Sure, he would be unhappy, let down, stood up or whatever, but she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want; she would not go with him, and that was that.
Just after 7 pm Abbie put on her coat and hat and went out to the front of the shop to wait for him to arrive. She ran down the path holding her hood up to stop herself getting wet; the evening wasn’t as cold as she’d expected, but the rain was lashing down in torrents and bouncing off the pavements. She sheltered in the shop doorway, again feeling pangs of unfairness at letting him down, but she had to be true to herself.
At precisely 7.15 pm, a dark car approached the kerb where she stood, its headlamps piercing the darkness and gloom like two cat’s eyes. The car was long and sleek, and Abbie was unsure of the make; it was almost silent with not a hint of engine noise. Despite the rain, its paint glistened in the light reflected by the street lamp overhead. The rain was so heavy she couldn’t make out the person behind the window. She thought of going to the car, but that meant a soaking while standing out in the rain and explaining her decision. After a moment, the nearside window went down, and she saw that Michael was looking directly at her. He didn’t beckon her to join him, as she would have expected. She knew by the look in his eye that he was not happy; he knew that that she had no intention of going with him. He continued to look at her through the rain. For some reason again Abbie felt unable to break from his gaze.
“I’m sorry” she shouted through the rain, shaking her head, “I’m sorry”.
The window of the car went back up and the car glided away silently into the wet night.
Chapter 15
As he drove away, tears began to roll down Michael’s face as he knew he had fallen for her. She just did not want to spend any time with me, he said to himself.
He licked his lips, recalling the moment when he’d experienced the cool soft texture of her skin as he’d kissed her hand earlier in the day.
Abbie turned to go back to the caravan feeling very out of sorts. Passing the shop side entrance a door opened,
and Simon beckoned her to come in out of the rain. Once inside she removed her hood and hat. He looked at her, ‘‘Are you OK?” he said, “You look stressed”
“Yes, I’m alright thanks; it’s no big deal, just me being stupid. I saw Michael again this morning and he asked me out this evening and I agreed, but over the day I became so uneasy about it that I couldn’t go. I didn’t want to not turn up, so I went to meet him, and nothing was said but he just knew. I guess I’ve really upset him”.
“Look, come in and take off your wet coat and get dry a bit, I’ll make you a drink.”
Simon turned and Abbie followed him into a kitchen/diner that was warm and dry. She felt wetter than she probably was; her trouser bottoms damp against her legs, making her skin feel cool.
Abbie took off her coat and Simon took it from her; as he did so, she noticed him looking at her, and for a moment she felt naked before him. She put her arms around herself and sat down at the table.
“Dad’s upstairs” he said, “he often goes up about this time, watches his own telly and reads, he enjoys his own space”.
“How old is he?” Asked Abbie.
“78 now, and struggling with his memory for the past few years, but he still insists on working every day; he says it keeps him going, but I say get a hobby!”
Abbie smiled.
“A drink?”
“Yes please”.
“Something hot or something a bit stronger?”
“Oh, stronger if you’re offering” she replied.
Simon produced a bottle of red wine and poured two glasses, handing one to Abbie.
“Cheers”, he said
She smiled and lifted her glass in acknowledgment.
“That’s nice” she said as the warm fruity liquid passed over her palate. “This whole afternoon was a bit freaky” she continued. “I remembered what you said about being careful and you thinking he wasn’t trustworthy, and I realised I couldn’t go with him. I see now in the end it was all about trust, and I didn’t have it for him, he was just trying to be too nice to me all the time in a false way”.