The Second Love of My Life

by Victoria Walters

  I don’t want to lose anything I love because I lost him.

  The hours pass quickly as the bar gets busier and busier. Robert perches on one of the bar stools chatting to some regulars, and halfway through the night John comes in with three guys he works with and sits down at the booth Emma kept empty for him. John is completely different to the guy I thought Emma would end up with, which I think is exactly why they work. He and Lucas were great friends almost from the start, each of them easy-going and laid-back. They used to say they had both picked alpha women. John comes to the bar to get the drinks and kisses me on the cheek. ‘Beers all round, Rose.’

  ‘Sure. This is Robert,’ I say as he’s standing next to Robert’s stool. ‘He’s in town for the Fair.’

  ‘For Rose’s paintings,’ Robert corrects with a smile. He and John shake hands.

  ‘You have good taste then,’ John says, giving me a smile. ‘You’re staying at the Inn?’

  ‘That’s right. I think I’ll be staying for the summer.’

  ‘I wish I could get the summer off from work,’ John says wistfully, handing me money for the drinks.

  ‘Well, I work for my father and he’s never given me any time off, so he couldn’t really refuse me,’ Robert says. His eyes move to the beer in his hand and I notice his knuckles turn white.

  ‘What do you do?’

  ‘I’m a lawyer,’ he says, taking a swift gulp of his drink. He looks across at me like he can feel me watching and gives me a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. I catch a glimpse of sadness in them. Maybe I’m more attuned to it these days. ‘I think I was born to do it; I don’t have a creative bone in my body,’ he adds ruefully.

  ‘I bet you carried a briefcase to school, didn’t you?’ I say, trying to cheer him up.

  ‘Actually I did,’ he says, letting out a small laugh. ‘It was a requirement at our school.’

  ‘Not St James’s?’ Emma asks, coming over.

  ‘Yes, you know it?’

  Emma shakes her head. ‘We hated you at our school. You beat us once for the district football cup and we never got over it. What did we call the kids that went there?’

  ‘I don’t remember,’ I lie, wishing she would shut up, but when I look at Robert he’s smiling at her.

  ‘Oh, yeah, James the lames,’ she says, laughing. I can’t help but join in, remembering the chant we used to sing about them.

  Robert raises his eyebrows. ‘I didn’t think I’d be mocked at this age. I thought school was over?’

  ‘In a small town, school is never over,’ Emma replies. ‘Oh God, you were Head Boy, weren’t you?’

  I see his neck turn a little red. ‘Um, I don’t remember.’ He winks at me, though, so I know she’s right.

  ‘Anyway, I remember you crying because you didn’t get to be a prefect,’ I say to Emma, nudging her hip with mine.

  ‘Nope, no recollection of that,’ she replies breezily, walking off with a toss of her hair.

  ‘She bosses me around like she’s a prefect,’ John says, picking up his drinks.

  ‘What will you give me not to tell her you said that?’

  He pokes his tongue out at me but retreats quickly in case I do tell her. Robert shakes his head. ‘I’m quite glad I’m not still friends with my schoolmates; I’d rather forget what I was like then.’

  ‘Actually, I like having friends I’ve known forever, they know me and I know them – we can just be ourselves,’ I tell him, hating the tightening in my chest that follows my words. I turn away a little, wishing our group hadn’t had to diminish.

  ‘That sounds nice,’ Robert replies quietly.

  Adam comes over then. ‘When can I see your new work, Rose? I’d love to come round and take a look,’ he says, like he’s always popped round to see my paintings. He never has. Is it my imagination, or is he standing up straighter than usual, as if he wants to look taller? I see him glance across at Robert to make sure he heard him.

  ‘There’s nothing to see,’ I say shortly, moving to the side to see if anyone needs another drink.

  ‘Why not?’ Adam asks, not catching that was an ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ answer.

  I sense both their eyes on me. I start to feel hot. ‘I don’t have anything ready to show people.’ I look around hopefully for Emma to step in and save me from this, but she’s on the other side of the room with John.

  ‘That never bothered you before, you’ve shown me things half finished,’ Adam says, although I can’t actually remember doing any such thing. Maybe that’s because I’ve tried to forget all about my art. I grip the counter, feeling a little unsteady. ‘She shouldn’t be precious about it, should she?’ he says, bringing Robert into the conversation.

  Robert watches me for a moment. ‘I think when you’re as talented as Rose is, you should share your work with as many people as possible.’

  ‘Well, maybe my talent is all used up,’ I snap back at him. ‘You don’t know anything about my art.’

  ‘I know it’s beautiful,’ he replies, maddeningly calm.

  ‘You don’t know anything,’ I tell him. The room feels too hot. ‘I need some air,’ I tell them, pushing past Adam and hurrying out of the door, drinking in the breeze lifting off the sea.

  It’s dark now and the stars are out above me. I hug my arms across my chest as I look up at them, trying to slow my heartbeat down. I know it’s not their fault. I hear someone behind me and I sigh, knowing I was rude back there but not knowing how to shake off the anger I feel. Anger at them. Anger at myself. Angry at whatever force took Lucas from me and changed everything. Angry at him for leaving me. I never had a hot temper before, but now it feels as though anger is constantly bubbling up under my skin, ready to erupt at the slightest nudge.

  ‘So that newspaper article was right about you struggling to paint again?’ Robert asks in a gentle voice behind me. ‘It seems like a real shame.’

  ‘And what do you know about it? You just arrived here, you don’t know anything about me and you haven’t got a creative bone in your body, as you put it,’ I say, not turning around as I feel like I might burst into tears.

  ‘I envy your talent. I think you could do so much more with it. I’d hate to see it all go to waste. You’re right, I’ve only just got here, but that doesn’t mean I’m not right about this.’

  I pull my arms tighter around myself. ‘It’s not as simple as that. I just can’t paint,’ I choke out, my voice mingling with the wind.

  I feel him step closer to me. ‘Why not?’

  ‘I just can’t.’

  ‘Have you tried?’

  ‘Yes.’ I think about it. ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’

  I brush a tear from my cheek. Why not? My heart won’t stop thumping inside my chest. ‘I’m scared,’ I whisper. The thought of letting out what I’m feeling in my heart on paper is too terrifying to contemplate. I’m scared of what would come out. I’m scared that once I started I wouldn’t be able to stop. I’m scared of what I would paint without him. I don’t want to paint without him.

  I’m scared I can’t do any of this without him.

  ‘I became a lawyer because my father is a lawyer,’ Robert tells me. ‘He always expected me to join the family firm. He even set up a local office for me to run for him. I was too scared to even consider doing something else. I sat in the office one Monday morning and wondered how I got there. That’s why I came here. To find out.’

  I turn around then. ‘You didn’t ask me why I’m scared.’

  ‘Everyone is scared of something,’ he says. ‘You just have to find what fear you can overcome. If you want to paint again, then you can.’

  ‘You make it sound so simple.’

  ‘No, it’s not simple. Nothing is simple, Rose. God, I know that. I . . .’ He breaks off and
shakes his head. ‘I just see that you have a gift and I don’t want you to let it go. I can see you don’t either. You wouldn’t get so angry, so upset, if you did.’ He walks back into the bar, a burst of noise and light coming out as he swings the door open and extinguishing just as suddenly after he closes it behind him. I stay outside for ten minutes, thinking about what he said over and over until my head feels like it might combust.

  When I go home later, I walk past my painting room and pause. Before I can talk myself out of it, I open the door and leave it halfway open as I hurry past it to my bedroom. I feel better when I lie down in bed. I think about what Robert said. What scares me most? Painting or not painting? I don’t have the answer yet, but leaving the door open will remind me that I need to find that answer soon.

  Chapter Six

  Saturday, the day of the Fair, dawns light and bright. I’m awake early, the sun just beginning to rise as I sip black coffee at my kitchen table and try to keep my nerves at bay. I decide I need to go for a walk to clear my head before Emma and John arrive to help me take my paintings to the field. I slip on jeans and a hoodie and head for the beach.

  I can’t avoid seeing the row of town houses on my route where Emma and John live, and beyond them the one I used to share with Lucas is just visible as I step on to the beach. A young family live in our house now. I do miss living by the beach on mornings like this, as there’s rarely anyone here apart from joggers or dog walkers and you can be alone with your thoughts. But I had to make a home without him. And I still have all this on my doorstep.

  I think you can live beside the sea and never get bored because it’s constantly changing and always reminding you that you are just a tiny cog in the wheel of the world.

  Nature always used to inspire my art. I loved to try to replicate it on canvas, to try to capture the feel of the sun on your face as you walk across the sand and look out to where the sea meets the sky. I trace the path I have walked so many times in my life.

  I remember the days I spent here as a kid running into the sea with my mum chasing me and laughing, and then as a teenager with Lucas picking me up and threatening to drop me into the water, and getting distracted when I kissed him. A place with so many traces of the people I love it’s amazing that the ghosts of them don’t appear right in front of me. But they don’t need to – they are cemented on my heart.

  Today is going to be so hard without them. Losing my mum was heartbreaking but it felt like I still had a family because I had Lucas, and now I’m facing a future alone. This feels like the first step in accepting that. The first time I’ll be going to the Fair without one of them, and I hope I have the strength to make it through the day.

  I sit down cross-legged on the sand for a few minutes watching the sun rise up into the clear blue sky, tilting my face towards it. I think I come here more now than ever. I used to walk past it coming to and from our town house but now I live further away, I take time to drink it in, to appreciate it more. That’s the flip side to grieving, the way you want to cling on to the good things in life in case they leave you too. I bury my hand in the cool sand, letting it run through my fingers, reminding me it’s still here.

  I’m still here.

  ‘It’s a beautiful morning,’ a voice breaks into my musings. I look up to see Robert walking across the sand towards me.

  Seeing him transports me back to the last time I saw him – outside the bar last night – and I inwardly cringe at my outburst. ‘You’re up early.’

  ‘I was just having a walk before breakfast. Mick tries to make me have five courses.’

  ‘This town loves to feed,’ I say, wishing I were as calm as he seems today. I notice he’s wearing something more casual this morning – a polo shirt and jeans – and his hair looks less gelled. He is holding his shoes, bare feet in the sand, and the relaxed look suits him better somehow.

  ‘Especially if they think you’re not eating properly, I imagine,’ he says, giving me a quick look that gives me the uncomfortable feeling that he sees so much more than I want him to see. ‘I don’t mind, I’m used to just cooking myself beans on toast. I’m a true bachelor cliché.’ He grins but seems to shift uneasily as if he’s embarrassed by what he’s said. ‘And why are you here so early?’

  ‘Having a quiet moment before today’s madness, I suppose.’ I find myself twisting my rings around, a habit that helps to displace my nerves sometimes. I see him glance at my hand in the sand, my diamond ring and wedding band catching the morning sunlight, and I feel self-conscious about touching them. ‘I didn’t mean to get so upset with you at Joe’s, it’s just . . .’

  ‘You can’t paint without him?’

  I stare at him in surprise then shake my head. ‘That article was bullshit, okay? He twisted what Joe said to him,’ I snap, then I sigh. ‘I mean, I have been struggling, but it’s more than my grief, I feel like I should be doing something different now, something more. I guess that doesn’t make any sense. Not much seems to make sense right now. It’s like there’s this huge . . . block.’

  ‘That’s completely understandable, you know. You’ve been through something so . . . tragic. You’re just finding a way of, not dealing with it, but coping, maybe. If you can make your way through this block, then you will find inspiration again, I think,’ Robert says softly.

  I wish it were that simple.

  ‘You know, it’s good that I ran into you. What time do I need to get to the Fair to make sure I can snap all your paintings up?’ I sense he’s trying to lighten our suddenly dark conversation and I’m relieved. It’s hard enough to talk about it with people I know, let alone someone who will never know Lucas.

  ‘The Fair starts at eleven but I doubt there will be a rush on my stall, so you should be fine.’

  ‘I wouldn’t bank on that.’

  I squint up at him, the sun rising above him and getting in my eyes. ‘You really are a fan of my art, aren’t you?’

  He chuckles. ‘I shall prove it to you today.’ He turns to walk back to the Inn. ‘See you later, Rose.’ His voice seems to linger on my name a little, then he heads off back down the beach, strolling across the sand, his shoes dangling in his hand. I watch him for a moment, wondering why a guy wants to stay in our small town for the whole summer. It seems a strange destination for a single man. I caught the bachelor reference. He obviously has money too – wouldn’t he rather be in an exotic location instead?

  I look in my bag and find my earbuds and plug them into my iPhone. I need to drown the world out for a couple more hours, and nothing used to help more with that than music. I start my favourite playlist and lean back on my hands gazing out to the sea. Carrie Underwood fills my ears.

  The world around me fades into the background and when I eventually realise the sun is fully on my face, I check the time and see that the morning is well underway, so I start to walk back across the sand towards town.

  ‘Rose!’ a voice calls, interrupting the music. I turn and frown a little as I see Adam jogging towards me. Ever since he’d started working in the bar in the holidays, Emma had maintained that he had a crush on me. Then Lucas had joined in the teasing, asking if I was going to leave him for a toy boy. I never took them seriously, but I must admit lately even I have noticed that he likes me, and I’m really not sure how to handle it. He’s wearing shorts even though it’s a crisp morning, a sure sign he’s Talting born and bred – we’re all pretty hardy when it comes to the elements. He breaks into a wide smile when he sees me and I lift my hand slightly to acknowledge him. I carry on walking, wishing he’d just jog on by, but, of course, he slows to a walk beside me. Annoyed, I pull out my earbuds, which I thought were a universal sign for ‘I don’t want to talk to you’ – but obviously not to him.

  ‘So, today’s the Fair . . .’ he begins, fiddling with the edge of his white T-shirt. I wait for him to continue. ‘Well, I was wondering if you wanted to g
o, to the uh, evening thing together?’ He kicks the sand with his foot and avoids my eyes as his question hangs in the air between us.

  God. I panic for a second. I don’t know how to deal with this. Being with someone since I was fourteen meant I never had to go on a first date or turn anyone down. I can feel my palms start to sweat. ‘Adam, I’m there to sell my paintings, I might not even get to watch the band, I don’t know . . .’

  ‘But if you do you’ll go with me?’ he asks eagerly.

  I stop walking. ‘I can’t,’ I choke out.

  ‘Oh. I’m sorry. Is it . . . is it too soon for you?’ he asks quietly, turning to face me.

  Is it? How do you know when it’s not? All I know is, this doesn’t feel right. Not now, not with him.

  Like me, he looks confused and lost. ‘Do you think I’m too young for you?’

  ‘No . . . yes.’ I clench my hands into fists and wish I could just sink into the ground. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘I just thought—’

  ‘Please, I’m just not ready for this,’ I cut in, losing patience with him. I don’t see why I have to explain. This isn’t what I want. ‘I have to go. Sorry.’ I break away from him and walk back up the beach towards town. The backs of my legs start to ache as I try to put as much distance as I can between us.

  I walk briskly back to my cottage, my cheeks burning. I haven’t ever shown any interest in him – why would he think I’d want to go on a date?

  As I let myself in, I wonder what Lucas would have made of the incident. ‘I think it’s flattering other guys appreciate how gorgeous my girl is,’ I imagine him saying to me. I don’t feel flattered, just embarrassed and annoyed, but I try to push it aside as I hurry upstairs to have a shower and get ready.

  When Joe and John turn up with the van they’ve borrowed an hour later, my nerves about the Fair have taken over any thoughts of Adam. I’m in jeans, a shirt and ballet pumps with a grey scarf covered in butterflies that Lucas bought me a few years ago. It’s still one of my favourites and I thought it might be lucky today.