the original abbey housed both men and women, but was destroyed by the Danes?’
‘In 867,’ he adds, nodding his head enthusiastically. It’s so cold I can almost see ice in his hair but his smile shoots spears of warmth through the town. There’s a direct hit in my knickers. I reflect on this and consider jumping into the river and swimming away, a long way away. Less dramatically, I resume my commentary. ‘Hilda was a relative of King Oswt’s, wasn’t she?’
‘Correct.’ Darren is orgasmic. Knowledge is power. Luckily he doesn’t ask where I gained such a detailed grasp of the history of his home town, Smallsville. He’s so ridiculously pleased. A little part of me would hate to disappoint him. Truth is, Fi sent me a text message through my mobile with this and a number of other facts about Whitby. We always research our subjects thoroughly.
‘Would you like a closer look at the abbey?’ he asks. The abbey is on a cliff top. I could do with the workout. I nod and we set off. ‘What do you think of Whitby?’
I think it’s cold and I think it’s unfashionable. I never thought I’d be pleased to see a Woolworths’ and greet it as though it was Harrods’ food hall. But just as I’m about to say this I turn to Darren. He’s looking out to the sea. It’s shimmering turquoise and lustrous waves are breaking on the sand, which looks pink and peach by turn. I can’t see any of the greyness that had been so prevalent earlier.
‘It’s overwhelming,’ I mutter, which is at once truthful and vague enough to satisfy.
Darren grins widely. ‘Isn’t it? I knew you’d love it. It’s such a riot of colour and smell and sound. My senses feel electric.’
His skin looks cold and transparent, which is perfect for hanging on such strong, jilting cheekbones. My senses feel electric, too, but I’m not sure that it has much to do with the smell of fishing nets and creosote. We begin to walk through the cobbled streets. The children surprise me by not whining about having to climb up a couple of hundred steps; in fact, they are keen to do so – they want to look at old gravestones. Darren doesn’t seem to think this is at all odd, so I can only assume it’s a northern thing. The walk takes quite some time, as I go to extreme lengths to avoid being anywhere near a seagull. I swear Whitby seagulls are baby elephants in fancy dress. I’m almost deafened by their constant, hungry squawking. They look fierce, and whilst it may be lucky to be used as a bird’s public toilet, it’s a pleasure I can do without. I buy ice creams for the children and me. Darren’s determined to act his age and points out that it’s freezing. Charlotte looks at him pityingly, as though he is a lost soul. I can smell fish and chips or, more specifically, I can smell vinegar seeping into newspaper and, as we climb higher, I can smell smoke from the chimneys. It’s different.
We finally reach the church and whilst the girls run off to find Dracula’s tomb I puff furiously on a cigarette, not caring if it’s taking me one step nearer to joining Drac.
‘Have you heard from the studio?’ asks Darren.
‘Oh yes. Dozens of calls. They can’t seem to muddle through without me.’
‘Really?’
‘Really.’ I don’t tell him that Fi has found a replacement for him. Because if I do tell him, he’s bound to ask me why I’m still here.
‘I’m sure they can’t do without you, Cas. I mean such an intellectually challenging programme needs your unique input.’
I’m stung. I thought we were having a nice time, even amongst the tat and bric-à-brac. I’m trying – why can’t he?
‘Why do you hate me, Darren?’ I ask directly.
He looks genuinely surprised. He must be taken aback by my straightforward approach.
‘I don’t hate you. Hike you. I just don’t like the programme.’
Hmmm. He likes me.
Hmmm. Obviously not enough. Part of me wants to change the subject. Talk to him about the jet or herring industries. Indeed both those subjects suddenly appear riveting. But I can’t. Darren has thrown down the gauntlet; in fact, he’s spat at the family crest. I have to respond.
‘But it’s my programme. I thought of the concept.’
‘And you are proud of that, are you?’
‘I am. Very. TV6 was in deep trouble until I came up with this. People could have lost their jobs.’
‘Why