“Come on, Elizabeth. If your father found out, what would he say? And Dr. Warbeck too. Don’t you wonder what they would say if they knew about us meeting like this?”
“Yes,” she said, wrapping her coat tight around her chest. “But this has got nothing to do with either of them.”
“I think it probably has.” He got to his feet, made for the road.
“Where are you going?” she called as she scrambled to follow him, aware that if anybody drove past, or if Mr. Boden from the shop came out to collect the milk, they’d be seen.
“I just don’t know what this is, that’s all. What would people say?”
“I thought you didn’t care about what people might say?”
“I don’t care what people say about me.” His face softened as he stepped toward her. His hands were cold as he touched her cheek, but she leaned into that touch because when it wasn’t there, she missed it. “But I care what they think about you.”
Standing in full view of anybody who walked past, she realized that she didn’t care. Not anymore. Before she could talk herself out of it, she moved into him, wrapped her arms around his body. His head pressed against hers, and she heard him breathing deeply, sure that he was taking in the scent of her hair. “I only care about being with you,” she whispered.
Words like magic, an unexpected gift, and as she held on to him she felt his body soften against hers. For a moment it was as if he were melting into her, but then he pulled away. Despite her feelings, Elizabeth knew it was no good for them to be seen together like this. Not yet. From his actions she assumed that Tom knew it too.
“Okay, look. The sea is too rough to go now,” he said. “Tides are all wrong, you’ll end up bringing up your breakfast, and your father will have my guts. But Old Man Cressa says it’ll be a millpond later, according to the forecast for the next few days. Never usually wrong when it comes to launching the Stella to Wolf Rock. It’s due to sail on Monday.”
Dreams of their adventure came to her as she followed his gaze, roaming wild as sheep over the grassy lands that rose high above the sea. “So, you’ll take me then?”
“We’ll take the coastal path over Carn Olva.” It took all his effort to keep his smile hidden, she could see that. He was as excited as she was. “It’s no easy path, and you won’t make supper, so make sure you cover it with your father. I don’t want him knocking on my door tonight.”
“I’ll sort it all out. I’ll tell him I’m seeing Margaret. Shall we say at five p.m.?”
“No. Too late. Four p.m.” After a quick look around to check they were alone he kissed her on the cheek, and she wondered how long it would be before he kissed her differently when he had the chance. Because she wanted him to, but not under the slipway of the lifeboat station like she’d heard he had taken a few other girls. She already knew she wanted something more than that.
“I’ll see you later, then. Don’t be late.”
The distance between them grew as he made his way toward his cottage, and as she watched him walk away, she hurried a pencil from her satchel, sketching the lay of the land with Tom in the very center. It was imperative she capture that moment exactly as it was. She knew she would never want to forget it, although at the time she still had only a limited understanding as to why.
Now
Waking up in Tom’s house left Elizabeth confused and uncertain. As her eyes adjusted to the light she remembered where she was, and the ramifications of her rash decision to come to London became clear. That first morning, as she tiptoed down the stairs like a burglar, snooping around where she didn’t belong, she wondered what the hell she had done. Never in her life had she been so spontaneous before. The photographs still seemed to stare back at her, especially those of his wife with Alice, but as she made tea, the faces of his past didn’t seem quite so judgmental anymore.
Tom woke late, and they ate a quiet breakfast together that she prepared. Later, Elizabeth called Francine and asked her to feed Cookie and water her potted plants, and having those necessities taken