gamble, but also sleep around. How many women? she had asked, and his silence had confirmed her worst fears.
It had taken time, but she’d slowly allowed herself to morph into who she really was. All that was missing was a piece of her heart. She briskly washed up the wine glasses and placed them on the draining board.
She glanced out at the For Sale sign – the agent had put one at the front of the house and at the back, by the sea path. A lot of people walk on that path – it will be good for business.
Suddenly, she was aware of a sound behind her.
‘You’re up early.’ Greg was standing next to her, rubbing his eyes.
She nodded. ‘Couldn’t sleep. Coffee?’ She moved to the side to click the switch on the kettle. Greg reached into the cupboard for two mugs. She went behind him and pulled the cafetière out of the other cupboard and filled it with coffee granules, whilst he opened the drawer and fetched the teaspoons, then moved to the fridge for the milk. They were like two old school friends. She tried to keep the ache in her heart from showing. Once she poured the hot water over the coffee granules, she took it to the table where Greg was sitting, his head in his hands.
She put her hands onto the plunger to press it down, just as Greg looked up. Then, he reached over and traced a line across the top of her left hand with his finger. She stared at her hands beneath his for the longest moment – at her short nails, painted with gloss – not trusting herself to look up at him. What’s changed? She almost didn’t want to breathe in case she altered the mood.
‘Those scars,’ he said, following the tiny white line across the top of her hand with his index finger, ‘will they ever go?’
She shook her head. ‘No, but they’ll fade.’ She wriggled her fingers.
‘Shall we go for a walk on the beach after this? I could do with some fresh air.’ He traced another scar. ‘Taffie snores a lot.’
She laughed and nodded. She couldn’t speak. No words would come out of her mouth. She pressed the plunger down on the coffee mixture, watching the grains of coffee swirl like mini tornadoes in the pot, mixing together with the boiling water to form the hot coffee – two forces combining to make something new. Everything was in slow motion, blood rushing through her ears. As she poured the hot liquid out, she breathed in the rich tang of coffee and took a peek at Greg. He was staring out the window, legs crossed, lost in thought. Her stomach was clenched. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to drink the coffee after all. She sat glued to her seat, unsure what to say.
‘What a storm, thank God we’re all safe.’ He shifted in his seat. She nodded and then drained her cup. Before anything else could change, she went upstairs to get dressed.
They put Taffie on a lead, and shut the back door, taking the little steps leading down to the beach. Greg started to throw sticks for him as he gleefully bounded back and forth between master and stick.
Maddie wandered ahead to the water, stepping over discarded seaweed and shells, and stood on the shoreline. She’d took in a huge lungful of sea air, held it, then exhaled slowly as tendrils of hair fluttered around her face as she watched clouds scud across the horizon.
Greg came up behind her. She could feel his presence, then she felt her hair clasp loosen and her hair come tumbling down over her shoulders as he took the clip from her hair. Then, he gathered her hair up in one hand, stoking the back of her neck with his thumb and gently kissed the nape of her neck. A fizzing sensation ran down her spine. She couldn’t move, but fixed her vision on a wisp of cloud transforming itself from a streak of white, into a pyramid in the sky. She shivered.
‘You’re quiet,’ he whispered. ‘What’s on your mind?’
She spun round to face him. ‘No. Greg. What’s on yours?’ Her eyes hungrily searched his eyes for answers as he smiled at her and gently took her hand.
‘Let’s walk.’
They strolled along the water’s edge and although the air was getting chilly, she turned her face toward the September sun, which had traces of warmth in it. She’d taken off her