friends. The familiar – it’s what everyone knows and there is a comfort in it.
The chalky white marks of distant jets once again adorn the sky, which today is a gorgeous intense blue. Some people are still anxious, venturing forth from their homes like cautious deer, vigilant, armed with masks and antibac, happy to return inside as soon as they can. Others are determined to get out and enjoy it whilst they can flock to tourist spots, living out every moment of life with a desperation born from the frustrations of temporary captivity.
This is the new normal. Whether it is better than the old one still waits to be seen, like everything in life, a story waiting to be told – it’s in the hands of people to decide how it unfolds.
In the courtyard, there are signs of life. A young man, dressed in shorts and a blue T-shirt makes his way over to the raised flowerbeds. His brown hair has begun to grow back from its shortened crop. Even to the casual observer, he appears a little anxious but this is blended with an alertness, an appreciation for his surroundings, the flowers, a passing butterfly all attract his notice. Even the very air he breathes and the feeling of the sun on his back. He perches and waits for someone, his eyes closed in the sunlight, recharging his batteries after weeks of being inside.
Sensing he’s not alone, he slowly opens his eyes. It’s her, of course it is, he can sense her when she’s near.
‘Sophia?’ It comes out as a question, but it isn’t one.
‘Jack.’ She smiles and her whole face lights up, especially her eyes, as he knew they would because although he felt he knew her anyway, he had met her before, all those months ago, and not even realised.
They stand for a moment, holding hands, just looking into each other’s eyes, simply because they can.
‘Jack, I …’
‘Soph …’
They both laugh and stop, awkward as it always is when you first meet someone who you’ve only nearly met before. In their own time, they make their way side by side to Sophia’s car, because now they’ve found each other, they don’t want to let go. They talk and laugh as though they’ve known each other a long time, which in a way they have. Once they arrive at Sparrow Hill, Sophia parks and having unloaded the basket – which Jack has already filled with a bottle, glasses and sushi; requested by Sophia because it was the one thing she couldn’t get during lockdown – they walk hand in hand to the brow of the hill.
Jack makes himself busy with the picnic rug, flattening out the wrinkles and placing cushions in all the right places.
‘Have you done this before?’ she asks, her laughing eyes crinkling at the corners.
‘Not recently,’ he quips. ‘What’s it to be? I thought you might like the lavender mocktail?’
She laughs. ‘Maybe save it for my gran.’
‘I thought you might say that,’ he replies, ‘so I brought some Pimm’s. Just a bit, as you’re driving.’
‘Sounds perfect.’ She smiles. They lie propped on the cushions, looking out over the view, Sophia cradled in against Jack’s outstretched but protective body, both drinking in the vista of hills and patchwork fields, horses grazing the grass and birds flitting in the trees.
‘When did you know?’ she asks, munching on some smoked salmon. ‘These are really good you know. Did you make them?’
‘I could say yes, but I won’t because you won’t believe me,’ he tells her.
‘Well, they taste lovely either way. You haven’t answered the question.’
‘Just now,’ he says.
‘So you didn’t realise before?’ she asks.
‘No – did you?’
‘No, I had no idea,’ she replies.
‘Me neither, but then when I saw you, it all made sense – that rainy day in the street. You were lost in that huge mac but your eyes, they attracted me from the start.’
‘With their lustrous beauty?’
‘No, although they are very pretty!’
‘Thanks.’ She laughs.
‘It was the way they crinkle at the corners,’ he tells her. ‘They’re smiley eyes.’ He stops and looks inquiringly at her, making her blush.
‘Where were you going? You were in a real rush.’
‘To meet Sam at the hospital for my check-up.’
‘No wonder you were in a hurry,’ she says.
‘I’m always late,’ he admits.
‘Why doesn’t that surprise me? Poor Sam.’
‘Poor Jess – I knocked all her magazines onto the wet pavement.’
Sophia giggles. ‘That was unfortunate.’
‘Do you think she’ll always hate me?’
‘No.’ She looks at him for a moment speculatively. ‘I think she’ll