“It’s not so much the words as the fact that he actually bedazzled them,” I say in an awed voice. “How long did that take?”
“Weeks,” he says happily. “Henry is very dedicated when it comes to certain things.”
“Like graffiti and defacing Church of England property. How did he not get found out?”
“Because my father was usually drunk when we got here and my mother was too busy looking down at the peasants.”
I smile, but I nestle closer to him. His childhood sounds so awful that I can’t believe what good men he and Henry turned out to be. “I’m sorry for that,” I whisper.
He just smiles and kisses my forehead. “I’m not. It made me appreciate what you give me all the more, which is the way it should be.”
I smile at him, full of so many emotions that I feel I could float off. I love him so much, I can’t say. I settle for hugging him instead, and from the way he hugs me back I think he gets the message.
Half an hour later, I sit in the car outside the Chinese takeaway in Padstow. The car is warm and cosy, Bing Crosby is warbling about a White Christmas, and if he were here, he’d be pleased after looking out of the window. Snow is falling in fat, fluffy flakes dancing down onto the car only to be whisked away by the wipers. I’ve lapsed into an almost hypnotised state, so the sound of the door opening makes me jump.
Silas puts the bag of food on the back seat, and I inhale the delicious scent as my stomach rumbles. He climbs into the driving seat and grins at me. “Brrr, it’s coming down hard.”
“Do you think the others will have a job getting here?”
He flicks the indicator and pulls out slowly, but even so, the wheels catch on the new snow. “I’m not sure,” he says consideringly. “The motorway will be clear, but the back lanes might be a problem.” He shoots me a look. “Don’t worry, darling. It’ll all be fine.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“I know,” he says peaceably. “I just said it.”
I snort and poke him in the ribs. Then I stare out of the window. “I’m not a local boy, Silas, but we appear to be heading in the wrong direction.”
He smiles at me a little anxiously. “Do you mind if we don’t eat at home?”
“No,” I say slowly. “But where are we going that they’ll let us eat takeaway?”
“I was thinking about it while I was in the takeaway. I’ve always meant to do this with you, but I really want to do it now while the weather’s like this.” He bites his lip. “I just want to make a memory.”
I squeeze his leg. “I’ll go anywhere with you, and it will always be a memory, and if it goes wrong, then it’ll be an excellent funny story.”
“You’ve got a lot of Irish in you.”
“You can have a lot of it in you, if you carry on like this,” I say just to listen to him laugh.
He takes the car down winding lanes with high hedges which send crazy shadows over the car. The snow is still falling, but the Land Rover copes perfectly with the roads. Finally, he indicates and turns, and I peer out of the window. At first, I can’t see anything, but then we come out onto a road and ahead of me is the massive dark expanse of the sea.
“The beach?” I say.
He shoots me a smile as he pulls neatly into a parking space facing the view. “Do you mind?”
“Of course I don’t,” I say slowly. “What an amazing view.”
The sea is a dark mass, and the sandy beach looks white in the eerie, snow-filled night.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen the beach with snow,” I say.
He laughs. “Come on. Let’s have a walk down it and then come back. I asked for some forks from the takeaway. We can eat with a view.”
I grin back at him, shrugging into my coat before climbing out of the car and joining him. He pulls my hat closely over my head, and I button his coat, and the simple gestures make me smile and feel warm inside. I’ve never had anyone take care of me like Silas. It’s never an obligation but always done with a sense of wonder on his part.
We set off down the beach with my hand in his pocket. The