AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Sharp intake of breath.
‘OH MY GOD, JOE!’ My teeth clatter.
‘You’ll get used to it,’ he says, that broad grin beaming directly at me as he puts his arm around my shoulder. Instantly Those Confusing Thoughts start pulsing through my mind but this time, I tell myself not to get in a dither. Just enjoy the moment. We’re standing with our feet in the sea while the wind batters us and our bodies keep each other warm-ish. Looking back to land, a few other maniacs are also braving a beach day and we watch a couple of children run towards the water in glee.
‘The kids would love it here,’ Joe says and I know, instinctively, that he’s talking about my daughter as well as Sid, which warms my heart.
‘Okay, you’re shivering, let’s get you back on dry land,’ he says after a while.
‘I think I’ve got hypothermia?’
‘Hypothermia looks good on you so, you know … every cloud.’
‘If I’ve lost the use of my feet, I will be very cross with you, Joe,’ I say, looking down at my very white legs through the water.
‘I’ve no doubt. And Cross Sophie sounds like someone I don’t want to mess with. Ready?’ He holds out his hand and I take it before we gallop out of the sea as fast as physically possible.
‘Oh look! There’s a tiny fish and chip shop over there.’ I point towards a wooden shack painted in bright blue with a kiosk and a small chalkboard menu out front. ‘Fancy lunch? Might help us warm up.’
I grab a picnic bench outside and order steaming hot cups of tea which arrive in chipped enamel mugs. The air is thick with the smell of vinegar. My skin feels like I’ve been for an abrasive exfoliation treatment, buffered by the wind and salty air. Joe walks out of the shack with a paper bag containing a large fish and chips to share. He sits down next to me on one side of the bench and we huddle together and eat, warm and content as we gaze out to sea.
‘It’s funny how life turns out, isn’t it?’ I say after a while, spearing another chip with my little wooden fork.
‘Seaside makes Sophie philosophical,’ says Joe, pretending to pen this down on his ever-growing list of Sophie quirks. I flick a packet of ketchup at him.
‘What I mean is, who’d have thought you and I would end up sat here like this. Freezing our bits off in the North Atlantic Ocean. It’s mad because one minute you’re a kid at school, then in your twenties working towards a career, hurtling yourself towards some unknown goal. Then the next thing you know, you’ve got a child of your own and the hurtling element of it stops. The motion. Do you know what I mean? Suddenly whatever you were propelling yourself towards in your twenties has happened and you’re standing still and taking stock.’ I pause for breath. Joe’s listening intently.
‘I’m waffling,’ I say, spearing some of the freshly caught fish coated in a deliciously light batter.
‘I don’t think you are,’ he says. ‘Your thirties is meant to be a confident era, isn’t it? Personally, I know myself and what I want so much more clearly now.’
He chances a look at me then and I fiddle with a packet of mayo to still my mind.
‘Having said that,’ he continues, ‘it’s daunting to think that we might have made a lot of our big decisions by now. A lot of people are rebelling against that whole idea that you should be married with a couple of kids and a mortgage at our age and I admire that. Because the truth is no one knows what’s around the corner. What’s the point focusing on some arbitrary goals when real life could be passing you by?’
‘So you’re saying you’re embracing the unknown?’
Joe thinks on this. ‘I’m a thirty-five-year-old widower,’ he says after a pause. ‘You’re thirty-three and already out the other side of a divorce. I think it’s fair to say that neither of us expected life to take us down those paths but we’re here.’
‘We’re here.’
‘So, I don’t really see it as standing still. I think there’s so much more to come for us, Sophie. Maybe it’s just that now we’re at the ripe old ages that we are, we can give ourselves a bit more time to make the decisions that feel right for us.’
I get the distinct feeling that Joe is hinting at some decision I might have to make in the future, or not just me but the both of us? But I stubbornly refuse to wrap my brain around what he’s driving at. I’m having too much fun to dwell on any big thoughts right now. So I steal a couple of chips from Joe’s side of the open bag and pop them into my mouth with glee.
‘You’re an outrage, Sophie Rogers. Curry sauce?’ he offers, pulling the lid off a polystyrene pot.
‘Curry sauce is not an acceptable accompaniment to fish and chips!’ I squawk.
‘Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it.’ Joe grins, dipping a chip in and eating it with relish.
‘Animal,’ I mutter. ‘Did you get a pickled egg too? Because if so I’m going to have to toy with the idea of ending this plan of ours with immediate effect.’
Joe offers me a fully doused chip and says: ‘Live a little.’
I scowl at him. Then I try it.
And I like it.
