Nick cleared his throat. ‘All warm now?’
‘Yes. Thanks. Erm, so, erm… you’ve been running too? Is this a regular thing?’ I set off towards the steps onto the promenade in the hope of averting attention from whatever it was that had just happened between us.
Nick followed me. ‘I try to come down two or three mornings a week. I hate gyms and I used to hate the idea of running, but a couple of years ago I looked after Skye and Stuart’s Spaniel while they were on holiday. She ran so fast and I was scared of losing her so I used to run to keep up with her. When they came back, I realised I missed the exercise so I took it up properly. I’ve no interest in running anywhere other than the beach, though. There’ssomething exhilarating about running with waves crashing round you. What about you? Regular runner?’
‘God, no! I used to be in a club at college, running along the seafront at North Bay twice a week, but I fell out of the habit when I went to university. The only running I’ve done since then has been a half-hearted jog on a treadmill.’
‘So what made you go running today?’ Nick asked.
‘I had a bad night’s sleep and woke up with an overwhelming urge to see the sunrise, which somehow turned into an overwhelming urge to run. I haven’t done much exercise for well over a year so I’ll probably need a Zimmer frame to help me get around tomorrow.’
He laughed. ‘You might want to do a few stretches just in case. Do you think you’ll do it again?’
I thought for a moment. ‘You know what, I think I will. It was hard work, but I really enjoyed it.’
‘If you ever want company, I’m usually here for sunrise a few mornings a week although I don’t have set days as I’m often away with work.’
We reached the steps and ascended onto the promenade.
‘I might take you up on that,’ I said, heading towards where I’d parked the car. ‘If you can put up with seeing me in this state again.’
‘What state?’
‘Sweaty, bright red and far too fat for a pair of leggings.’
Nick stopped.
‘What’s wrong?’ I asked, stopping too.
‘I wish you could see yourself through my eyes,’ he said. ‘Because that’s not what I see at all. Far from it.’ He held my gaze until I had to look away, feeling suddenly shy.
‘I’d better go,’ he said. ‘Hope to see you again soon.’
I waved as I watched him jog towards his car, a grin on my face at his compliment and the almost-kiss.
My cheeks hurt from grinning by the time I got out of the car at Mum and Dad’s for a shower and change.
On Monday morning, I was at Seaside Blooms waiting for some workmen to arrive to fit my new floor when a text arrived.
?? From Nick
Hope you’ve had a good weekend. It was great to see you on Saturday. I’m working away for the next few days but, if you’re not too achy, can face it again and don’t mind some company, I’m aiming for a run at 7.15 on Friday. See you if I see you
I was about to reply when there was a knock on the door. Thinking it would be the workmen, I was surprised to see Auntie Kay instead. I hadn’t seen her or even spoken to her since Wednesday. Her hands-off approach was starting to concern me as I’d assumed she’d have been by my side every step of the way. I voiced my worries to Mum at the weekend but she reassured me that the reason I’d seen so little of Auntie Kay was specifically to avoid the hand-holding. I needed to pursue my own vision for Seaside Blooms and get used to making the decisions on my own. After all, it was my business now.
‘It’s the elusive Auntie Kay,’ I said, giving her a hug. ‘Wow! I’m honoured by your presence.’
‘Don’t be so cheeky,’ she said, wagging her finger at me playfully. ‘I’ve got a mountain of things to sort out and so have you. You don’t need me getting in your way.’
‘Do you have time for a cuppa?’
‘Always.’
We headed through to the kitchen and I switched the kettle on. ‘Let me guess why you’re here.’ I folded my arms and gave her a stern look. ‘I bet you’re dying to know the outcome of your little bit of matchmaking and it has probably killed you not knowing for the past few days.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. What matchmaking?’
‘Auntie Kay!’
