Page 29 of On The Edge

16

Cat had a busy shift at the pub that day. There were divers, fishermen and tourists all crowding up the restaurant, and she was run off her feet trying to keep up. She managed to pop into the gallery for a quick lunch, where she found Jess positively ecstatic after selling two of her paintings that morning.

“It’s all these rich Americans we’re getting to the island!” Jess had laughed as she poured a hot steaming coffee for them both. She had put a lunch break sign over the gallery door and the two girls enjoyed some moments relaxing on the sofa upstairs. Cat bit into a cheese sandwich and rifled through a magazine.

“Have you seen Patrick recently?” Jess pushed out her lips and glanced over to Cat innocently.

“Not since the kiss, I’ve been crazy busy.” She flicked over to another page of a skinny model seductively holding a watch. “We never exchanged numbers, but we both know where the other works…. so we’ll see, I suppose!” Cat didn’t really have a plan when it came to Patrick. She realised, however, that deep inside her, she had been waiting for him to get in touch. He knew where she worked; he even knew where she lived, after all. It had been a long time since she had dated anyone, and the thought of letting herself be vulnerable with another person again made her palms sweaty.

“How’s Johnny?” Jess sipped her coffee and kicked her feet out.

“He’s OK, though I’m not sure how long he plans to stay for.” Cat had explained the situation to her friend previously, as Jess had heard reports that a handsome stranger had arrived on the island, and had immediately phoned Cat to investigate.

Jess sighed. “Such a sad thing, I hope they make up.” She took a deep sip from her cup. “I’ve had so many people ask who Johnny is”.

“I hope you haven’t been gossiping about us?” Cat looked up in alarm.

“No! I’ve not said a thing - it’s none of their business about Johnny. I’ve been very good at changing the subject, you’d be proud of me!” Jess nodded with satisfaction.

“Good.” Cat relaxed a little, hoping the locals wouldn't pay too much attention to her new guest. “I’m just giving him space, and if he needs me then I’m there.”

After Cat’s shift at the pub had finished, she came home to find Johnny drinking wine and going through photos.

“Where did you find those?” Cat dropped her bag and marched over to the coffee table where several black and white pictures lay.

“I’m sorry, you know I’m nosy.” Johnny certainly didn’t seem remotely sorry as he picked up another old box from under the table and started rummaging through more photos. “I gathered they weren’t yours, but they're so interesting - look!” He turned over a photo and read out the writing on the back: Catherine and Celia at the beach - 1935 - weird that she had the same name as you!”

“Catherine is a common name,” Cat remarked, as she picked up Johnny’s glass of wine and took a sip.

“Hey! that’s mine!”

“Mine now!” She took another sip. “So where did you get these, were they along with the other old boxes in the shed?” Cat had amassed a few things that had been collecting dust in the house, and made room for them in the shed. She’d only seen old furniture, and the odd bit of faded homeware, nothing that looked particularly important.

“Yes! I thought I'd stumbled across some priceless antiques, but these are almost as interesting. Now - I thought I’d do a bit of gardening this evening.” Johnny took back the wine glass from Cat in such a casual way that Cat didn’t even notice the glass leave her hands. “It was a gorgeous evening, I can’t believe how late it stays bright up here!”

“Yip, the other night I came home from the pub and the sun was only just behind the hill – that was 2am!”

Johnny tucked his hair behind his ear; his usually slicked-back look had disappeared since the first day he had stayed on the island. His thick dark blonde hair now flopped over his eyes as he squinted at a photo before him. “Anyway, I actually wasn't being entirely nosy - I went looking for something to dig up the weeds. And once I saw a few old dusty boxes I couldn’t help myself.” Johnny pulled out his glasses from his hoodie pocket, and put them on to examine the photos closer. The old Johnny would never have been seen dead in glasses, stating on many occasions that they made him look boring and approaching retirement, so had settled for contacts most of his life. Looking at him now, Cat couldn’t help but admire him; the glasses gave him an air of relaxed intelligence, and made him look even more handsome.

“Make yourself useful and get me a glass then!” Cat made herself comfortable on the couch and browsed through the old photographs.

She picked up a coloured photo of a woman about her own age. She was surrounded by flowers and greenery and was laughing shyly at the camera. On the back read “Me in the garden - June 1975”. Cat looked at the young woman, who seemed so content and happy perched on a bench next to the stone archway.

“Oh Margaret,” Cat said warmly, and smiled at the pretty girl.

“Who’s that?” Johnny came in with a large glass of red.

“That’s Margaret, or Marge, as her friend’s knew her. This was her house.”

“She was beautiful,” Johnny said as they both relaxed on the couch, chatting like old friends again and looking happily through boxes of kept memories.