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“You don’t want kids?”
“Just notyet,I think. And I didn’t see the point in getting married, but it became this huge issue.”
“It must have been a difficult break-up after ten years.”
“Yes, and no. It’s pretty amicable. It’s hard to completely cut someone out of your life after being together for so long. It’d be nice to think we can stay friends, at least at some point. But that might be unrealistic.”
“Do you miss her?”
“Yes, and no.” Shifting in his seat, he rested his forearms on the table. “Do you want another glass of wine?”
“No, thanks.” Her current glass was still half full. “I take it that’s your way of putting an end to the conversation?”
“Yeah. I could probably have been more subtle.” His eyes sparkled in the flickering candlelight. “How did you choose St Mary’s for your holiday destination?”
A heaviness in her chest made her shift in the seat. She could definitely use his tactic of changing the subject or make up some generic reason for their trip. Talking about it with Trystan felt oddly natural though.
“My mum used to come here for family holidays when she was a kid. She always talked about coming back but never got around to it, so we planned this trip for my birthday treat. It was supposed to be the three of us. Me, Mum and Ellie.” She paused, focusing on breathing evenly. “Mum passed away three months ago. I thought about cancelling the trip but …” Her bottom lip quivered as she shrugged. “I decided to come anyway.”
Trystan moved his water glass aside and slipped his hand across the table to cover hers. “I’m so sorry. Was she ill?”
“No. Perfectly fit and healthy. My dad has Alzheimer’s and she’d been to visit him at the care home. She liked to walk there. Always said the fresh air and exercise kept her healthy.” She frowned at the irony. “She was on the pedestrian crossing. The sun was in the driver’s eyes and he didn’t see her.” Her chest felt as though it was being squeezed, but her words continued to tumble out. “He stopped and stayed with her. Held her hand while they waited for the ambulance, but she died before it got to them. I met him afterwards. He was distraught. Nice man. I felt sorry for him.”
“That’s awful,” Trystan whispered, his hand tightening around hers.
“When we planned to come to Scilly, Mum was so excited to show me all the places she remembered.” She sniffed. “I had no idea until she died, but in her will it stated that she wanted her ashes scattered on her favourite beach on St Mary’s. I guess she’d planned on showing me when we were here, but I don’t know which beach it is.” Her words were coming out garbled, but she couldn’t seem to stop. “I thought I’d just pick a nice spot somewhere. I was actually glad when it rained all week so I didn’t have to deal with it … and now … I don’t think I can do it.”
A hand on her arm made her turn to her right, and she blinked back tears to focus on the older lady on the next table, who was holding out a packet of tissues.
“Thank you.” Pulling her hand from Trystan’s she fumbled with the packet, only realising how much she was crying when the tissue was soaked through within seconds of touching it to her cheeks. And the tears wouldn’t stop.
She sniffed loudly and felt a pang of embarrassment that she was making a scene in the middle of the restaurant. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He reached out to her again, but she was already out of her seat.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” she said and made a dash for the bathroom.
CHAPTERNINE
“Poor thing,” the woman on the next table said after Beth rushed out of the room.
Trystan smiled weakly in reply, then took a sip of his water. Tapping on the table, he kept an eye on the door until he couldn’t take the waiting any longer and got out of his seat.
In the hallway, he paused before tentatively pushing the door to the ladies’ and softly calling out to Beth.
“I’ll just be a minute,” she said in reply.
He ventured further, catching sight of her blotchy face in the mirror above the sink. “Is there anyone else in here?”
“No.” She shook her head and their eyes met in the mirror. “I’m so sorry. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Are you all right?” It was a stupid question; clearly she wasn’t all right. He was torn between giving her privacy and wanting to comfort her.
“I can’t seem to stop crying,” she said, losing her composure and raising a tissue to her cheeks.
He rested his hand in the centre of her back and rubbed lightly between her shoulder blades. “You need to stop trying.”
She lifted her chin. “What?”
