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“Thank you for a lovely evening,” she said.
“I can walk you to your door.”
“You don’t need to. I’m fine.”
“I was actually wondering whether it’d be appropriate to invite you in to my place …”
“For a nightcap?” she asked hesitantly.
“Yeah,” he said slowly. “Except I don’t drink so there’s no alcohol in my place.”
“I wondered about that at dinner. I didn’t know if you were on a detox or something, but I didn’t like to ask.”
“It’s a very boring story.”
“So maybe you could tell it to me inside? Over a glass of water?”
“Sure.” He set off down the path with her hand still enclosed in his. “But I mean it when I say it’s a boring story. Not even a story really, just a boring bit of information. It’d probably be better if I told you a different story.” Or better yet, skip the stories completely. Flicking the second light switch, the two lamps came on, bathing the living room in a warm glow.
“It’s strange being back here,” Beth said, setting her shoes by the door.
Trystan bit his lip as he remembered that Beth had stayed in his cottage – and specifically the incident when he’d met Ellie. “I have to tell you something.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to dodge the question about alcohol?”
“I am, because it’s genuinely uninteresting. But I also need to tell you something else. It’s kind of a funny story … or maybe it’s not. Now I’ve set it up as an entertaining anecdote and you might not find it funny at all.” He screwed his features up, wishing he could stop waffling. “It’s more of a confession.”
“Okay. Tell me then.”
They sat close together on the couch and he ran his arm along the back of it as he turned to face her. “The day we met … that morning … I was about to go for a jog and Ellie came out of the cottage in floods of tears.”
“Really?” She looked suspicious and slightly nervous. “Where was I?”
“In the shower.” He winced. “Ellie told me her granny had fallen in the kitchen.”
“What?” Beth gave a small shake of the head before her eyes widened in comprehension. “Oh my god!”
“Yeah. I guess she wanted to look at the ashes but knocked them off the shelf.”
Beth paled as she put a hand over her mouth. “She was curious so I tried to explain what the ashes are, but that only led to more questions. In the end I put them up high and brushed her questions aside. That probably made her more curious. Had they spilled?”
He nodded. “They were all over the counter and the floor and the chair. I collected them all up and managed to put them back but …”
“But what?” she asked, her brow wrinkled.
“While I was tipping them back into the urn, Ellie sneezed.”
The confusion in Beth’s features was quickly replaced with understanding. “She sneezed in the ashes?”
“Mmhm.” He braved a smile. “I was engulfed in a cloud of ash.”
“No,” she whispered, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards.
“I was covered,” he told her, smiling as he thought about it. “But we cleaned everything up and I intended to hang around and explain everything to you, but Ellie marched me to the door and shoved me back outside.” He chewed the edge of his lip. “I should’ve told you later that day, but I didn’t know you and I had no idea how you’d react.”
“I’m so sorry. You must have thought you had some nutter staying in your house who took their dead mother’s ashes on holiday with her.”
“It did cross my mind to wonder if it was sensible to invite you to stay in my mum’s house with her.”
