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“Yeah, we were married. And the way we split custody works fine. I like having Emmy the majority of the time. It seems to work for all of us.”
“That’s good then,” Allie mused.
“How are you enjoying living in Devon?” he asked. “It must be a lot different to what you’re used to.” He smiled gently. “Is it really weird to live at the golf course?”
“No.” She laughed. “Living by the sea is new for me – and I’m loving that – but living on a golf course is very familiar.”
He pinched his lips together. “You really are a golf enthusiast, then?”
“Yes.” She beamed. “But my dad owns a couple of golf courses, so I literally grew up on one.”
“No way.” Hugh’s eyes shone with fascination. “That must have been so cool when you were a kid. What an amazing back garden.”
“Yeah. I guess it was a bit different, but I never knew anything else.”
“So that’s how your dad knows the owner of Thurley Beach? I guess there’s like a club for golf course owners or something?”
“Something like that,” she said, her smile slipping as she considered telling him the truth – that her dad owned Thurley Beach club. That she was also part owner.
Except that was quite the can of worms to open, and would mean her telling him she wasn’t going to be staying around for long. She just didn’t feel like bringing that up.
They continued to chat easily over the meal. Without leading questions about architecture, the conversation was much more stimulating. Though Allie guessed from the way Hugh glanced frequently around the room that he was in architecture heaven anyway.
Allie was also mesmerised by their surroundings, not only by the impressive amount of glass around them and the ambience created by the music and the flickering candlelight, but also by the other diners, some of whom wore elaborate cocktail dresses and tuxedos. Many took to the dance floor once they’d eaten and others arrived just to dance the evening away, presumably guests of the hotel.
With her main course long gone and her dessert plate adorned by only a last smudge of raspberry coulis, Allie relaxed back in her chair. Watching the couples dancing felt slightly hypnotic and made her mind wander. After a few peaceful moments, she shifted in her seat and caught Hugh gazing at her.
“Sorry,” she said. “I was miles away.”
“What were you thinking about?” he asked gently.
“My parents.” She released a quick sigh. “I remember them dancing here. I think they were really happy.”
“Good memories then?”
“Yes.” She sat up straighter. “It makes me a bit annoyed with myself.”
“In what way?”
“That I spent so much time refusing to think about my mum. I guess it was some sort of coping mechanism – not letting myself think about her. I thought …” She paused and inhaled deeply.
“That it would hurt too much?” Hugh asked.
“Yes. I thought if I didn’t think about her I wouldn’t miss her, but it doesn’t work like that, does it? And it feels mean that I’d try to erase her from my memories.”
“Does your dad talk about her?”
“Yes.” Tears stung the back of her eyes. “He tries to. I change the subject. It annoyed me that he wanted to talk about her so much. I always thought it was stupid to dwell on the past. But recently when I’ve thought about her … it doesn’t actually hurt that much. It’s sad, of course, but it’s also kind of nice, remembering her. Almost like she’s still here.”
Hugh’s eyes glazed over again as though he were lost in his own thoughts.
“Are you close to your parents?” she asked.
“Not especially.”
“Are they …”
“They’re still alive,” he said. “I just don’t see a lot of them.”
