Page 22 of Will You Stay Another Day?
‘Sorry about that. I would say to stop in the staffroom for a coffee, but I’ve got something on after work.’ It’s for the best.
Dylan held up his hand. ‘Can’t stay in any event. I’ve got a video call arranged with Harry tonight – he’ll be telling me about amazing sunsets and exotic food, I’ll be sharing the latest figures from the business’s books.’
That was good. Absolutely. Exactly what she’d wanted.
‘But seeing as we spent Halloween together, do you fancy joining me for another important calendar date? A Bonfire Night display this Friday? My brother’s obviously not planning to come back any time soon. So I’d appreciate the company. Lots of my mates are married now or have family stuff going on for fireworks night.’
Dylan just said it how it was – she liked that. However, she bit her lip. ‘I don’t think… You see…’ As if she was breaking up with him before they’d even dated, she continued. ‘I’m not… looking for a relationship or anything long-term.’
‘Who said anything about that? See – I just friend-zoned you.’
‘I think I did that first,’ she said.
‘Whatever you say.’
Lili laughed before she could stop herself. Damn this man! Friends. Okay. This was good. They both wanted the same thing. One last meet-up wouldn’t hurt.
‘I’ll text you the details,’ he said and opened the door. ‘Oh. The sock.’ He put it over his hand. ‘Arrivederci, amica,’ he said, making the sock talk, like a puppet. He gave it to her and headed off.
She pulled the sock over her fingers, for some reason wanting to feel where his hand had been. Something rustled inside and she pulled out a beautiful mustard-coloured silver birch leaf.
14
Lili sat in the garden, finished her sandwich and stretched out her arm, having saved a few scraps of cheese. Friday 7 November – the day of her fireworks date with Dylan. Not that it was a date. Far from it. All week she’d thought about him, even though she’d told herself not to. The brain was a contrary thing, prone to demand avoidance. It was easier to think of her dwelling on Dylan as a malfunction of an organ.
Bobbin flew over.
‘Buon appetito,’ she said. Lili absolutely had not been thinking back to a trip to Rome and imagining her and Dylan walking hand in hand past the Colosseum. Because that would be like a teenage crush and Lili was almost thirty with a far bigger handle on her emotions.
‘It’s true, right?’ she said to Bobbin. ‘I’m strong, steadfast, my head won’t be turned by a guy, even if he does look great in a Dracula cape.’
Bobbin stopped eating and hopped from foot to foot. She could have sworn the bird was laughing.
Lili waited until Bobbin finished eating and then got up. The firework display was at Craymouth, a northern Cornish town near the Devon border, around an hour’s drive for both of them. She’d had the day off, which had timed well and made the night out less of a rush. Craymouth was a market town with ancient buildings, wonderful independent shops and big public flowerpots, bursting with rainbows of blooms in the summer. Lili had visited with Em a few times as it hosted musical festivals. Dylan hadn’t said much in his text, just that its Bonfire Night display was a must-see. The event started at seven. They’d agreed to meet at five.
A few hours later she got out of her car at one of Craymouth’s beach car parks. The wind blew strongly enough to chase away the clouds and leave the darkening sky clear of blemishes. Lili should have worn a hat. At least she’d wrapped up with a thick scarf. Over the ocean, the sun was setting, a semi-circle of gold resting on the water, illuminating crests of waves; it highlighted a flock of passing gulls and the striking jagged outline of rocks nearer the shoreline. Its glow reminded Lili of her friendship with Em and how a special person in your life made everything brighter, raising the volume on laughter, intensifying the taste of a meal out, bringing the little, wonderful things into focus.
‘Lili?’
She looked to her right. Dylan was walking away from a blue saloon car. He wore a beanie hat and snug duffle coat, tight jeans and walking boots. Not that she cared about his appearance; no, not at all, nor the fact that Tommo and Meg were right about the air of fishing boat master – someone who was in charge, capable, decisive, and unafraid of facing the elements at their worst. His face broke into a grin and he pointed at her car.
‘Sorry, Lili – nice as it is to see you, I’m compelled to introduce myself to that vision next to you, before we chat. Although I might need a magnifying glass to get a good look.’
Lili was not unaccustomed to such a reaction. Dylan bent over to look through the window. Em had left Lili her car as well as her savings – a classic Mini, tiny compared to its modern equivalent. Em herself had inherited it from an elderly aunt. Colin and Shirl had thought their daughter should sell it, but it had been love at first sight for Em, who promptly named it Colonel Mustard due to its colour. Its engine sounded as loud as an aeroplane’s when you drove fast, and Lili spent most of her journeys expecting it to break down. Yet it had been reliable so far, was cheap to run and easy to park. Both she and Em supported recycling, and taking on this car suited the ethos of Lili’s job. Dylan ran a hand over the bonnet. Every journey in that car also brought back memories of driving with Em. The time they’d almost come off the road because a bunch of lads in the MPV in front had pulled down their trousers and wiggled their bare backsides. Em had flipped them the finger, even though she and Lili were laughing. Then there was the time Em rushed Lili to A&E whilst she was having a heart attack. Okay, it was acute indigestion, but Em liked to dramatise when telling people how she’d make an ace ambulance driver. Colonel Mustard had a tape cassette player, and they’d put in Shirl’s old 80s mixtapes. God, they’d had fun, singing along to Wham and Spandau Ballet on long journeys. Lili had a car of her own but it had been more expensive to run and the seat had never been comfortable. So she’d sold it when Em passed and taken on the classic car instead.
‘Anyway, back to you.’ Dylan bent down and… Oh. He kissed her on the cheek again, like he had in the shop.
Friends did that. They did. It meant nothing.
‘Fancy fish and chips on the beach before we head to the fireworks?’ he said and pointed ahead to a van. ‘The display is near the pier, about a half mile walk to the right.’
They both had cod with a dollop of tartare sauce and Dylan insisted on paying since Lili had provided the snacks on Halloween. The slope down to the beach wasn’t smooth and at one point Dylan reached out his arm. Lili could manage on her own but an urge to slip her hand into his overwhelmed her. Dylan’s firm hold guided her down and she inhaled as the sea air blew even more strongly against her face, through her hair, like an air purifier, removing the dust, the dirt… the sad thoughts.
‘How do you know Craymouth?’ she asked as they sat against dunes, facing the tide, barely visible now through the twilight.
‘Harry and I used to come to music festivals here.’
‘Same! Me and Em. Well, they were more for her really. We’d make a deal to arrive early. I got to browse the shops, which she found boring, then in return I would stand on my feet for three hours, dehydrating and getting tinnitus.’
