Page 53 of Winter at Wishington Bay
‘Oh…’ he dashed back, grabbing a small square box off the table. ‘I do now. Thanks.’ He moved the box from one hand to the other. ‘It’s just a little thing for one of our cousins. She used to be a ballerina. Well, I guess she still is, but she teaches at a school in Sydney now. I saw it in Flora’s shop the other day and thought she’d like it.’
‘The little china ballerinas?’
‘Yes. Do you think she’ll like it?’
‘Well, obviously I’ve never met her, but I do think they’re beautiful and I know Flora’s had trouble keeping them in stock, they’re so popular. I’m sure your cousin is going to love it.’
‘Thanks. We’re a similar age and always got on well.’
‘It’s lovely you’re still close.’
‘Yeah, she and her husband have been pretty supportive,’ he said, busily employed in doing up Bryan’s coat.
‘When you let them?’
Nate gave a shrug as he reached around me and opened the front door, Bryan’s lead looped over his wrist and the little dog dancing about by my feet in excitement at the prospect of a walk.
I smiled. ‘That’s what I thought.’
‘So, did you have someone you could talk to about it all? I mean, it sounds like you’ve had a tougher time of it than me.’
I fidgeted with my hat and hoiked my bag up on to my shoulder. ‘Not especially, no.’
Nate gave me a look. ‘And there you are telling me off for not opening up.’ I looked up and saw the gentle teasing in his eyes.
‘Flora knows I’m getting a divorce. I mean, everyone at the restaurant does, too. But you’re right, I haven’t really taken much of my own advice about opening up when it comes to that. It wasn’t something I was used to doing and I guess most of the time I’ve wanted to keep it separate from my new life here, as much as that’s possible. I’m happy here and I wasn’t happy before.’
‘You didn’t want to risk tainting this happiness.’
‘Exactly.’
‘I get that.’
We walked on in silence for a moment, Bryan’s toenails tapping out a happy rhythm as we walked.
‘But if you ever want to talk, I’d listen. I promise not to taint anything.’
I looked up at Nate as I walked, seeing the smile in his eyes, the sincerity in his voice. ‘I’ll remember that. Thank you,’ I said, softly.
And then I fell on my face.
16
‘Oh my God! Are you all right?’ Nate’s concerned voice reached me through a fog of mortification that I now felt from my toes to the tips of my ears.
‘Absolutely fine,’ I said, being terribly British about it all and pushing myself up from the floor. I’d been in such a hurry to meet the pavement, I’d failed to find the time to put my hands out and had instead opted to break my fall with my chin with back up from my nose.
‘Here, let me help.’ Nate’s arms were round me before I could answer as he helped me stand, guiding me away from the patch of pavement the weak rays of winter sun had failed to reach, leaving last night’s ice remaining in place. ‘Oh crikey, Soph.’
I finally met his eyes. His brow was covered by his beanie but I guessed he was frowning as his entire gaze focused upon me. In any other circumstance, I might well have relished this attention but right now, embarrassed and sore, I could think of a hundred places I’d rather be now than under Nate McKinley’s scrutiny.
‘I’m fine,’ I said, reaching up to brush the grit off my face. Ouch.
‘We need to get you cleaned up.’
‘Really, Nate, it’s noth—’ I glanced at my cream mitten which was now artfully decorated with a bright red streak. I stared at it for a moment longer then looked up at Nate.
‘Oh. Oh dear.’ And then it all went black.
