One Night (2 page)

Eve didn't know why she went after the man. In fact as she walked she told herself that she wasn't going after him at all. He was just walking towards town and so was she. That didn't explain why she kept walking along the front when she would normally have turned away from it though. Or why she walked a little bit slower than she normally did so she didn't overtake him. He was struggling with a big bag, stopping every so often to reposition it on his shoulder before he moved off again, and it was slowing him down. It looked like a soldier's kit bag, long and made of a thick green canvas. Maybe he was a squaddie back from overseas. He had a look about him, a toughness that made her think that might be the case. And that long scar on his cheek had to have come from somewhere, although it might as easily have been a bottle in a bar fight as a bullet.

None of that explained why she was following him though; in fact it made her feel like she was an idiot. She didn't know anything about him and here she was wandering after him (in the same direction as him, she corrected herself quickly) on empty streets as night started to fall.

She thought back to the moment their eyes had met in the cafe. Was he trouble or just troubled she wondered? He certainly looked as lost as she felt. Floating through life still trying to figure out what it all meant and why she couldn’t find the happiness that others seemed to be able to just pluck out of the air.

Tonight was supposed to have been so special. Her first date in months. Her chance to pluck some of that happiness for herself.

When Alex had called her the week before and asked her she’d felt elated one minute and sick the next. He was a lovely guy. Handsome, funny, kind. And he was normal. Not an idiot or a psycho like most of the guys she’d dated. Not involved in anything dodgy. A normal decent guy. They’d met at her gym and got talking, he’d asked her about the piece of equipment she was using and after she’d finished telling him the conversation had just continued. She’d seen him
there a few days later when she went again and then the next day she’d found herself going even though she hadn’t planned to. The more she spoke to him the more she liked him, to the point that she worried she was blushing whenever he said hello. So when he’d called and asked her if she’d like to go for a drink she’d been delighted.

As soon as she’d put the phone down she’d started worrying. What would she wear, what would she say, would he like her? The gym was a safe environment, their conversations bookended by the time they spent next to each other on the exercise bikes or cross trainers.

She’d tried to take her mind off the things she couldn’t control by buying a new outfit to wear. She’d ended up with a pair of dark skinny jeans that would keep her legs warm but still show their shape. She didn’t go to the gym three times a week to hide herself away, especially on a date. The high heeled ankle boots she’d chosen gave her legs even more shape. She’d bought a silk top that clung to her like water and which had a scooped enough neckline to give a hint of cleavage without being tarty. Over the top of that was a fitted blazer that hugged her curves almost as tightly. It was smart and when she took it off the top underneath would have even more impact. Finally she had a big colourful scarf to wrap around herself, both to accessorise and to keep the winter chill out. Gok Wan, she decided, would be proud of her. It was certainly a big change from the gym gear Alex normally saw her in. She couldn’t really afford any of it but she’d worry about that when her credit card bill came. The new clothes had made her feel better about the date, more confident. She’d been laying them out on the bed and checking them for creases when her phone rang that morning. She saw it was Alex straight away from the display. He must be ringing now, she thought, to confirm it was all still on.

The first thing he said
was, “Eve I’m sorry.”

She didn’t cry until she’d hung up the phone but once she’d done that the tears came freely. His ex had contacted him, he said. She wanted to try again and he felt he had to give it a chance. Eve didn’t know if it was bullshit or not but she supposed it didn’t matter. Either way she was on her own tonight. Again. She looked at the clothes on the bed. Over a hundred quids worth. Money she didn’t have. Should she take them back? Right then she wanted to tear them to shreds. Destroy them for reminding her of the happiness she’d briefly felt. Instead she left them on the bed and just walked out of the house. Maybe, she thought as she slammed the door behind her, maybe all she deserved were the psychos and the idiots. Maybe that was all she’d ever have. That or nothing.

She walked done to the esplanade and down a ramp onto the beach. The tide was out. The shingle and patches of sand that made up the beach exposed. She walked along it, eyes down, letting the blur of the stones as they passed through her eyes hypnotise her. She’d done this when her dad had died. Fifteen years ago now. She’d walked along the same beach as a kid just looking at the shingle and hearing the waves. Trying to blot everything else out as she cried so hard it hurt. The pain today was nothing compared to that but it still made her ache inside. She’d let her guard down. Let someone sneak into her heart. When her dad had died she’d sworn to herself that she would always be strong. It was temptation that had killed him. The false promise of something for nothing. Why did being strong mean she couldn’t be happy though?  

After an hour on the beach letting the cold numb her and the sea spray wash the pain away she had decided that tonight didn’t need to be a complete waste of time. Fuck Alex, she’d go out anyway and see what the town had to offer. Maybe she’d meet someone and maybe she wouldn’t but either way she’d be doing something rather than sitting on the sofa watching reality TV and drinking cheap white wine from the Co-op. She’d wear the new clothes and enjoy herself. Her one concession to common sense was the boots, they could go back. The heels looked bloody lethal.

So here she was, stalking a stranger along the seafront like some desperate lunatic. She looked up and saw that he had stopped completely and put his bag down on the pavement. Eve didn’t know what to do. There were no side streets between them so she couldn’t just turn off. She felt embarrassed that she’d followed him. Stupid. Should she just walk past him? Or turn and walk the other way?

As she got closer to him she saw him pull out a pack of Silk Cut. He put one in his mouth and lit it, the flare of the lighter illuminating his face as he sucked the flame into the cigarette. She examined him again in the orange light, wondering what it was that had drawn her to him. His jaw was strong, his cheekbones high and defined. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on his face and she wondered if the same was true for the rest of him. He was handsome rather than good looking, she decided. Ruggedly attractive but not fragile or pampered looking like a model. His features were angular, interesting, but it was the scar that defined his look. It stood out from the stubble on his cheek and shone even after the lighter was out. The white line cutting through the dark hair might have made another man less attractive but on him it had the opposite effect. It should have made him look tough but instead it just made her wonder what pain he’d suffered in his life. It was a physical sign of the hurt inside him.

And then there were his eyes. A cold shining blue with that sad lost look in them that reminded her of her own. He looked like the bag was the least of the weights he was carrying. In the cafe she’d thought he might be bad news but now, somehow, she knew that he wasn’t. 

“Fuck it,” she thought. She’d be sensible and strong tomorrow. Tonight she was going to do some living.

As she reached out for the cigarette Joel saw that she didn’t have a ring on her finger, not the one that counted anyway. That didn’t mean she was single but the fact that she had approached him told him something didn’t it?

“You were in the cafe,” he said. Not a question, a statement of fact. Had she followed him, he thought suddenly. And if she had why? He held out the lighter and watched her as she lit her cigarette. Could he trust her? Did he even need to? Maybe he should just say goodbye and walk on. 

“Yes,” she said and smiled. “You’re very observant.”

He smiled back and felt the worry lift a little. It felt like days since he’d had a normal conversation with someone. “Eagle eyed,” he said.

“Modest too.”

“I have a lot to be modest about.” That got a laugh from her. It was a line that usually did, if the girl had enough brains to get it anyway and there were a lot who didn’t. He’d lifted it out of some detective novel he’d read while waiting for a job to start. Damn, he was getting into it now, the banter. The more he talked to her the more he liked her. Maybe he could take a night off from running and relax. No-one knew where he was, they’d still be looking for him in London wouldn’t they?

“I’m sure you do,” she said and smiled at him.

He smiled back, “You know I’m not from round here...”

“I could tell,” she said, “your knuckles aren’t dragging on the ground.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“It might be.”

He could sense that she was warming up to it too. He liked her, he realised. Just talking to her felt good, and that smile of hers made him want to do whatever he could to conjure it up again.

“So, what with not being from around here I need a guide,” he said.
“Someone who knows the town...”

“To show you the sights, that kind of thing?” she was smiling again and it made him feel happier than he had for a long time.

“Exactly that. I don’t suppose...” He let it hang.

“I know anyone who could do it? I’m not sure.”

“I did already have someone in mind. Maybe you know her, she’s about five foot five, blonde hair, great figure and her smile...” he stopped there. Not because he didn’t know what to say but because he was worried it would be too much. 

Eve felt the heat rising in her cheeks. It was a while since a man had spoken to her this
way. Alex certainly hadn’t. He’d been polite and sweet, not like this. Alex was safe. He was sensible. He ticked all the boxes. Anyone of her friends would have told her he was a good catch. A nice guy. The idea of spending time with him had made her happy but it hadn’t given her the butterflies that she had now. He hadn’t thrilled her like this rugged stranger did. Her body was tingling in places it hadn’t for a long time.

Joel could see her starting to blush and worried that even though he’d reined himself in he’d ended up going too far. Chatting up women was normally second nature to him but she was different somehow. She made him nervous in a way he wasn’t used to. Maybe because something about her made him actually care what she thought of
him.

“Too much?” he said.

“Just enough,” she said and hit him with that smile again. “Shall we go for a drink?”

He said yes.

It was about five pm when they walked into the pub. It was quiet, just the barman behind the bar polishing glasses and a barmaid straightening coasters on the tables. The after work rush obviously hadn't hit yet and Joel hoped there wouldn’t be one at all. He knew that the risk of letting his guard down like this was low but still the fewer people who saw him the better. It would be alright, he told himself. They weren't in the town centre and even if they were he doubted it would be that buzzing on a week
night. He had to remember he wasn't in London anymore. This was Southend in winter, about as dead and pointless place as you could think of.

He found a table in the corner and slid his bag underneath it
out of sight.

The barman watched him closely as he approached. A bit too closely Joel thought but he w
as probably being paranoid. Maybe the pub didn’t get many customers who weren’t locals. The man seemed happy enough to take Joel’s money and he made the kind of small talk that barmen make as he poured the drinks.

Joel looked at the woman as he walked back to the table. She was sitting facing him shrugging off the jacket she’d been wearing outside. She’d had it on in the cafe too so it was only now that he got a good view of her shape. He liked what he saw.

He handed her the glass of wine she’d asked for and she thanked him.

“You know I don’t even know your name?” he said when he was sitting opposite her.

“Yes I know,” she said. “I have the same problem.”

He took a sip of beer then put the glass down and took his own coat off, putting it on the stool next to him.

Eve watched him, smiling. He had just a T-shirt on underneath it, a tight one that clung tightly to his torso. She could see the outline of his pectoral muscles and the flatness of his stomach. His thick upper arms stretched the sleeves of the T-shirt slightly. His forearms were smaller but still powerful looking. He carried himself as if he had complete confidence in his body but without the air of vanity that she saw in some of the guys at the gym. He doesn’t care about how it looks, she thought to herself, he cares about what it can do. She wondered how far that confidence stretched. What would he be like in bed? She imagined lifting that T-shirt up and over his head, kissing his chest... God, what was wrong with her? She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had thoughts like this about a man and she’d only just met him!

He cleared his throat and she looked up blushing furiously, realising she’d been staring at his torso. She quickly picked up her glass and took a sip, her hand shaking slightly and pouring more of the wine into her mouth than she’d meant to. She gulped it down, worried he’d think she was a lush, her cheeks flushing even hotter.

He smiled, “I said ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours’”.

She thought about the fantasy she’d been having and choked on the last of the wine. Jesus he could see right through her! She started coughing and that turned into a laugh when she saw the look of worry on his face.

“I meant our names!” he said and she laughed even harder, putting her glass down so the wine didn’t slop everywhere. He was laughing too she saw, his face cracked open by a huge smile. When he laughed his cheeks moved up and the scar disappeared. She realised that the sadness was gone from his eyes too. He looked like a different man, but still an extremely attractive one.

The laughter was infectious, like waves on the beach rolling over the two of them. It bent them both over, making them lean in towards each other. He lifted his right hand and put it on her shoulder. The gesture felt completely natural to her and yet she realised as he did it that she couldn’t remember the last time a man had touched her. His hand was heavy, reassuring. It reminded her of hand of the priest when she’d gone up for communion with her mum as a girl. Mum took the bread and wine but Eve was too little so as she knelt at the altar the priest would lay his hand on her shoulder as he blessed her. That simple touch had always filled her with a sense of peace that made her think maybe there was a god. This wasn’t quite like that, but it did
feel good. She felt happier and safer in that moment than she has since her dad died. Her laughing started to die down and his did too.     

“Blimey,” he said when they’d both stopped. “Is everyone around here this nuts or just you?” That almost set her off again but she managed to keep it under control.

“Just me,” she said. “Me...Eve.”

“Hello, Eve,” he said. “Me Joel.”