“You left them in…”
Realization broke over me. “I left them in the hallway when I entered. So I did. Oh God, you must have thought I was making such a point. I don’t even remember leaving them behind. What a mess.”
Steve cleared his throat. “What I need to understand is…” He hesitated. “Look, I’m not jealous or anything but…why is it such a big deal to you what Rachel and Dan did?
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I really can’t explain it rationally. It just made me sick.” Rachel shrank lower into the sofa, and her face crumpled with tears. I took her hand and squeezed it to show her that I was no longer aggrieved. “I don’t know why it made me sick. I’m sorry, I feel really stupid.” I grimaced and took a deep breath before plunging into a second apology.
“And while we’re on the subject of sorry…” I turned to Steve, fixing my eyes onto his. “I’m sorry I ran away from you.” Steve raised a hand and opened his mouth to speak, but I ploughed on regardless. I needed to say my piece.
“I waited for you at the end of the road. I wanted to come back and apologize, but then you whizzed by in the car and I knew I’d gone too far. You weren’t at the station when I finally got there…”
Steve couldn’t hold back any longer. Surprise played all over his face. “You were
behind
me? I thought you’d gone, taken the first train…”
We stared at each other, aghast.
“Is that why you didn’t answer your phone when I tried to ring you? Because you thought I’d left you there in Pitlochry?” My voice was small and tremulous, but I had to see this through.
Steve blinked. “Answer my phone? When?
What?
”
“On the Monday. I rang you at lunchtime and then again…later.” I tried very hard not to look at Dan or Rachel while I said that, but they got my meaning anyway.
Steve was shocked. “I didn’t know you’d called. I wasn’t in.”
“I noticed,” I responded dryly.
“I…I needed time to think. I was out at Richmond park.”
“Without your mobile?”
Steve shrugged helplessly. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I was annoyed, too, you know. What a rubbish trip.”
I giggled. Then I laughed. Then I guffawed. My friends looked at me with astonishment. I wiped tears of mirth from my eyes. “Ah. Life,” I pronounced between snorts of laughter. “You’ve gotta love it. It’s a complete bitch sometimes.”
“But thankfully nobody’s died,” Dan supplied, playing on one of his favorite sayings.
When the moment had passed, Rach turned all serious again.
“Will you forgive me?” she pleaded with me.
“
Of course I will, silly moo.” We hugged hard.
“And you’re not cross?” She needed to hear it again.
“I’m not,” I confirmed. “But I won’t say I wasn’t. Oh my God, I was so
angry.
”
We hugged hard again and said no more. Steve and Dan simply looked on.
My turn to grovel, from the very bottom of my heart. “Will you forgive me?” I begged of Steve, hoping that he would see the pleading in my eyes. “Please?”
He said nothing at first and I could feel my face freeze in its hopeful expression. But gradually, a lovely, lazy smile spread across Steve’s face and he spoke. “Of course I will, my love. And I am sorry, too. For everything.” He held out his arms uncertainly, and I launched myself at him, embracing him into a hug that I never wanted to end. Thank goodness the nightmare was over.
I retrieved another bottle of wine and was busy opening it, feeling flushed and happy and overwhelmed with relief, when Dan threw out the killer comment.
“You look…
well
,” he suddenly announced. “Happy. Rosy. Serene. I’ve not seen you looking like this for… I dunno, for as long as I can remember.”
Steve and Rachel examined me closely, and Rachel seconded Dan’s observation. “He’s right, you know.”
I set down the bottle of wine deliberately and lowered my bottom onto my chair.
“D’you know,” I started carefully. “It’s weird that you should say that. I kind of… Well, I feel that way, what you said. Happy. I feel well. Content. I came here…” I poured myself a little glass of wine and had a quick sip.
“I was all in pieces when I came here. Somehow, I’ve put myself together again. I didn’t even have to do anything, it just sort of happened. Things are different here and you get a new perspective on what really matters. And I’ve slept so well…”
“Why here?” Rachel burst out. “I mean, it looks lovely and all that…but how
on earth
did you end up here?”
I smiled to myself.
Good question
.
“When I took off that Tuesday afternoon, I simply needed to get away, as far as and as fast as possible. I had no plans beyond that. So I took the Eurostar to get onto the continent. And …I don’t know really. Maybe it was fate. I was searching the Internet and I had this idea that an island would be good, and one thing led to another…” I rolled my shoulders helplessly. While I could recall the steps I took to get here, the reasoning, the logic was elusive even to me. It had simply seemed like a good thing to do at the time.
The three of them hung on to my every word. I laughed uncertainly. “Anyway, the only missing piece was my friends. And what I left behind—the mess. So…if you hadn’t come, I would have had to come back. But…” I raised my glass in a toast. “I’m so glad you came. I’m thrilled. You have no idea what that means to me. Here’s to being there for each other.”
“To being there for each other,” Steve, Rachel and Dan echoed and we clinked glasses.
There was the small awkward moment that so often follows a toast, and I experienced the overwhelming desire to do something crazy, to make my friends comprehend the grandeur and effect of this island.
“Hey,” I shouted, struck by inspiration. “Let’s go to the beach. I want you to feel this place, even if you can’t see it.”
Seaside boy Steve was on his feet instantly. “Oh, do let’s,” he agreed. “Some fresh air and some surf. Fabulous.”
Dan looked a tad dubious but was quickly overruled when Rachel joined in the fray. “Yay! A midnight walk to the beach,” she enthused, always one for adventures. “This is so exciting. And weirdly romantic, don’t you think?”
Seeing our bemused expressions, she explained. “Four friends, finally reunited, after a lovely dinner…going to brave nature, going to the beach together in the dark, standing as one against the forces of the wild…”
Steve chuckled. “Methinks you’ve drunk a bit too much,” he ventured.
“Have not,” Rachel pouted and swatted at him with her free hand, the one that wasn’t still clutching her wine glass. The sudden movement made her spill some wine on the table, and she looked at her nearly empty glass with feigned surprise. “Oh well, maybe I have.” She hiccupped and added, “All the more reason for some fresh air, huh?”
Laughing and bantering and teasing each other, we geared up for a quick jaunt down the beach. Sensibly, my three visitors had brought rain gear and sturdy shoes, and I found a selection of torches in the tardis-like downstairs storage cupboard. Suitably attired, in high spirits and full of anticipation, we left the cottage lights a-blazing to guide us on the way back, and set off for the beach.
I led the way, taking my friends up the little path across the dunes, over the top and down onto a big expanse of beach. It was slightly surreal, being out at night in the dunes, on the beach. We stumbled-tripped our way over hidden roots and clumps of grass, unexpected holes and ditches. There was much shrieking being done by Rachel and me, and the men dutifully helped and supported us.
Finally, we reached level ground as we hit the tideline. The sea was going out and there was a thin layer of bubbly foam where the water was reluctantly abandoning its hold on the sand. Owing to yesterday’s high winds, the North Sea was still agitated and the surf was booming and crashing ominously. Yet at this moment, the sky was clear and there were tiny pinpricks of starlight twinkling above us. We had switched off our torches, and as our eyes adjusted to the darkness, it was just possible to make out the black hulk of the dunes behind and the vast wideness of sea in front of us.
It was one of those majestic, imposing moments that had helped me find my equilibrium throughout my stay here, and I fervently hoped the others would feel the same. I breathed and I gazed out toward the invisible horizon.
Steve gently took my hand. “Awesome,” he whispered, barely audible across the hissing of the surf. Rachel stood on my other side and also took my hand. Dan took hers, and we formed a solid line of friendship braced against the harsh and unforgiving elements.
We stood like this for a long time. Everyone succumbed to the magic of the moment; there was no need for words. My heart swelled with joy and love, and I couldn’t remember being happier in my entire life.
By silent accord, Dan and Steve eventually moved toward each other, forming a circle, pulling us into a big group hug. A bond was being forged that was stronger than a thousand words. Misdeeds and misunderstandings were put behind us, and the sea pulled them out with her, washing them away, dragging them under, never to be seen again.
We got back to the cottage feeling windswept, with rosy cheeks each and a distinct tang of salt on our lips. As we removed layers of outer clothing, it suddenly struck me that we all looked stripped to our bare selves. Not in a literal sense, of course. Dan was in sweatshirt and jeans. Steve, ditto. Rachel wore no makeup but her skin was glowing, her hair was tousled and messily contained in a butterfly grip, and she looked beautiful.
Rachel caught me eyeing her up and gave me a grin. “D’you know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen all of us so relaxed,” she echoed my thoughts. “There’s definitely something about this place.”
I smiled and was about to reply when Steve was in front of me on bended knee. Rachel exhaled sharply and Dan whistled softly. Steve said nothing to begin with, he just took my left hand and regarded me with his kind, soulful melted-chocolate eyes. Blood roared in my ears and I could hear the sound of my own breathing, turning shallow with excitement.
Steve turned my hand palm up and studied it carefully, as if he was hoping to read my destiny from it. He gently caressed my heart line with his thumb, then turned my hand back over and planted a kiss on the back of it. Raising his eyes to meet mine, he finally asked the question.
“Will you marry me, Sophie?”
Rachel exploded in gleeful squeals and jumped up and down like a child on Christmas Eve until Dan stepped across to calm her down. I looked at the two of them, now loosely hugging while awaiting my answer, and I retuned my gaze to Steve. A succession of snapshots from the past six months flashed before me. Seeing Steve in that church, knowing he was The One. Glimpsing him in the hospital when I was bringing Rachel in. Having him appear by my bedside when I was in hospital myself. Dan and Steve doing their weird double-act in the hospital. Steve towering over me as I was lying in the mud, refusing to help me up. Steve standing at the cottage door earlier, looking hopeful, expectant, anxious.
Yes
, I said in my head.
Yes, yes, yes.
Aloud, my voice uttered something completely different.
“Why now?”
“What?
” Rachel gasped before Dan had a chance to silence her. Steve didn’t blink or bat an eyelid. Instead, he considered the merit of my question. He remained on bended knee as he started speaking seriously.
“Now, because you know and I know that we are meant for each other.” He swallowed and I nodded, just ever so slightly, for him to carry on.
“Now, because you got away once. Because I had planned the perfect moment in the perfect place, and it all went catastrophically wrong.” He gave a wry chuckle.
I had an uncomfortable idea that his plans might have had something to do with the Scotland trip, and that I had ruined more than just a romantic getaway.
“So, now…because this is perfect. Because I love you. Because I’m not letting you go again. And because I want your two best friends to be there as we take this monumental step.”
There were muffled sniffs coming from Rachel’s direction, and when I took a quick peek, it appeared she was crying. She was wringing her hands and waiting for my answer almost as anxiously as Steve.
Dan gave me one of his irresistible smiles. He looked completely relaxed, at ease, happy.
Do it
, he mouthed.
What are you waiting for?
For a few seconds, my gaze rested on Dan as I was trying to figure out what my subconscious had just registered. The necklace—his half of our ring—it was gone. He wasn’t wearing it. We had both sworn we would wear our halves, always, to remind ourselves of what we had. We had been so proud of this romantic notion, but it hadn’t worked. Without really noticing, I touched my hand to my own bare neck, and Dan nodded.
“I got it still and keep it safe,” he said very quietly. Steve and Rachel were somewhat surprised by this seeming random comment, but my heart soared. I still had mine, too, and was keeping it safe. Dan and I had reached the same unspoken conclusion—it was time to let go. I smiled widely. Time for my answer.