Page 50 of Lessons in Love at the Seaside Salon

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

It was nice, having the fantasy of Sam’s affection to keep her company while Billy was staying with his dad.

On those long, empty weekend days Evie didn’t feel so alone, because she would let her mind wander into maybes and one-days and isn’t it funny how those can feel so real?

How you can have memories of something that didn’t exist?

She is sure, for example, that she and Sam had a lovely house together, and that Billy was happy with Sam as his stepdad.

That they’d taken holidays together and gone on long walks, just the two of them, and they’d never fallen out of love.

Those fake memories feel real – she has sensations in her body as she recalls them. Happiness, then the grief of knowing they won’t become real. She’s never before experienced grief for something that didn’t exist. It makes her feel like an imposter, and that’s increasing her misery.

She should never have let her fantasising get this far.

With clear eyes, in hindsight, she can see that Sam never gave her any signs of being anything other than her friend.

Yes, he was friendlier to her than anyone else in the salon – but you do that when you like someone.

Also when you fancy someone, true. It’s her fault for presuming things, though.

She shouldn’t have done that. He gave her an inch and she took two hundred miles.

There’s so much she shouldn’t have done. The shame of it sometimes feels worse than the grief.

Not that anyone’s thinking about her that much – she can’t imagine Trudy is spending time thinking she was a fool. In fact, Trudy has been really kind about the whole thing, along with having to manage a workplace in which she has one staff member recovering from a misplaced crush on another.

Sam could have left after her confession. No one would have blamed him. Instead he’s carried on being his wonderful self, which doesn’t help her get over him.

Argh, she needs to get out of this house. Go for a walk. Work off all this glumness. Maybe she should just keep walking and exhaust herself. That’d be a way to stop thinking.

Picking up her Walkman and shoving some cash and the house key in her jeans pocket, she heads out, trying not to slam the front door even though slamming doors has been in her repertoire lately. It’s a way of working off the angst.

Out her gate and turning right, she sees a familiar figure closing a car door.

Oliver. Oh great. She’s trying to get over Sam and here’s his brother, grinning at her as if she’s got a bow wrapped around her.

Why does he irritate her so much now? Maybe because he reminds her of how Sam came into her life.

‘Oh. Hi,’ she says, hoping he’ll pick up on her tone, which is of the keep-away variety.

‘I was just coming to see you!’ His tone suggests that he has not, in fact, detected that she doesn’t want to see him.

‘Really?’ She wants to ask why but no doubt he’s about to tell her.

‘Yeah. Ah – but you’re going out.’

She stares at him.

He laughs nervously. ‘Of course you are,’ he says. ‘That’s why you’re out the front of your house.’ Glancing down, he says, ‘Sneakers? Are you going for a walk?’

She nods.

‘Can I come with you?’

He’s wearing sneakers too. How convenient.

‘Sure,’ she says, because she can hardly say she doesn’t want him to – he’s Sam’s brother, she’s still working with Sam, so she has to be accommodating even as she resents doing it. ‘I was just going to set off,’ she says. ‘No fixed destination.’

‘Even better.’ He smiles as if he means it. ‘I love a ramble.’

She can’t help laughing – who uses the word ramble any more?

‘Sure,’ she says again, then turns in the direction of the beach, which is down the hill and a nicer walking prospect than up the hill. The walk will take them by the salon, but it’s past closing time for a Saturday so they won’t risk running into Sam.

‘So why did you come to see me?’ She needs to know.

‘I wanted to talk about Sam.’

Her blood runs cold. Funny how quickly thoughts manifest in the body. How they can change you so fast there must only be a millisecond between hearing something, reacting to it, then feeling it.

Cold, yes, she’s cold. Because she can’t imagine what Oliver is about to say to her, yet there’s no way it can be good. There’s no way it can be something like he really loves you after all.

‘I’m really sorry,’ he says.

They’re walking slowly, so it wouldn’t be dramatic to stop right then, except she doesn’t know if she wants to look at his face. See the pity there. Because pity was in his voice.

‘About what?’ she asks.

‘He told me …’ Oliver sighs. ‘Told me you had some feelings.’

‘Oh god,’ she breathes, wanting to turn around and run back to the house.

‘He was upset. He thought he’d led you on.’

‘He did!’ Since the topic has been raised, she’s going to run with it. ‘He was so nice to me!’

Glancing at Oliver, she sees him frowning.

‘You thought that meant he was keen on you?’

‘Of course. Men just aren’t …’ She stops.

‘Just aren’t what?’

She doesn’t respond.

‘Just aren’t that nice unless they’re interested, is that it?’ He sounds sad.

Of course, he’s included in that. He’s always been nice to her and he was interested in her for a while.

‘Not usually.’

‘You must know some badly behaved men,’ he says softly. ‘Most men I know aren’t like that.’

‘Then maybe you know better-than-average men.’ Now she stops and turns toward him. ‘What are you doing here? What do you want?’

The street sounds so quiet while she waits for him to respond. No cars going past. The occasional bird noise. No wind to move the trees.

‘I wanted to apologise.’

‘How is it your fault?’

‘I should have told you he’s gay. That way you wouldn’t –’

‘Why? That’s ridiculous. Me falling for your brother isn’t your responsibility.’ Even if she’d like to make it so – that way she could absolve herself.

‘I know. I just …’ He sighs and puts his hands on his head. ‘I would never want you to be upset, Evie. Never.’ His hands drop. ‘I only want the best for you.’

She has long known this about him, she thinks.

After she told him they couldn’t work romantically, he wasn’t upset with her.

He wanted to stay in her life. He wished her well.

What she doesn’t understand is why, considering she has never given him much time or done anything amazing – for him, for anyone.

Sure, she takes care of Billy but being a mum isn’t amazing, it’s just a fact.

Who is she, to be deserving of this man wanting the best for her? She decides to find out.

‘Why?’ she says.

Now a car drives past, its muffler clearly in need of replacing.

‘I care about you,’ he says once it’s quiet again.

They’re so exposed here on the street, yet the way he says it makes her feel as if she’s in a cave with him, just the two of them.

‘Yes, but … why?’

It’s the biggest question she could ask him, yet also mundane. The moment feels freighted with something but she doesn’t know what.

When he smiles it’s full of warmth and understanding. ‘Do we ever know why?’ he says.

That’s not an answer she understands, so she frowns.

‘I love my brother because he’s my brother,’ he goes on. ‘We’re family. I love my friends but if you think about it, why do we love our friends? Because we know them. Because we grew up with them, maybe. Not usually because we stop and think about their personalities.’

‘So … love is just familiarity?’

And why are they even talking about love?

‘Maybe,’ he says lightly. ‘Maybe it’s just something that happens.

You know – you meet someone and you just like them, right?

If they asked you why you liked them you couldn’t really say.

Once you get to know them you might be able to say, but it doesn’t change the fact you liked them to begin with. ’ He smiles again.

He smiles a lot, she’s noticed.

‘I’ve always liked you,’ Oliver says. ‘I could try to explain it but it just … is . I don’t need to do anything with it. Except I want to.’

Is he talking about apologising to her for Sam? Because she feels fine about Sam now, for some reason. Not embarrassed any more. Maybe Oliver has done that for her.

‘I know you don’t feel the same way,’ he says. ‘But I really hope you’ll give me a chance to spend more time with you.’ Another smile. ‘Maybe you’ll change your mind.’

She knew this was coming. On some level, this has always been coming.

She and Oliver have always been moving toward each other.

Over the past few years, in and out of each other’s lives, him showing up, her not seeing it for what it was.

Love. That’s what he’s talking about. That’s what he’s offering her.

That could be why, standing on this Terrigal street, with no wind and no cars and hardly any birds, it feels as if the world tilts on its axis and she has the choice to tilt with it or resist.

She closes her eyes, feels the air over her skin. Notices how seconds feel like minutes then hours, how time is changing shape and she is zooming backward and forward and it all feels more certain than it ever has.

When she opens her eyes he is standing right in front of her. As he has, in some ways, always been.

‘Maybe I will,’ she says.