Page 52 of Love from Pretty Beach

D arby walked hand in hand with Archie, smile on her face, love (though she’d not admitted that or told anyone) in her heart.

They had just got off the fast train from Pretty Beach and were spending a day in London.

Initially, when they’d first talked about it, they had wanted to see a show, but in the end, nothing had taken their fancy.

Instead, they were on their way to have a look around the British Museum, after which they were going to a restaurant.

Things were not just good for Darbs; they were brilliant.

She was brilliant. Life was blooming brilliant. Where were those doldrums again?

Pinching herself that not only was she with Archie but also again growing and doing new things, she could hardly get the smile off her face.

In all the years she’d lived in Pretty Beach, she’d used the fast train many times for one thing or another, mostly to do with her girls.

Now, here she was going on a lovely day out with, dare she say it, a partner and despite the little blip regarding the video incident, things were going very well. She hoped it would stay that way.

Once arrived at the museum, it got better, and after crossing a wide forecourt, they paused and looked up for a while at the beauty of the British Museum building.

Old, impressive, beautiful, with a presence of its own and hard to beat.

People moved in and out of the doors, students with rucksacks slung over one shoulder, tourists clutching maps, and scholarly types with a certain air of purpose about them.

Everyone surrounded by old British architecture and revelling in it.

'Right then,' Archie squeezed her hand as they approached the imposing entrance. 'Ready for a bit of culture?'

Darby laughed. 'Let me at it. I haven't been to a proper museum since I was dragging the children around exhibitions about dinosaurs and Egyptian mummies. I went to an exhibition about town planners a while ago, but I got the time wrong. So me, ha! This feels rather grown-up and very lovely. I’m happy we’re here. '

'When was the last time you did something just for you that wasn’t just a squeezed-in thing?

Not for work, not for the children, just because you wanted to?

I asked myself the same thing when we were speaking about this the other day.

The months seem to fly by and then you realise you’ve done nothing but work again. '

The question caught Darby off guard. She paused on the steps, thinking. 'I honestly can't remember. That's quite sad, isn't it? You’re right, time flies.'

'Easily done, I believe.'

As they passed through security checks and collected tickets for the Reading Room, Darby marvelled.

Looking up at a beautiful glass ceiling which soared overhead, she sighed at the domed roof and didn’t know where to look first. Tilting her head back to take in the full scope of the architecture, she gushed.

'It's absolutely stunning. I’m so glad we came. '

Archie followed her gaze. 'The engineering that went into this roof is incredible.'

'All I can think is that someone designed this to make people feel small and awed and it's working perfectly.'

They wandered slowly around, Darby's eyes darting from one amazing detail to another.

The space buzzed with a lovely quiet but full energy.

Darby felt a long way from Pretty Beach.

School groups clustered around teachers, couples strolled leisurely here and there, and serious-looking academics strode purposefully around.

Archie consulted the map. 'Where shall we start? There’s a lot to see. We should have booked a hotel and made a weekend of it. Ancient Egypt? Greece and Rome? Or something completely different?'

Darby didn’t have the foggiest. 'I don't know. There are so many parts of this place, by the looks of it. I feel as if we should have some sort of plan, or we'll miss the important bits. Then again, it doesn’t really matter…'

'Let's just wander and see what catches our eye.'

‘Good idea.’

A bout three hours later, Darby's legs were feeling it. Deciding that a tea break was needed, they were in the coffee shop together with tiramisu and a pot of tea.

‘Well, this is nice.’ Darby cut a slice of cake and popped a piece in her mouth. ‘Mmm, a good one.’

‘It meets your requirements?’ Archie joked. ‘You know tiramisu.’

‘Not bad. I’ve had worse and much better.’

‘You’re funny.’

‘I have opinions about many things. Try me on olive oil.’ Darby gestured around. ‘Ooh, it’s so good to get away, isn’t it?’

‘Yeah, even when you live somewhere like we do. It’s nice to do something different.’

‘It sort of resets you in a way.’

‘Helps with the struggle of it all.’ Darby nodded as she forked another piece of tiramisu into her mouth.

‘The struggle?’ Archie frowned.

'Yeah, you know. Sometimes, no most of the time, I feel like I'm constantly making it up as I go along. I keep wondering about things. I don’t know.'

'About what?'

Darby straightened. 'Nothing. Ignore me. I'm being maudlin. Sorry.'

Archie didn't let it drop. 'What do you mean?'

Darby gestured between them. 'I don’t know. This is so nice and all, but what happens when this lovely phase ends?'

'That's not going to happen.'

'You say that now, but I've heard it before.' Darby flicked her hands. ‘Cut. Let’s not continue this. Sorry…’

Archie’s expression was serious. 'It’s not ending from my side of the fence.'

Darby tried to make a joke. ‘Good to know. I didn’t mean ending as in ending-ending.

I don’t know what I meant. Sorry. It’s just that I have a talent for picking people who leave.

' Despite trying to sound funny, Darby’s voice, as far as she was concerned, was loaded with old disappointments, a shattered heart and guarded hopes. She needed to backpedal and quickly.

Thankfully, Archie picked up the banter. ‘Well, you will insist on partaking in very odd pastimes. I've already seen you trapped in a fur coat on the floor of a charity shop, covered in flour with a smoke detector wailing and a howling dog going nuts. Oh, yes and demolishing half of your kitchen.’

Darby giggled. ‘Ha, you have! It’s a miracle that Lola and I are still alive. My three offspring, too.’

Archie nodded. ‘I think I can handle whatever disasters you throw at me.'

Darby bantered. ‘Though not social media ones. You want to be kept well away from those. Am I right?’

‘Let’s not go there.’

'When you think about it, it does sound like I've already shown you my worst side. I think the first time you saw me was when you first pulled up to scope the job at the farmhouse. I was in my dressing gown. Not my best look.'

'Not your worst side. Your real side. The side that doesn't have everything perfectly sorted, that makes mistakes and gets flustered and sometimes needs help getting out of vintage clothing. That's the side I fell for.'

‘Aww, thanks. I spent so many years trying to be, actually, I don’t know what. Anyway…'

'I love that you get excited about old buildings and charity shop finds. Not sure about making videos about your daily life, but each to their own, as they say.’

Darby wasn’t going to divulge that Love from Pretty Beach had saved her. He didn’t need to know about the doldrums and where they might have led her. ‘I’ll keep you out of my vlogs from now on.’

'Best.'

Darby looked around and felt eminently pleased to be out for the day.

Small minds and all that. 'Do you know? Since I’ve taken the bull by the horns, sometimes I feel like I'm finally becoming the person I was always supposed to be, but it's taken me forty-one years to figure out who that was. Having the girls so young and all that meant I had to focus on other things. I’ve got myself back. It’s nice. ’

Archie took a forkful of tiramisu. 'I hear you.'

'Do you think it's too late? To become the person you're meant to be, I mean. At our age.'

'You’re forty-one! Hardly! Everything you've been through has brought you to this point, to this version of yourself that knows what she wants and isn't afraid to go after it.'

'Is that what I'm doing? Going after what I want?'

'Aren't you? From what you’ve told me, you’ve completely changed your life, initiated a successful online presence, started to renovate your house on your own, and somehow we’ve connected.

You’re still parenting and paying for young adults and you work part-time.

Plus, you have a dog and you read a lot.

That all sounds fairly impressive to me. ' Archie raised his eyebrows.

'Wow, yeah, I suppose. I’m just thinking about how different everything is now. Six months ago, I would never have imagined I'd be here, doing this, with you.'

'What would you have been doing six months ago on a day like this?'

Darby rolled her eyes. 'Probably cleaning the house or feeling guilty about not cleaning the house.’ There was no way that Darby was going to add that she would have been watching other people's lives on YouTube and wondering how she was going to pull herself up from the lowest of lows.

Best she kept that morsel to herself for, like, ever.

'There you are then.'

‘I can’t stop thinking that it’s so nice to be here.’

‘Agree.’

For a minute, they didn’t say much. Darby caught sight of their reflection in a glass case and smiled at the couple looking back at her.

Unreal in a way. For so long, she'd thought her story was essentially over. That the interesting chapters had been written for her already. She’d got herself caught up in horrible, ever-decreasing circles of pessimism and scepticism.

As she sat with the tea, the building and the tiramisu, Darby realised just how downright wrong she had been.

Her story wasn't ending; in a way, it felt the complete and utter opposite, as if it was just beginning. A new chapter was perhaps emerging from the sloth of the previous few years. It wasn’t all roses and unicorns, flower sprinkles and rainbows, but it was better than sitting on an old sofa watching other people doing their thing.

Much better than that; it was all so very much hers.