Page 35 of Suddenly Beck

‘I suppose so,’ Beck replies. ‘Some of those pieces are intensely private. I made them when I was… I was going through some stuff at the time. Some of them I made when I was grieving for my dad too. I’m not sure I can put them out there for people to tear apart.’

‘Beck, you don’t have to,’ I tell him quietly. It’s strange seeing him like this. Up until now, I’ve seen him angry and worried, I’ve seen him happy and flirty, but above all, there is this air of confidence about him. He seemed so laid back and at ease with himself, which to be honest was a little intimidating to me. It seemed like he had it all figured out while I was just a hot mess diving headlong from one disaster into another, but now that I look at him, I can see his frustration and indecision, but beneath it, there’s just a glimpse of hurt. I know he’s still grieving for his dad, but something deep down in my gut tells me there’s something else there. ‘What gallery is it?’ I ask.

‘The Dalton Gallery.’ He looks across at me. ‘It’s in Greenwich.’

‘Ellen Krenshaw’s gallery.’ I nod.

‘You know it?’ he replies in surprise.

‘I do. I’ve visited the Dalton several times,’ I muse. ‘I’m rather fond of watercolours. Ellen usually lets me know when she’s sponsoring showings that would interest me.’

‘Ellen?’ Beck studies me curiously. ‘You know her personally? How?’

‘Same social circles.’ I shrug. ‘I also know her daughter, Meena, we were friends at Uni.’

‘Small world,’ Beck mutters.

‘Beck.’ I turn, angling my body so my hip is pressed against the side of the car and I’m facing him. ‘I do know Ellen well, and trust me, if she’s interested in your work then it must be really good. She’s notoriously picky, but she’s also very understanding. If there are certain pieces that are too personal to you, then you don’t have to show them.’

‘Without them I don’t have enough bronzes to make a collection,’ he breathes out in frustration.

‘So, you defer for a year and make some new pieces,’ I say calmly, and my words seem to soothe his ruffled feathers. He watches me thoughtfully, and I can tell he’s considering my words. ‘Like I said, Ellen’s not unreasonable, and if she wants you, she’ll be prepared to wait until you have a collection you’re happy to show. Ellen doesn’t waste her time; she wouldn’t have made you an offer if she wasn’t very impressed with you. Trust me, give her a call, and tell her you need more time and wouldn’t be interested in a showing until next year at the earliest. You’ll see I’m right about her.’

‘Maybe I will,’ he mutters. ‘Thanks.’

‘No problem.’ I grin. ‘I mean, it’s not diving into the ocean during a biblical tempest to rescue an idiot, but I’m happy to help.’

‘You’re not an idiot,’ he replies.

‘I do recall you calling me an idiot at the time, along with several other unflattering things.’

‘You scared the crap out of me, Nat.’ He winces. ‘I shouldn’t have yelled at you; it was a knee jerk reaction because my heart was still hammering in my chest.’

‘It’s fine.’ I smile. ‘It’s not the first dumb thing I’ve done, and I’m sure it won’t be the last, but you saved my life, so you’re entitled to think I’m an idiot.’

‘I don’t think you’re an idiot.’ He frowns.

I shrug and turn toward the car, reaching for the door handle, but Beck lays his hand on the door to stop me.

‘Is that really how you see yourself?’

‘Some days.’ I glance at him. ‘...but I’m working on it,’ I add.

‘Nat…’

‘We should head back.’ I shake my head.

Beck stares at me, and for a moment, I think he’s going to say something else, but he obviously thinks better of it. Instead, he nods and let’s go of the door, edging around the car and climbing in the driver’s car.

We sit mostly in silence for the drive back, and I’m grateful for it. I’ve really enjoyed spending the day with Beck. I had so much fun, but it’s equally as exhausting trying to fight the insane attraction I feel for him. I know we agreed to be just friends but being around him lights me up like a bloody pinball machine, and I wonder if maybe we should take a step back and have a little breathing room.

I’m so lost in my own thoughts as we arrive back in the bay that I almost don’t register that Beck has completely by passed the B&B and is now pulling up to a really pretty two storey detached house with a wide drive.

‘Beck, you missed the B&B,’ I tell him.

‘I know.’ He parks the car and turns the engine off.

‘Where are we?’ I ask.