He slowly formed his words. ‘Did you . . . did you lose someone, Merrin? And don’t feel you have to tell me. I don’t want to pry.’
She leant into him, liking the support he offered as they ambled along the winding street lined with dainty cottages where lamplight shone from the windows and potted plants and hanging baskets graced the frontages. ‘Have you ever owned something so beautiful that you can’t quite believe it’s yours and then through no fault of your own it gets broken, and you can’t bear to look at it any more, because it’s smashed and yet it used to be perfect, and even to glimpse it makes your heart break?’ She looked up, almost having forgotten she was talking to him and not herself.
‘I haven’t, Merrin. I’ve never owned anything like that.’
‘Well, I did.’ She swallowed. ‘I owned a lovely life in the most beautiful place you can imagine and I fell in love and got dressed up in a big, frothy wedding dress, and my dad covered the old cart with flowers and all the village came out to wave and then . . . and then it was all gone. All of it. And here I am.’
And just like that her tears had gathered and, suddenly weary, she rested her head on his shoulder.
‘Well, for what it’s worth, not that I would wish you a moment of sadness, I’m glad that you went through that because it brought you here, brought you to me.’
The two stopped and leant on the high stone wall of a garden. Merrin looked up at the man who she had trusted with her story. ‘You are very good-looking.’
‘Yes, I am,’ he stated, and again she felt laughter erupt from her mouth without hesitation or self-consciousness. He moved in as if to kiss her and she pulled her head back.
‘I want you to understand, Miguel, that I’ve been badly hurt and it’s left a mark on me, changed me. And you are really kind and funny and good-looking.’
‘Yes, I think we’ve established that.’ He smiled and held both her hands in his.
‘I’m sad that you will only ever know this new-shaped Merrin Mercy Kellow because I used to be different, better.’
Words raced around her head that felt at once presumptive and weighted. I’m wary of any long-term commitment, suspicious of words of affection and I will never be able to love as freely as I did before because part of my heart has been boarded up, cut off, sealed . . .
‘I want to kiss you, Merrin, is that okay?’ Again he leant in and, as he did so, she felt the rise of bitter wine in her throat.
‘Oh God!’ she shouted, before rushing to the kerb, bending over and throwing up into a drain, while Miguel palmed circles on her back.
‘I gotta admit’ – he pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and handed it to her – ‘this isn’t quite how I pictured the evening ending.’
‘Do you still want to kiss me?’ She looked up at him from where she crouched on the pavement, a line of spit dangling from her mouth.
‘I don’t.’ He grimaced and helped her up. ‘I really, really don’t.’
‘I understand. I wouldn’t want to kiss me either. What is it about me?’ She stood up straight. ‘Digby didn’t want me, Ruby treats me badly and now you don’t want to kiss me.’
‘I . . .’ He looked up and down the street. ‘I don’t know who Ruby is but I can’t imagine anyone treating you badly. Digby, also a stranger to me, is a complete fool, and the reason I don’t want to kiss you is because you have a little . . .’ He touched his own mouth and she wiped her face on her sleeve.
‘I need a shower and a nap.’
‘Yup.’
Slipping off her shoes, she handed them to Miguel and wiggled her toes against the cool paving stones, then proceeded to walk along Castle Street. Barefoot.
Merrin woke before her alarm and sat up in bed, looking at her pale skin and bloodshot eyes in the mirror.
‘Oh God!’ She placed her head in her hands, partly to try to alleviate her thumping headache but also in shame at the memory of her evening with Miguel. ‘He’s never going to talk to me again!’ she wailed. ‘And he’ll tell everyone what happened!’ Picking up her phone, she fired off a text to Bella.
This is all your fault. Headache. Hangover. Asked a man to kiss me after I’d been sick in a drain. You told me to get out there and this is what happened!
The reply came quickly.
Keeping it classy, I see. Nice! X
(but super proud of you, girl!)
Merrin jumped into the shower and took her time, letting the hot water pound her skin and restore her. She did a double shampoo, before lathering her face with soap and giving her teeth a good scrub. With a towel on her head, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. The effects of her hangover had lessened a little and the sickly smell of booze and sick had left her skin. In fact, she looked quite rosy and with more of a sparkle in her eye than she had seen for the longest time. Bella was right, this wasn’t a rehearsal, it was her one life, and it felt good to have stepped out of her comfort zone. A strange sensation swirled in her stomach and she recognised it as excitement.
The knock on her door was quiet; in fact, she listened for the second knock to make sure she hadn’t imagined it.
‘Miguel!’ Still in her dressing gown, she popped her head through the gap of the open door, hiding inside. It felt a little odd to be chatting to him like this on top of her behaviour last night. ‘Are you still talking to me?’ she asked with no small dollop of embarrassment.
‘Don’t worry, you didn’t do anything to embarrass yourself.’
‘Apart from be sick and then ask if you wanted to kiss me.’ She closed one eye briefly; it felt easier not to look at him fully.
‘Apart from that. Anyway, two things: first, I brought you this.’ He lifted a small tray into her line of sight with a large glass of fresh orange juice with ice cubes bobbing on the top, a steaming mug of black coffee, a big, fat, flaky croissant and two Paracetamol. ‘Thought this might help you start your day, although I must say you don’t look too bad.’
‘Oh, thank you!’ Making sure her robe was secure, she opened the door. He walked in and placed the tray on the table. ‘That’s so kind.’