Читать книгу The Little Book Café - Georgia Hill - Страница 22

Tash jogged to the end of the beach and stopped, putting her hands on her knees. She was out of puff and they’d only been running for ten minutes. The rest of them were way ahead of her so she straightened and concentrated on getting her breathing controlled. Maybe she wasn’t over the stomach bug quite yet.

She’d checked the answerphone when she’d got home. It was blank. All old messages deleted, it stated. Adrian had arrived home as she was reading the user manual. Assuring her he would sort it, he’d suggested she went for her run. For once, he seemed desperate for her to go out. She’d shrugged and had run upstairs to get changed. She really couldn’t keep up with his moods these days. Maybe Emma had rung the wrong number? Maybe the phone was faulty? The things were so complicated.

Putting it to the back of her mind, she concentrated on the view instead. The light was just going, leaving a rippled orange streak above the dark sea. It was very calm this evening, with barely a suggestion of a wave at the shoreline. The pubs and restaurants in town were packed and there was a steady stream of people wandering along the promenade. They stopped every now and again to admire the scenery or enjoy the planted flowerbeds. Berecombe was dressed in its summer party outfit, with red and orange begonias bursting out. It was still warm and Tash felt sweat cooling on her neck. Tying her hair up in a ponytail and repeating her thigh stretches, she hoped it was still the after-effects of her illness. Otherwise, it meant she had let herself become very unfit.

Emma jogged back to her. ‘What did Mrs Morrison want?’ She stretched her arms over her head. ‘Was it a complaint about me?’

Tash straightened. ‘No, actually. She wants one of us to go over and discuss the house going on the market.’ She grinned. ‘Mrs Morrison especially asked for the enthusiastic young lady who was so positive about her conservatory and was a big Poldark fan.’

Emma giggled. ‘That would be me.’ She pulled a face. ‘And conservatory? It’s a mildewed lean-to. It’ll take some selling, that place.’

‘It’ll sell as long as it’s on at the right price. The market down here is hot at the moment.’

‘All the more reason to have another agent working with us.’ They began jogging along the beach to catch up with the others.

‘I agree, Em. I’ll mention it to Pete at the next meeting. Again. Oh, and here’s a thought. Maybe Biddy and Arthur might like a look at the Morrisons’ place?’

‘Worth a try.’ Emma hiked up the strap of her running vest. ‘We deffo need another member of staff, though. I mean, look at you, Tash,’ she continued. ‘You’re never ill and you’ve been really poorly lately. We’re both doing too much and we can’t keep up. When was the last time you had any time off? And being off sick doesn’t count.’

As they joined the group, Kit looked over at Emma’s indignant voice.

Tash shot Emma a warning look. ‘Hi everyone,’ she said. ‘Didn’t mean to hold anyone up.’

‘You didn’t,’ Kit answered. ‘We’re just taking a breather before tackling the hill.’ He came closer. ‘Are you alright? You disappeared very quickly the other night.’

Tash looked up at him. She couldn’t help but take in the way his jogging bottoms clung to his muscles, how strong his arms looked and, more importantly, the warm concern in his eyes. She wished she could tell him what was happening. But she wasn’t even sure herself. Was she losing her mind? Was she run down or was she simply overworked as Emma had pointed out? ‘I’m fine. Thanks. Just laid low with some bug or other.’ She smiled at him and felt something fluttering inside. It was happiness. He made her happy and she hadn’t felt that for so long. She liked him. Would like to get to know him more. She gave herself a little shake. She’d told Emma off when she’d lusted after him and here she was, doing the same. Except it wasn’t just physical. She sensed a gentleness in Kit. A deep-rooted gentleness borne from his innate confidence. He was content being who he was. Adrian was always twitchily looking to see what other people had got, what they drove, how much they earned. Where he sat in the order. How he could get one in front of them. Kit was simply Kit. Happy to be who he was. And she didn’t think winning money had anything to do with it. She thought it had everything to do with the man himself.

‘Are you okay Tash?’

His hand, firm and warm on her bare arm, brought her back. ‘Yes,’ she managed. ‘Just getting my breath back.’

‘Ready to carry on?’

‘Ready.’

As one, the group turned and began running back along the promenade. As they jogged past the bookshop, Amy peeled off apologetically. They dodged through the crowds that were gathering on Millie’s terrace to enjoy the sunset and Emma, Millie, Jed and some of the others soon gained speed and surged ahead. Tash, still feeling under the weather, maintained a steadier pace and was pleased when Kit slowed to run alongside her. They didn’t speak but she was comforted by his presence. They skirted around the tourists until making their way to the narrow lane which ran steeply parallel to the main street. It was a quieter route out of town, away from the throngs of people and the fumes of the traffic.

Tash had to pull up halfway. Leaning against an oak tree, she pressed a hand to her side and gasped in pain at the stitch which had developed. Kit took her by the shoulders and led her to a gap in the hedge. Next to the kissing gate leading onto the coastal path was a bench. Guiding her to it, he sat her down and let her breathe through it.

Eventually she was well enough to sit up. Taking the water bottle he offered, she murmured, ‘Thanks.’ They sat in silence. Screened from the streetlights, it was dark, with only the occasional car headlights flaring briefly. The air smelled damp and bosky, of deep greenness and secrecy. An owl hooted somewhere. It made Tash jump and she laughed.

‘Noisy at this time of the year. Out hunting I expect,’ Kit said and they lapsed into silence again.

Tash concentrated on the moment and felt her shoulders relax. Her whole body relaxed. It was very peaceful sitting here. She’d forgotten the bench had such a fantastic view over Berecombe. She used to walk Benji along the coastal path but hadn’t done it for months. They often used to sit on this bench before the rest of the walk. Benji was lazy and demanded frequent rests. A laugh rippled through her as she remembered how he’d squat on his fat little bottom, refusing to move.

‘Wonderful view,’ Kit said quietly, echoing her thoughts.

It was. Tash’s eyes followed the trickle of white houses descending the river valley. The white lights strung along the prom like a diamond necklace leading to the harbour and its still, black water. ‘I love it here,’ she whispered, not knowing if she meant Berecombe or the intimate peace of the bench shaded in its arbour of trees. She turned to Kit. He seemed very close. She could hear his breathing. It was uneven and ragged. Was it possible he felt what she did? He inched nearer. She sensed rather than saw his lips move towards hers.

‘Tash?’

‘Oh, Kit.’

A flare of headlights blinded her and she jolted back. What was she thinking? She was in a relationship. ‘I have to go,’ she panicked. ‘I have to get back to Adrian.’

‘Of course,’ Kit muttered.

Was that regret in his voice, or was it her fevered imagination?