“God, you’re not even kidding, are you?”
“Nope.”
He let out a short, shocked laugh. “That’s crazy, Bobbie. I mean, seriously off-the-chart crazy. Practicality aside, we haven’t seen each other in ten years. We hardly know each other, in a lot of ways. What makes you think we could pull off something like that?”
“Nothing to lose by giving it a shot, is there?” My mouth spread into a grin. “Come on, mate. For once in your life, take a chance on something wilder than a tequila slammer.”
His brow had tightened into a thoughtful frown. “Would you really take a risk like that? On me?”
“Course. You’re a talented guy, Ross, I know you could do it. And it could be something really good for this town.” I reached out to take his hands, seeking his eyes in the dim light. “Hey. I’ll trust you if you’ll trust me. Let’s have an adventure.”
He smiled. “Well, I do trust you. Still, I don’t know… there’s the space, for one thing. And the money. Then the shape, the acoustics could be way off…”
“We can work round it.”
“But it’s your lighthouse. Your birthday lighthouse.”
“Yep. And I’m offering you, Ross Mason, your very own half-share. I’m going round your Uncle Charlie’s next week to get the deeds signed over. If you’re up for it we can ask him to put the paperwork in both our names.”
“God… is it crazy you’re actually starting to make sense?”
“Yeah, it’s crazy. Still a great idea though. Come on.” I held out my palm to him.
He looked down at it. “What’s that for?”
“You have to give me 50p. For your half. Then we can say it’s a deal.”
“Oh.” Ross fished in his pocket for some change, looking bewildered and excited all at once. He rummaged out a 50p piece and handed it to me, then burst out laughing. “Are we really doing this? I mean, you hear these stories about people getting hammered and waking up with their best mate’s name tattooed on their arse or handcuffed to a lamppost, but never with half a lighthouse.”
“Well now people can tell that story about you. Shake on it.”
He held out his hand and I gave it a firm press. “Look forward to working with you, partner. Get the key off Charlie and I’ll meet you up there tomorrow at 11, ok?”
“Jesus. You really do mean it.” He lifted a palm to his forehead. “Think I’m starting to feel that tequila. Did we just decide to do something completely insane or is it the DTs starting?”
“Yep. And we shook on it so it’s legally binding according to the law of the playground. Plus –” I held up the shiny coin he’d given me – “got your 50p. No going back.”
“Good. Probably the booze talking but I’m pretty sure this is the best idea ever. Me and you and the lighthouse…” He squinted up at the old lighthouse on the cliff, blanketed from view by the darkness. “It is, right?”
“Has to be. In vino verity and all that.”
“Er, don’t think that’s how that saying goes. Verity was in our year at school, wasn’t she?”
“Oh yeah.” I giggled and stumbled towards him, the heady combo of wine, tequila and sea air suddenly landing me a punch square between the eyes.
“Whoops. Careful, tiny drunk,” Ross said, laughing as he caught me.
I gazed up at him through cloudy eyes, fluttering my lashes in a way I hoped looked flirtatious rather than sleepy. “So slammer’s hit you at last?”
“Yep.”
“And you’re pretty smashed, all told?”
“I’d say so.”
“How about that birthday snog then, if we’re as drunk as each other?”
His mouth curved at one side. “Does sound nice, with the sea and everything. Still, feels like I’d be taking advantage.”
“Ah, go on, Gentleman Jim, nothing we haven’t done before. Call it a business snog. Can’t seal a deal properly with just a rubbish floppy handshake.”
“Oh right. I’ll have you know that when sober, my handshake is as firm and manly as my lovemaking, darling.”
“Wouldn’t know, would I?”
“Not yet,” he said, his voice suddenly gentle as he pressed me closer. “But there’ll be time for that. Let’s just enjoy right now, eh?” He reached up to stroke my hair away from my face, caressing my cheek while he pushed the escaping strands back. His fingertips on my skin felt rough, hardened by guitar strings, yet gentle too. I loved the way the tickle sent little vibrations through the nerves in my face. “Oh… go on then, lass, if it’s just a business snog. It is your birthday.”
“Ha, I win. Knew I’d crack you in the end.” I let out a dizzy giggle. “Crack you like a big handsome walnut.”
“Yep. Caught in the nutcracker of your charms.”
“Ok, let’s stop with the walnut thing now.”
“Yeah, think we’ve exhausted the nut-based flirting.” He stroked a gentle palm down my hair. “Hey,” he said softly. “I really like you, Bobbie.”
“I like you too, Ross.”
He brought his lips to mine and we held each other close as we kissed, listening to the leisurely waves plashing against the pebbles behind us.
Next morning, I woke with the thundering of the mighty ocean in my ears, an army of goose-stepping jackboots kicking the backs of my eyeballs and a fuzzy sort of numbness around the mouth. A hangover, basically. And a bloody nasty one at that.
I winced as unwelcome memories of the night before assaulted me. God, I didn’t really call Ross a big handsome walnut, did I? And tequila slammers, ouch – what had I been thinking? I was getting too old for this.
Oh shit… there was another thing, wasn’t there? The lighthouse… we were going to…
I glanced over at the dressing table. Yep, it’d really happened. There was Ross’s 50p, glinting wickedly as it reflected the chink of spring sunlight intruding through the blinds.
My eyes shot wide open and I grabbed my phone to check the time. 10am! I’d agreed to meet Ross at the lighthouse at 11. I jumped out of bed, grimacing with pain as my head adjusted to the change in gravity, and started rummaging around the cupboard for some jeans.
Would he even turn up? If our lighthouse plan had seemed unlikely under the influence of countless wines and a tequila slammer each, it looked nothing less than full-on surreal in the cold and sober light of day.
I stopped rummaging for a moment. Full-on surreal… yeah, that about summed it up. In the space of one day I’d managed to buy a lighthouse, drunkenly get off with a man I hadn’t seen since I was 18 and invite him to go into business with me. And the weirdest thing was, the idea didn’t seem any less appealing now I’d sobered up. It seemed exciting. Exhilarating.
For so long now, life had been the same. Not that it wasn’t rich enough, in its way. There was my job at Cragport Community College: that could be pretty rewarding. Some of the adults who enrolled for GCSE and A-Level English hardly