His gorgeous masculine features melted her like ice cream and at the same time she felt ridiculous and conspicuous and as weirdly hilarious as a Punch and Judy show. The Nick effect spiralled through her. She struggled to get a hold of herself, to stamp out the badly-timed attraction.
‘I’m not an alien. Contrary to appearances I wasn’t beamed in from a celebrity-holding planet in outer space. If there’s something I can help with, please just tell me.’
She stepped aside and pointed. ‘I have to find a way to remove this padlock. It’s outstayed its welcome. Any suggestions?’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t see it’s much of a problem where it is.’
‘That isn’t helping.’ The padlock encapsulated things she couldn’t define – emotions, memories, elapsed time. Things she couldn’t begin to explain. Not wanting to appear unreasonable she attempted an explanation all the same. ‘Joe and I put it here, a long time ago, so you see its presence is no longer required. I don’t want to have to see it every day.’ She peered over the side of the bridge. A long way below in the gully the clear water flowed over moss covered stones. ‘The key might still be in there, hidden.’
‘Unlikely. Precisely how long ago did you throw it in?’
‘About twelve years.’
Without looking down, she swung first one leg, and then the other, over the railings at the side of the bridge. Holding on tight she shimmied along until she reached a sturdy overhanging tree branch, grasped onto it and clambered onto the big rocks beyond.
‘What the hell are you doing? Stop.’ Nick’s voice crackled electrically.
‘It’s okay.’ She laughed nervously. ‘It sounds crazy but it’s worth a quick look.’
‘Crazy. You’re a lunatic.’ His words sounded like something trapped in his throat.
She scrambled carefully down the steep bank, jumped off the lowest mossy rock, landed safely and looked up at him triumphantly.
Standing at the railings he glared down into the gully, his face granite-like and ashen. ‘At the risk of sounding pessimistic,’ he shouted, ‘won’t it be all rusted up by now?’
Ignoring him, she kicked off her flip-flops and paddled into the stream. Crystal clear, cool water flowed gently over her feet. All around her raindrops made circles in the stream. In defiance of Nick, and good sense, she lifted pebbles and looked under rocks.
She picked up a slippery stone, dropped it with a splash and dug around hopefully in the empty hole it had left behind.
‘Any luck?’
‘Nope. But I’m not giving up.’
She doggedly shifted another large stone and the water beneath it clouded with disturbed silt, obscuring her bright pink toenails. Hot Day, it said on the nail polish bottle. Not counting Nick, that particular nail polish related prediction had been wrong too. The day that had begun so promisingly sunny had turned cloudy and grey and wet.
‘Face it. It’s not in there.’ Nick’s deep voice rumbled down into the gully like thunder. ‘You’re wasting your time. Twelve years is much too long, it’ll have been washed away in a storm years ago.’
She was ankle-deep in water looking for something that she wasn’t going to find. ‘That’s positive. Thanks for nothing,’ she yelled, a sour taste at the back of her throat. ‘I thought you said you wanted to help.’
A darkening sky and a deafening thunderclap got her to face the futility of what she was doing. Ophelia whined pitifully, so Nick picked her up.
‘I do. But I think it’s time to call it quits. You’re shivering like you’ve seen a ghost and there’s going to be another heavy downpour any second.’ He took hold of the padlock between his thumb and forefinger and gave it a tug. ‘We’ll think of another way to shift this thing.’
‘That thing, as you call it, is a symbol of my broken heart,’ she yelled. ‘In case it’s escaped your notice, I’m falling apart. My ex got married. And the pictures are everywhere on social media. All one hundred and fifty-three of them.’
Admitting defeat and that she now qualified for fully certified village idiot status, she began to clamber back up over the rocks, searching out footholds with her bare feet, carrying her flip-flops in her teeth, and avoiding looking down.
When she reached the top, grim-faced Nick grabbed ahold of her and clung on like a rather lovely limpet while she climbed back over the railings to safety. Since he was still steadying her with his arms even though she was out of danger, she hinted, ‘You can let go now.’
‘On one condition. Promise me you’ll not do that or anything like it again. He’s not worth breaking your neck over. Hearts heal.’
She glared at the padlock taking in how insignificant and tiny it looked, hardly noticeable to anyone but herself. ‘True.’ She met his eyes and realized he’d gone a funny colour. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m scared of heights. You have the agility of a primate and I wish I had your head for heights. Just watching you made me panic.’
‘But you’re the new Mr Hollywood-Action-Hero. You can’t be afraid of heights.’
He nodded slowly. ‘Yep. So I’ll have to swear you to secrecy – either that or shoot you.’
‘Crikey! That must be awkward.’
He nodded and abruptly fired a non sequitur at her. ‘So, about these photos. Why not ignore them?’
‘I couldn’t help it. I can’t stop looking at them.’
‘Because you enjoy self-torture?’
She managed to conjure up a hint of a responsive smile, but wrapped her arms across her body miserably. ‘Because I keep looking at her and asking myself, why her and not me?’
‘Let me guess. She looks a lot like you?’
She stared at him long and hard. ‘That’s spooky.’ Had he been stalking her friends on the internet? ‘Joe’s wife …’ Saying the word out loud practically made her gag ‘… and I do look alike. How did you know?’
He held his breath and then let it all go at once in exasperation. ‘A hunch. Most of the women my father was photographed with after my parents’ split resembled my mother. I remember asking myself why he’d destroyed a family to be with women who seemed like brand new versions of the one he’d left?’
‘I suppose there was more to it than that.’
‘Right.’
Ophelia had skedaddled ahead of them and was lying down in a muddy puddle.
Layla groaned. ‘This day really isn’t getting any better. And she’s having way too much fun.’
As if on cue Ophelia rolled onto her back completely coating herself in mud. He couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of the mischievous little dog covered from head to paws. ‘She looks like she’s been dipped in chocolate. We’re going to need a pint of dog shampoo.’
‘At least.’ Convulsed by a sudden fit of giggles the warmth of Layla’s laughter broke over him like a wave.
Oddly reluctant to tear himself away he started to walk back in the direction of the little store he’d spotted down by the harbour. The rain had stopped as suddenly as it had started. The clouds parted and the sun warmed the cobbles in the lane. ‘I’ve never been anywhere with such whimsical weather.’
‘That’s the Porthkara microclimate for you. It’s one of those if-you-don’t-like-the-weather-wait-fifteen-minutes days.’ She gazed at him wide-eyed. ‘Where are you going?’