“Don’t make me kick you under this table, because I bloody will.”
I didn’t doubt it for a second as I raised my hands in surrender. “When I see him next, I’ll tell him, I promise.”
Not that I had any idea when that would be. I’d thought about calling Kim a thousand times, but I hadn’t. And he hadn’t called me. Perhaps it was a sign to let sleeping dogs lie—
Red kicked me sharply in the shin with her purple Doc Martens. “Don’t be a dick. Kim’s my best friend and I won’t give him up for anyone, but he’s never looked at me the way I’ve seen him looking at you. Don’t waste that, because you have no idea how lucky you are.”
The screech of metal on tile was abrupt as Red pushed back her chair and stomped out of the coffee shop. The couple on the next table turned to stare. I glowered back at them, though it wasn’t long before I lost my nerve and found my empty cup suddenly fascinating.
I scraped at a few stubborn grains of sugar with a teaspoon, willing the burn in my cheeks to fade. Blushing wasn’t my bag, but it had been a long time since a woman had ripped me a new one over a cup of coffee. And what to do about it? My encounter with Red hadn’t changed the fact that I was still too busy sulking about Rich to give Kim the attention he deserved, nor did it mean his relationship with Red was really done. Nah. Kim was right: being mates was the best thing for everyone.
After downing another brutal shot of coffee, I tramped back home and got on with my work, and by the evening, the pharmaceutical project was done. I uploaded all the files to the company web transfer and shut up shop for the night. I fancied a pint, but logic told me that the pub was the last place I’d find Kim, so I got in my car and drove out to the commune.
And as luck would have it, Kim was at the end of the path, loading up the bumper-sized recycling bin. I pulled up and wound down the passenger window. “Searching for scraps?”
“Chucking them out, more like.” Kim let the bin lid drop and hopped down onto the grass verge. “What brings you out here?”
“Looking for you. Didn’t think I’d find you in the Sea Bell.”
“You’d be surprised, actually. I spend as much time in there as I do my ma’s house.”
“It’s not triggering for you?”
Kim shrugged. “Nah, being home alone triggers me.”
“Home alone now?”
“Yup.”
I leaned over and opened the door. “Get in.”
Life was never simple. Kim apparently had a flock of chickens to round up before he could go anywhere, a task that was, after many summers at Belly Acre, familiar. I helped guide a couple of dozen birds into hen houses that wouldn’t have been out of place in Camden Town. “Damn. You made these?”
“Apparently. I was off the wagon at the time.”
Looking more closely at the paintwork on the nearest wooden structure, it showed. The chaotic colour held none of the calm beauty of Kim’s usual pieces. “Still pretty good, though. Every cloud, eh?”
Kim rolled his eyes and bolted the doors on both hen houses. “If you say so. I only kept them because they were gonna get covered in shit anyway.”
And. . . but he didn’t elaborate, leaving me to assume that the reminder of rock-bottom was a perversely positive thing to have around.
I nudged him. “Ready?”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah . . . sure. Where are we going?”
I had no idea, but it didn’t seem to matter as we got in my car and hit the road, chasing the fading sun as it sank into the horizon. If I’d been alone, I’d have followed it to the beach and shot a lonely long exposure, but I hadn’t sought Kim out to ditch him for my camera, so I drove instead to the highest point in Porthkennack and parked up at the cliff edge.
Kim took his seat belt off and tipped his seat back. “How did you know?”
“Know what?”
“That this is my favourite place to be when I feel like this?”
“I don’t know how you feel.”
“No?” Kim closed his eyes. “Coulda fooled me.”
I let him be for a while, entertained enough by the sunset that was fast becoming a stormy night sky. My hand found its way to Kim’s leg and lay there, passive and available. I had no idea how much time had passed when he finally took it and laced our fingers together. He didn’t speak, and I didn’t care. Silence was my thing. I enjoyed it, I craved it, and a Porthkennack silence was a special thing indeed.