‘Really?’ I manage to croak, and his smile changes to something softer, more earnest.
‘Of course,’ he says slowly, like every word matters. ‘You’re part of the family now.’
And at that, my heart feels like it doubles in my chest– like I physically grow to accommodate all this new feeling. I was always a sucker for happy endings, I just could never picture my own. And here it was, all along, in the very last place I would ever have thought to look.
‘So,’ Bram says as we start to walk again. ‘What’s the plan for work?’
A laugh bubbles up my throat. ‘No plan. Just vibes.’
It’s a little crazy now that I think about it. But I’ve done things the right way my entire life, and nothing has ever worked out the way I planned. Not until I threw my rule book into the North Sea.
‘I’m a writer,’ I say, with a shrug. ‘I should be able to freelance for a bit until I find something.’ I look back to the bookshop, to the stack of brightly coloured books in the window. ‘Maybe I’ll write a book of my own. I am a Partridge, after all.’
He looks across at me as we walk, his smile so wide that it catches on the top of those prominent canines. ‘I can’t wait to come in here and buy it one day,’ he says, casually, like he hasn’t just shot a direct line to my heart with the effortless way he said it.
One day.
Like there’ll be aone dayfor us– sometime in the distant future when we look back to this crazy weekend and the strange way we met. Like there’ll be a day, years from now, when we sit on that bench in the graveyard and look back at a life spent together, waiting together to see where the rest of it takes us. Waiting to see if real love really does last forever.
But there’s too much to say, so I say nothing. I just smile, tightening my fingers around his as we reach the bridge and cross the harbour.
He finally stops outside the little shop with the duck-egg-blue door, pausing to grin at me before he reaches for the handle.
‘What’s happening?’ I ask. I can just about see the twinkle in his eye past the glare of sunlight off his glasses.
‘We’re here for rock,’ he says simply, before leaning towards me and lowering his voice. ‘To commemorate me rocking your world.’
I level him with a look. ‘I’m just going to pretend you didn’t say that.’
This time, when he laughs, it’s with abandon, rough and genuine. ‘I’m kidding. It’s for Gilly.’ One shoulder lifts in a shrug. ‘The taste of rock helps her remember this.’ He gestures vaguely out, around the harbour.
I almost burst into tears where I stand. It’s just so beautiful– the way he thinks of her, the way he remembers for her when she can’t, the sacrifices he’s made for her. If I weren’t already sold on him, I think that would have sealed the deal.
‘I’m assuming you’ll need a lift home at some point, so I was thinking we could pop in and see her on the way,’ he says, sweeping his hair away from his face. ‘But we don’t have to. I know it’s a lot.’
My heart clenches. I remember the way it felt, sitting on that little stool next to Gilly while she told me in great detail about the little nuthatch. It felt like family, like all the facets of it– the good and the bad. It felt like hope and like despair all mixed together– like a reminder from the universe that, no matter what the future holds, I’m here now.
And I want to have memories worth remembering.
‘Are you kidding?’ I ask, not even bothering to hide the shake in my voice. ‘I love bird talk.’
I see his reaction on his face first, in the tiny pull of his smile, the way his lips part with the catch of his breath.
‘You,’ he says, not for the first time, ‘are everything.’ And he pulls me into a kiss so soft and sweet that it catches me totally off guard when he breaks off and mutters into my ear. ‘Just wait until I get you home.’
Heat radiates through my whole body, but it’s not just from the gravel of his voice in my ear or the promise of his kiss. It was the word on his lips, a single syllable that made my heart quicken and skip. It repeats itself over and over as he opens the door and pulls me into the shop.
Home.
I could get used to that.
Once again I find myself face to face with that godforsaken stone vampire.
We nipped up to the cottage so I could see Peggy and Wladek and thank them for letting me stay in the annexe. I skipped out so quickly on Monday morning that I didn’t get the chance, and I’ve felt bad about it ever since.
But I needn’t have worried. They greeted me like family, just like Bram said– not at all bothered by my hasty exit, merely delighted to see me back again so soon.
I feel like a completely different Lucy from the one who arrived here on Thursday night, but it feels familiar at the same time, comfortable, like this is the version of myself I was always supposed to be.