Chapter 7 Tristan comes for dinner

Anna had a pleasant day. It was difficult not to. Polreath was the same interesting place and the weather was wonderful again. She walked around and did a bit of shopping. Some people in the village were beginning to greet her, 'Morning. Another nice day,' they said, and she smiled back.

She sat in the front garden of the cottage, reading and watching all the comings and goings in the harbour. She was learning to recognise some of the different boats - which ones were fishing boats, and which ones were owned by visitors. Tristan's boat, full of passengers, went out, and she decided she'd find out where he was going the next day.

It might be nice to do something with other people tomorrow, she thought.

She looked at Stephen's fish in the fridge and remembered how pleased he'd looked when he'd got off Tristan's boat earlier that day. 'I'll have some later,' she thought. 'Don't want to waste them.'

In the late afternoon, she went for a swim. Back home, she showered and sat with a glass of white wine in the front garden until the sun disappeared behind the hill. Then she went inside to get some dinner.

There was a knock on the door, and Tristan appeared.

'Hello, I hope I'm not late.'

'Pardon?' said Anna. 'Late for what?'

'Dinner. Stephen asked me for dinner.' Tristan could see something was wrong. 'Oh, no! I can see you didn't know!'

'I'm sorry. Come in. No, I didn't know. The thing is,' explained Anna, 'Stephen's had to go back to London. He had a phone call when you were out fishing this morning, and he's gone.'

'Oh, I'm sorry. Is everything all right . . . ? I mean, I hope nothing bad has happened.' Tristan meant what he said, but if he was honest with himself, he was also pleased that Anna was now here alone, without Stephen.

'It's a crisis at work,' Anna said. 'He didn't want to leave but . . . He'll be back on Thursday, he says.'

'Oh good. Anyway, I'll go. Don't worry about dinner,' said Tristan.

'No, stay, really,' she said. 'I was just grilling the fish. I can easily do some more. Help yourself to a glass of wine.'

'Well, if you're sure. Thanks.' Tristan poured himself a drink and filled up Anna's glass as well.

'Can I do anything?' he asked.

'You could cut the bread, if you want. And take all the plates and stuff outside. Is it OK with you if we eat outside?'

'Fine.' Tristan carried everything into the front garden and waited for Anna. He felt a bit strange sitting there, remembering other times he'd had dinner at the cottage.

Jill and he used to eat there most evenings during their first summer together. But when she was here earlier this year, though, she seemed to prefer to eat at his house or in the village somewhere. The cottage had become Jill's private world. Anna brought the fish. Strange, he thought, to himself. There's Jill and Stephen in London and Anna and me here. Tristan talked a bit about his day. After the fishing that morning, he'd been quite busy - two trips with a full boat each time, up the coast looking at the land from the sea. He seemed surprised when she asked him if he ever got bored doing the same trips every week. 'Never bored,' he said. 'Annoyed maybe at some of the stupid questions people ask sometimes. But basically I can't think of a better way of earning a living.'

The phone rang and made them both jump. 'That'll beStephen, I hope,' said Anna and went to answer it. Tristan sat and thought how much he liked Anna's company.

She came back out a few minutes later. 'Yes, it was. He said sorry about tonight — about forgetting to tell me you were coming to dinner. And he says London is hot, airless and dirty!'

'Does he enjoy his job, whatever it is?' asked Tristan.

'He works for an advertising agency. To be honest, I don't know if he does enjoy it any more. He used to, but recently something's changed. Maybe he's changed. He was hoping - well, actually, I was hoping - this holiday would give him a chance to have a good think about it all. Perhaps now, the decisions will be taken for him. He may come back on Thursday without a job. But, I'm sorry, you probably don't want to hear all that. You were just being polite.'

'No, I wasn't . . . if you understand me. I'm interested. I like the little I know about Stephen. I enjoyed our fishing trip this morning.' Tristan paused and then said, 'Maybe it's my turn to be honest. You see, you and Stephen make me think about myself and m y . . . I don't know what to call her - woman-friend, girl-friend, whatever.' Anna waited for him to go on. He told her about Jill and him and the difficulties of continuing a long-distance relationship. He spoke quite openly about it all. Anna couldn't help comparing him with Stephen. Stephen always had such difficulty trying to explain something personal. The death of his father had hit him hard but he still hadn't really talked about it with her. Only once, about three months ago, when she'd found him in the kitchen crying, then he'd managed to talk about it a bit. Poor darling Stephen, people who only saw his public face just didn't know him.

They opened another bottle of wine and carried on talking - about him, about her and Stephen, about the village and the people who lived there.

Finally Tristan stood up. 'It's time I went. Thank you for a really nice evening. You're a good listener.'

'So are you.'

'Shall I see you tomorrow?' he asked.

'Yes, I was thinking of coming on one of your trips.

Where are you going in the morning?' asked Anna.

'Out past Skellig and round the rocks.' He took a step nearer her. 'It's a good trip. The boat leaves at ten.'

'Fine. I'll be there.' Maybe it was the wine, but he seemed to be standing closer. He put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her quite firmly on the lips.

'Goodnight. See you in the morning,' he said, and closed the gate behind him.

***

Date: 2015-04-20; view: 952