Held To Ransome

New horizons

"So what's a beautiful woman like you REALLY doing in a quaint little place like this?" he asked as they finished the last of the tea and cake.  They'd talked about the weather, the book, the miniseries and pretty much everything except why someone clearly as "city" as her was living "in the sticks" as she herself admitted.

Callie looked at him. His candid compliment had taken her aback a little.  It was just a compliment, nothing more, but one she'd rarely, if ever had and even then only to wangle something.  Tom was different though.  He was genuine, funny, warm and charming.  He was handsome, intelligent and seemed to be interested in her.  Did she want to spoil that by telling him she was a broken and burnt out shell of a human being?  

Yes. She had to.

"Why don't we go for a walk?" she said, gathering her jacket from the chair.

"You're doing it again" he smiled and stood, helping her on with it. Hid fingers brushing her neck, making her shake. "Answering a question with a question."  There was no accusation, just observation.

"Ahh." she nodded, keeping it together.  Just. "Sorry.  Defence mechanism as you say.  Come on, let's walk"

She paid the teas - despite his objections - and they left, walking into the sunshine.  The village had been chosen for the series with care.  If you ignored the satellite dishes and the odd car dotted about, you'd think you were in turn of the century England.  It was quiet too.  Hardly anything other than the wheeling and screeching of the birds above. 

"So,  you want to know why I'm hiding." she walked along, hands in pockets, looking mainly at the ground, but occasionally up at him. "Ok.  Fair's fair I suppose.  You told me all about you." she paused and stopped. He turned and walked back, waiting.

"If it's too raw, too painful, please don't feel obliged. It was rude of me to press you." he reached out and almost touched her arm but hesitated and let it drop by his side. "I don't want to spoil things." he smiled at her, head on one side. "Not at all."

She nodded "I know, it's not you that's going to spoil anything Tom."  she walked on, with him falling into step as she passed.  "Come on, let's go to one of my favourite views." 

They walked on in silence for a little while.  Leaving the village behind, they walked out towards a jetty and a small tidal pool.  There was a weather beaten bench, used by the locals to observe the comings and goings on the jetty.  A little rowing boat was moored up, the wood almost silver from the bleaching of the sun.  A few nets huddled in the keel and an old discarded  tub that had become home to all the flotsam the owner had come across on their travels.

The sun was still shining and where the bench was located, protected by a huddle of trees, it made for a warm and welcoming sun-trap.  They sat down, companionably close but not intimate.  This wasn't the stuff of romantic novels, this was just two people becoming friends and... what else?  She didn't want to think about it. Her revelation could be the undoing of it all.

Tom sat back, crossing his legs, loosening off the zip from his jacket a little in the shelter. He knew that the summer could be hit or miss.  He hoped that filming would have at least one or two warm days.  He turned his attention to the cat on hot bricks that sat next to him, fiddling with the cord on her jacket.  He reached out and covered her hand with his.  It was cool and shaking.

His hand was warm and comforting.  She looked up and smiled.  Never in a million years would she have anticipated this.  Sitting here, with him, holding her hand.  She took a breath.

"I - I quit my job after I had a complete breakdown in the office and threw my stapler at my Boss."  she stared out to the water.  Waiting.

It hung in the air like the call of a seabird.

"Did you hit him?" was the gentle response she got.

"No, it broke a window instead." despite herself, her mouth twisted into a grin at the memory of the plate glass exploding in slow motion, the little pieces falling like green confetti onto the carpet.  Oddly satisfying, even now.

"Good. Now, what did you want to tell me that you think would spoil our day?" he smiled at her and squeezed her hand.  He leaned over and gently kissed her cheek as she continued to look at the glittering estuary.  "It's ok, please don't be afraid.  You have my word, I still want to be your friend." She almost died on the spot.

Head snapping round, she gasped a little.  Seeing the smile on his face, the mischief in his eyes, she said, "You - you don't think I'm a nutcase?  That I'm a walking disaster? That you want to run away and never come back?"

He knitted his brows, searching for the right words,

"Nutcase? No, no more than me love.  Disaster?  Well, if you're a disaster then God KNOWS what I am and run away?  Certainly not.  I couldn't sit her and hold your hand if I ran away now could I.  And I very much like holding your hand Callie.  Very much." he ended softly, just looking at her, his ocean eyes filled with compassion.

"I like you holding it too," she said softly, hardly daring to breathe lest it break some wonderful spell. "Very much."

For a moment, they just sat and looked at each other, not saying anything. "So, what now?" she asked carefully, without agenda.

"Well, as your newest friend" he put her hand in his pocket, still inside his hand, "I have to warm your poor cold hand!" he shuffled closer "so budge up, this bench isn't exactly the biggest!"

"Are you implying I have an arse the size of Essex Mr Hiddleston?" she teased, pretending to be horrified.

"Err no?" he squinted "just maybe too big for this bench when I'm here too?" he jumped up and she belted after him.

"Look matey!  If you think I'm letting you away with that just because you're a handsome devil think again!" she grabbed him. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her, hands clasped at her back, looking down.

"You think I'm handsome?" There was a genuine question in his voice.  A genuine surprise.  

Inwardly she winced, dear God what had possessed her to say it out loud?  Oh well, no worse than anything else she'd said.  She nodded.  "Yes, in an Essex Parson kind of way." she winked and pulled out of his arms, "Come on, lots to see yet.  You're not going to get the chance once you start filming." 

As they trudged off across the heathland, the wind blew again and she shivered.  Tom saw her and stopped, delving into a deep pocket.  "Hang on a sec." he called and she turned back. "Here."

He wrapped a thin microfleece scarf, he'd had secreted away for emergencies, around her neck.  His fingers lingered as he placed it and she felt a frisson of electricity. He stood, for a few moments just holding the ends, looking down at her, not smiling just looking.  Her heart raced and she searched his face for a clue to his emotions.  Finding none, she reached up and gently took the scarf, tying it in a loose knot.  

It broke the spell and they walked off towards a cluster of houses that were to appear in the series.  As they walked, neither wanted to be the one to say anything for fear of rejection, but both desperately wanted to hold hands.  

Neither had the courage to ask if that's what friends did.