Second Chances

Chapter Eight

I'm tempted to turn and walk away before he spots me, but part of me knows that I need to talk to him.  I need to get answers for the questions whizzing around in my head.

"Hi." I whisper, half hoping that he doesn't hear me.

His head whips round and I can tell that he's surprised to see me here.

It's awkward.  Really awkward.

Whether consciously or subconsciously, he's come to the place that holds the most memories for us.  Surely he can't have forgotten the things that have happened here over the years?

I don't quite know what to say so we settle into an uncomfortable silence for a while whilst he smokes his cigarette.
"I thought you'd given up."  I comment eventually, desperate to break the tension.
"Yeah, so did I," he chuckles in response.

We fall silent again until he sighs softly.  I sit down next to him on the small wooden platform.  It's usually used by fishermen but every time we've been here, they've not had access.

"I have given up," he continues after a long pause, "I only do it when I'm stressed out."
I can't help but press him for information.  "What are you stressed out about?"  I ask.
He looks at me with a torn expression on his face.  It's like he's toying with the idea of telling me but isn't sure if he wants to let me in.  After a few false starts he eventually answers me.
"It's nothing, don't worry about it," he says dismissively, taking another drag.
"Paul..." I press, "you know you can always talk to me."

He throws another stone into the lake.  It skims the surface a couple of times before disappearing out of sight.  I decide to be brave and ask the one question that scares me the most.
"Is it something to do with your girlfriend?" I ask quietly.
His head snaps round to face me.  "Girlfriend?  What girlfriend?"
I'm flummoxed and not quite sure how to respond.  He must notice and eventually, after stubbing out his cigarette, he takes pity on me.
"What makes you think I've got a girlfriend?" he asks.  I think carefully about how to respond and fiddle with the hem of my t-shirt.
"Well...the late night phone call, the disappearing act earlier..." I trail off.  He turns back to face the lake but doesn't respond.  I'm suddenly very aware that he hasn't actually denied that there's someone on the scene.
"That wasn't my girlfriend!" he responds, and he seems offended that I am trying to discuss this with him.  "Anyway, why are you so interested?"
His sudden aggressive attitude knocks me for six and once again I'm lost for words.  Instead, I throw a stone into the lake in frustration.  We sit there in silence and it becomes more and more uncomfortable.  I feel like I'm being suffocated.  Maybe staying is a bad idea.  Maybe I should head back to the house.

Just as I'm contemplating my escape, my phone rings and for once I'm glad to see Adam's name appear on my screen.  I might not want to speak to him, but at least it gives me an excuse to leave if I want to.  And part of me really wants to.  But I'm conscious that this might be the only time that we will get to have this conversation, and I can't back out now.

I cancel his call and shove my phone back in my pocket.
"You can answer it if you want," Paul says, the aggressive tone having been replaced by a softer one.  "It might be important."
"It's not." I say and I can't help the frustrated tone in my voice, which he must pick up on.  He reaches into his jacket and pulls out his packet of Marlboro before holding them out to me.
"You want one?" he offers.
"No thanks," I respond, "I gave up a long time ago."
"Fair play," he answers, lighting up another.  "You wanna talk about it?"
"What?  Me giving up smoking?"  I laugh, trying to deflect him from the real topic and lighten the mood.
He gives me a knowing look.  God - I wish he didn't know me so well!  "I meant the person on the other end of the rejected call."
"Trust me - you don't wanna go there!" I reply.
He chuckles in response and we fall silent for a moment.  I think he's given up and moved on but his next words bring me back to reality and remind me how stubborn he can be.
"Go on - try me."  His tone is jovial and it's almost like he's trying to apologise for his reaction earlier.
"Ok..." I start, conscious about the way to phrase this, given that I'm essentially talking to my ex-boyfriend.  "Well, it was my ex.  Adam".
"Ah.  Ok." is his only response.  He takes another drag of his cigarette and blows the smoke in the opposite direction to me.  He's silent for a long time and I'm contemplating changing the subject but he speaks again before I get a chance.  "Did you leave him or the other way around?"
I pause for a moment and look at his side profile.  His face is tight and he's staring out at the lake.  "I left him.  Last week."
He nods.  In my mind, I know he's probably remembering the day I left him.  "He probably wants another chance with you.  Hoping that you'll change your mind."
He speaks slowly and I can't help but wonder if there's a double meaning in his words.  Is he simply talking about Adam or possibly including himself in that?  A growing part of me really hopes it's the latter.
"Well I'm not going to.  He's practically stalking me at the moment.  I hate to think how many phone calls and texts I've had from him since it happened."
He lets out a low chuckle in response, "Hannah Spearritt: breaking men's hearts since 1981!"  I know that he means it as a joke but I can't help the stabbing feeling in my heart at the significance of his words.  I know I broke his heart.  It's something I'll always regret.  I try and laugh along but I can't relax.  I gently smack his arm and he feigns pain.  Idiot.
"So come on then...spill," I prod.  "What about this girlfriend?"  I try to keep my tone light and I hope he doesn't see through it.
"I've told you Hannah," he pauses and turns to face me.  I see the same intense look that's been on his face so many times over the past week.  "I don't have a girlfriend."
"Single and ready to mingle eh?!"  I joke.  "Be warned ladies...Paul Cattermole is available!"
He laughs and some of the tension seems to disappear from his face.
"Yeah, something like that." he mumbles under his breath.

I don't know whether it's the sudden drop in temperature or the nature of our conversation, but suddenly I let out a shiver.  In my haste to escape earlier, I didn't bring a jacket with me and I'm starting to feel the cold sat in just my t-shirt.
"Here, take this," Paul offers, taking his jacket off and wrapping it around my shoulders.
"Thanks," I reply.  With his jacket draped around me, his scent is surrounding me and I can't help the effect that it's having.  Being this close to him is playing havoc with my senses, not to mention my heart.

We settle into silence again but this time it's different.  It's the type of silence you get between two friends.

Two lovers.

Shit, shit, shit!

I've seriously got to stop thinking about him like that.  It's the past.  Finished.  Over.  Finito.

As I glace over at him, facing out towards the middle of the lake, I can't help but notice that goosebumps are starting to appear on his arms.  He may have been a gentleman by offering me his jacket, but I can't sit here and let him suffer in silence.  After all, we are meant to be friends.

Summoning all of my inner courage and humour, I break the silence.
"Come here you big oaf!  You're freezing!"  I say as I pull his jacket from around my arms.  That was the easy bit...the next part would be the hardest to follow through on.  "Let's share.  We can both fit in here!"
Paul looks at me before smiling softly.  "You saying I'm fat missy?!"  he jokes as he moves closer towards me.
"Me?!  Never! You've trimmed down actually.  You look good!"  I joke back.

Shit!

Did I really just say that out loud?

He blushes and I realise that, yes, my mouth did indeed just blurt out what I was thinking.  I mentally berate myself for having the second glass of wine earlier.  I should know by now that my brain-to-mouth filter is greatly reduced once I've had a couple of drinks.  As I contemplate how I can escape from this embarrassment, Paul lifts his jacket around his back, knocking it off my shoulder in the process.  He reaches behind me in order to pull it around my shoulders again and I notice that he leaves his arm around me once he's secured it in place.

"Erm, cheers," he replies.  He's clearly embarrassed by my comment but I spot a twinkle in his eye too - almost as if he's happy to hear that I have noticed his physique.  I consider the idea that maybe he was hoping I'd see the difference.

We sit there in silence and I'm reminded of the amount of time we spent down here in our younger years, sitting just like we are now.  We'd spend hours talking about our worries and anxieties, our hopes and dreams.  Our future.  Of course, it was different once Paul left the band.  I was here on my own but I still came here and we'd talk on the phone about the same topics.  It was our little piece of solace away from the craziness that surrounded our lives in the public eye.

My mind is brought back to present day as I feel Paul move beside me.  As he reaches down to stub out his cigarette butt, I notice that he squeezes my arm a bit tighter.

Am I reading too much into things?

Probably.

I sigh and he turns to face me.

"You ok?"  he asks softly.  Gone is the frustrated, almost cautious edge to his voice from earlier.  It's been replaced by a caring one, and I can't help but think that he's genuinely concerned.  I look up at him and offer a small smile.
"Yeah.  I'm good."  I take a deep breath and pull away slightly so that I can look at him properly.  "I'm glad we had this chat tonight Paul.  I feel like we needed it."  I add honestly.  He looks at me and strokes my arm.  I have to resist the urge to close my eyes at the feel of his fingertips on my bare skin.
"I know what you mean.  Being here is kinda strange you know?  Memories and stuff..." he trails off and my insides turn to jelly.  So he is thinking about the past.  About us.
"I agree.  I've been feeling the same."  I pause.  "It's natural though, isn't it?  It doesn't mean anything."
A hurt expression flashes over his face for a millisecond but it's gone before I can fully register it in my mind.
"Yeah," he replies, his face returning to his stoic pose.  "You're right.  Of course you're right."

We sit there, his arm around me, looking at each other.  I can't break my gaze from his eyes despite knowing that I should.  Getting involved with another man is going to mess me up and I can't let myself get hurt again.  Unfortunately my heart doesn't seem to understand that though and despite how much I've tried to resist, I can feel myself falling for him all over again.

Something dawns on me in those few moments.  He knows that I want him to kiss me, and I'm pretty sure that he wants to kiss me too.  As I begin to close my eyes and prepare to let myself give in to what I know my heart wants - needs - I feel Paul shift.

His arm drops from my shoulder.

"I should go."

When I open my eyes, he's already standing up and he walks away without as much as a backwards glance.  As I sit there, his jacket draped around my shoulders and his scent filling my nostrils, I can't help but feel like I've messed up.  I try my hardest not to let my tears fall but I know I'm in deeper than I want to admit.

Shit.