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Tim could barely see her in the dusk when he looked down the beach. Had to walk halfway to her before he was sure.
Lola was huddled a hundred meters down the beach, close by the water’s edge. Her arms wrapped around her knees, pulled so tight against her chest she could rest her chin on them.
For a moment he considered leaving her there. Hadn’t he been clear? There couldn’t be anyone but her for him. And he knew it was mutual. There’d never been anyone who made him feel so schoolboy happy. They held hands everywhere except when they went running. They communicated with an ease and often a silence that didn’t need words.
He wanted to shout at her. To rage. About betrayal. About breaking so many silent promises. About his family teapot. He raised his hand to look at the handle still c
