“I know,” she managed, trying to smile for her mum’s sake. “I’m just taking time to get used to this.” Olivia smiled wryly. “You seem to be handling it much better than I am.”
“You’ll get there. It’s more of a shock to you than it was to me.”
Olivia finished her tea, reluctant to leave her mum, but time was getting on. “I suppose I should go,” she said. “I’m meeting Simon in less than an hour.”
Her mother smiled, her eyebrows raised expectantly. “Simon? Who’s Simon?”
*
Back at Tea on the Lea, Olivia headed upstairs to change into warmer clothes. It was a perfect day for enjoying the wintry weather—crisp and cold with blue skies and bright, hard sunshine that made every blade of grass sparkle with frost.
Dr Jekyll prowled around her as she squeezed herself into some thermals, wincing at her reflection before she hurriedly put on the rest of her clothes. She’d just yanked on a pair of sturdy boots when she heard a tapping on the glass downstairs.
Dr Jekyll trotted behind her, wanting to investigate, and then decided to be extra-friendly by jumping into Simon’s arms as Olivia opened the door.
“Oh, hello there!” he exclaimed as he caught the cat instinctively. “So you’re being friendly today.”
“For the moment,” Olivia answered as Simon set him down on the floor. “Be careful of his claws.”
“Wise advice.” Simon straightened, brushing his inky hair away from his eyes as he gave her one of his wry smiles. He had a large bag thrown over his shoulder, which Olivia assumed held their skates. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, I’ll just get my coat.”
“Do you mind walking?” Simon asked as they set off down the high street, the air cold enough to sting Olivia’s cheeks. “It’s not that far, and there isn’t much parking there, or so I’ve heard.”
“No, I don’t mind at all. It’s a beautiful day.”
And it was beautiful, as they took the footpath at the top of the high street, pausing as they crossed the little wooden footbridge that spanned the Lea River, and offered a chocolate-box view of the village.
“You do know where this pond is, don’t you?” Olivia asked, half-joking, as Simon strode down a narrow path that wound between a cluster of oak trees, their branches stark and bare now in the depths of December.
“More or less…” He glanced back at her with a cheeky smile that made her laugh. “Perhaps a little more less.”
They walked along the footpath for another ten minutes, wending their way through a forest and then a tufty sheep pasture before Simon slowed and gestured with one arm. “Voila!”
Olivia stopped to gaze at the small pond, its surface smooth and gleaming ice. A handful of people were skating on it—a couple of kids who flung out their arms and stumbled along, and one woman who was doing sharp figure eights, a look of serene concentration on her face.
“Wow. I never even knew this was here. How did you hear about it?”
“My sister told me. She took my nephews here last week.” He gestured to a fallen log someone had fashioned into a bench, sawing off the top so it was flat enough to sit on. “I borrowed her skates for you… I think you’re about the same size.”
“Six?” Olivia asked hopefully and he squinted as he glanced at the size printed on the inside flap.
“Seven. But you’re wearing thick socks.”
They suited up, Olivia’s fingers feeling thick and clumsy as she laced her skates. “I think you should know,” she warned him as they both stood and started to clump over towards the ice, “that I’ve never actually skated before, and I’m generally not the most dextrous person.”
“I think you should know,” Simon answered, “that neither am I.”
In fact, as Simon gingerly stepped out on the ice, Olivia couldn’t help but think how much he resembled a stork. A charming, handsome stork, but there could be no denying that his gangly frame was not the most graceful as he took a few exploratory glides along the ice, wobbling so much Olivia caught her breath in a would-be gasp, before Simon turned to her with a flourish, spreading his arms out wide.
“See? Easy,” he said, and then promptly fell flat on his back.
“Oh!” Olivia half-skated, half-minced her way over to him, conscious of her own lack of balance, her flailing arms. “Simon, are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“Only my pride, and I have little enough of that as it is.” He blinked up at her, grinning, and she gave a little laugh as she stretched out a hand to help him up. Simon took it, and for the next few seconds they were engaged in an awkward, imbalanced dance as they both struggled to right themselves and Olivia feared they’d end up crashing to the ground.
Simon grabbed hold of her forearm, and then steadied himself by putting his other hand on her waist, so it almost felt as if they were waltzing—admittedly rather badly. But still they were close, close enough that Olivia could see the silvery glint in his eyes, feel the heat of his body, and her heart rate skittered in response. They remained that way for a long, suspended moment, their faces and bodies both close, and then Simon steadied himself and, still holding her hand, started to skate.
Olivia had no choice but to keep up with him, trying to match his gliding strides, terribly conscious not just of his nearness but of how precarious her own balance felt. Around them a couple of kids were half-stumbling across the ice, and the lone woman did an impressive jump, spinning in the air before she landed neatly and skated on.
“I’m feeling a bit outclassed,” Olivia murmured, and Simon
