Surprised that so much time had gone by, Kit checked his watch too.
“Don’t you believe me?” Holly gave his foot a gentle kick. “Or do you think I can’t tell the time?”
“Bit of both,” he replied cheekily. “You got it right though. Do you need to get home before you turn into a pumpkin or something?”
“It was the coach that turned into a pumpkin, Cinderella just went back to being scruffy.” She yawned. “I wouldn’t mind going though. It seems as though things are winding down.”
“I wish I’d driven,” Kit remarked as they stood. “Why did you insist we walk?”
“Trying to get you drunk,” she said lightly. “To be honest, I thought you were just being gentlemanly offering to drive. I assumed you’d want to drink, but you don’t drink much, do you?”
“Not really.”
“Maybe I should take a leaf out of your book.” She put a hand on his arm as she wobbled slightly. “I drank too fast because I was nervous of seeing Gavin, but that was pointless since he didn’t show up.”
“How long ago did you guys break up?” Kit asked.
“A couple of months. I haven’t really seen him since. I feel as though I need to get the first time over with, then I can relax.”
They sought out Petra to thank her for the party and wish her happy birthday again. As they made their way out they called goodbye to a few more people too.
Walking along the dark road, Holly veered to the side. Kit pulled her hand into the crook of his elbow so he could keep her in a straight line.
“Your mum lives around here, doesn’t she?” Holly asked when they approached the sandy bay at Old Town. The silver moon was large, making the surface of the water sparkle beneath it.
“Over on the headland,” Kit told her, nodding in that direction.
Holly squeezed his arm as she giggled. “Remember your sixteenth birthday party on the beach down there?”
He smiled at the memory. “That was fun.”
“It was until the police turned up.”
Kit laughed loudly. “It wasn’t the police.”
She cast him a puzzled look. “We had a barbecue on the beach and everyone got drunk. People kept turning the music up until someone called the police. Everyone made a run for it.”
“It was my dad.” Kit grinned at her. “He got sick of the noise but didn’t want to embarrass me by coming down to break up the party. So him and my brothers came out and shone torches on the beach and shouted ‘police’. After everyone had done a runner, I stayed on the beach drinking beers with my dad and Trystan and Lowen and Noah. Dad thought it was hilarious that a bunch of drunk sixteen-year-olds were so easy to get rid of.”
“Oh my goodness. That party went down as legendary because the police broke it up.”
“Definitely better than my dad coming down to get rid of everyone.”
“Your dad was really cool, wasn’t he?” She swayed and her shoulder bumped against his.
“Yeah,” he said through the tightening in his chest. “He was.”
“How many brothers do you have?”
“Four.”
“I know Noah from the pub. Lowen’s the guy who makes the pottery, right? I’ve had people in the tourist office asking about his studio, but I didn’t twig that he was your brother until recently.”
“He lives on Bryher. We don’t see that much of him. He’s eighteen years older than me, so we didn’t exactly share a childhood. He’d already moved out when I was born.”
“That must be weird. Is he more like a father figure?”
“No. We’re not close. Trystan can be kind of paternal sometimes.”