Walk With Me

They were growing apart and never talked. All she wanted was someone to walk life’s path with her...

He looked up, panting. They hadn’t walked far, just to the beach from Shingles, the flint cottage Rex insisted they bought. He’d been right that time; it had proved a good buy.

“It’s a bit tired,” he’d said, during their first viewing.

“Tired? It’s almost comatose!” Nay had laughed, totting up in her head the cost of renovation. Despite her objections that they were taking on too much, Rex put in an offer.

“It’s too low. The vendors will be insulted,” she’d argued.

“It’s fine. Trust me,” he’d said, pulling her close.

Resting against his chest, she wasn’t sure she wanted their offer to be accepted. There was a new build she liked but after a tense couple of days, he took the call that made Shingles theirs. grinned, rubbing his close-cropped beard.

“But I thought it would make a good…”

He’d looked up from his tablet. “What?” “A … nursery.”

“But we’re not having children yet – we decided,” he’d dismissed. “We’ve too much on with the business – and with Shingles.”

No, she thought, padding onto the wet sand, we haven’t decided; it was Rex who said the time wasn’t right and Rex who was busy with Silver Surf. And Rex who preferred, for now, that it was just the three of them.

Three… Not for much longer. She bit her bottom lip. Dave was old now. The vet said…

Tears stung as she gazed at their treasured pet plodding along the shoreline. It was incredibly hard but she’d wanted to take him for one final walk. Over the last decade, they’d spent many happy hours at Glebe Bay. It felt right to take him here for a last stroll, although Rex disagreed.

“It’s morbid to take him for a walk when you know it’s his last, Nay. Don’t get me wrong. I love old Dave but he can’t go on forever. The vet…”

“I know,” she’d said, sharply, leaning against the worktop in the stylish new kitchen. “And I’m ready. But I want one more walk in Glebe Bay. To say thank you and goodbye. Won’t you come? Walk with me?”

He’d curled his lip as if she’d offered him sweetcorn, his least favourite food.

“No – go if you must. I’ll say goodbye in my own way.”

She’d agreed – as always, she thought now, looking across the bay to Kennington. The town was where they shopped weekly, where they celebrated anniversaries and birthdays in Felice’s, the Italian restaurant where Rex first said he loved her.

“He was an old softy then, Dave, wasn’t he?” she’d said as the dog plodded silently, avoiding seaweed and rock pools edged with pearly shells.

She studied the bay. A fishing boat see-sawed through the waves. She watched, wondering if she could pinpoint when Rex had changed from sexily decisive to downright bossy.

He’d always known his own mind; it was a trait she’d fallen for along with his blue, blue eyes and deep laugh. But lately everything had to be his way or no way.

“We don’t need children, Nay,” he’d said, recently.

“Need?” she’d frowned, pausing as she framed a photograph. It was a seascape – dramatic waves under a moody sky. “That’s a weird way to describe having a baby.”

“You know what I mean,” he’d said, reading the shipping report on his smartphone. “We have each other, Silver Surf, Shingles… One day, maybe, but right now… well, kids would only spoil things.”

She’d wanted to argue, say all she’d burned to say, but she’d lost the knack, she supposed, of putting her point across so he would understand.

It was only Dave who listened. On their long walks, he’d hold his head to one side with his tongue lolling.

“Children make a family, don’t they, Dave?” she’d say.

Poor boy, am I walking too fast?” She scratched Dave under the chin as tears misted her eyes.

She could almost feel his soft whiskers. How would she cope without confiding in him? She slipped on his lead. It felt lighter than it should but then Dave didn’t pull any more like an impatient pup.

“I know.” He gazed out to sea, concentrating on the horizon. “But it took a while to find the right home. Then Shingles needed so much work. And the business – Silver Surf’s going great, but kids need security.”

“I agree, but we’re doing well. If everyone waited until they knew they’d never lose their job or their marriage wouldn’t fail, no one would ever have children.”

He turned to her. “Look, we haven’t time to discuss this now. My class…”

“I know. The time’s not right but I wish we could talk about it. I don’t even know your reasons.”

He fell silent. Eventually, he said, “Neither do I… it’s just a feeling.” “That’s OK.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry, Nay. We’ve never really discussed it, have we? I’ve just said not yet and I assumed you agreed.”

“I love you more than anything, Rex. And if we talk it through and you really don’t want a family, I’ll understand. It’s the not talking about it that I hate. It makes me feel less of a partner in this marriage and more like I’m… I’m Dave on a lead.”

He laughed then, lightening the moment. “I suppose I am like that. Blame it on me being an only child.

That would be one stipulation – we must have more than one.”

“Unbelievable! In five minutes, we’ve moved from not having children to having at least two,” she smiled.

He pulled her to him, kissing the top of her head. “It’s not a yes or a no. It’s a let’s talk.”

“That’s all I ask,” she smiled.

“Come on – walk with me.”

His words were like music as they climbed up the beach, the screaming seagulls circling overhead.

“But there’s something I do insist upon if we have children,” he said. “What’s that?”

“Let me choose the names – I did all right with Dave, didn’t I?”

She laughed, snuggling into him. “Yes, you did.”

Perhaps, they might never be a family, she thought, but this afternoon they’d certainly grown closer as a couple. Dave, she knew, would approve.

BY TESS NILAND KIMBER