No. Angie should leave things as they were. But at least now, if anything were to happen, she would know how to get hold of him. Suddenly she felt slightly less alone.
38
2017
It was bitterly cold and Angie pulled her coat round her and worked on the zip. Her fingers were icy-stiff, and the coat was a snugger fit than it had been the previous winter. She really was going to have to lose some weight. It hardly seemed fair when she ate like a bird anyway and led an active lifestyle, but it was, she supposed, one of the very many calling cards of the menopause. She wasn’t very impressed with any of them so far. She was suddenly more tired than she had ever been and her back ached despite her lifelong yoga practice. If she let herself, she could become ground down by the injustice of it all. But she wasn’t going to. Going through the menopause was a perfectly natural process that happened to every woman lucky enough to reach their middle age. Her downbeat response to it was all about mindset, and hers just needed a little bit of work. She made a mental note to write her feelings on the subject in her journal when she got home.
Today, however, was not a day for getting down in the dumps. Today she was going to see Tiger for the first time in over three years and she was insanely excited. This was the longest that they had ever gone without seeing one another, she calculated as she crossed the bridge and made her way along the city wall to the railway station to meet him. It had been far too long.
There were bright yellow daffodils all over, exploding from every grassy bank and trumpeting the arrival of a change in the season. Not that it felt like anything was changing just yet. There was definitely snow in the air, she could smell it, and the cruel wind whipping up off the river bit through to her marrow.
Once in the station, she settled herself on the circular bench in the forecourt to wait. She enjoyed watching the tourists mixing in with the locals, each easy to spot by the way they behaved as they left the station. The locals set forth confidently, clear on where they were going, the tourists emerging through the ticket barriers and then stopping, agog, as they found their bearings, phones and guidebooks at the ready to take them on a whistle-stop tour of York’s top spots before coming back here to be whisked away by the train again.
Another twinge in her lower back forced her to shift on the uncomfortable wooden seat. Maybe she should go and see an osteopath or get Kate to give her some acupuncture. That might help. And she could have another look at her diet books. As well as helping her lose her newly rounded tummy, they might have something to say about what to eat to help with painful joints. Ginger was good, she knew, and broccoli.
And then there he was, strolling towards her, rucksack on his back. His rich mahogany tan made him stand out a mile from the pale, insipid people surrounding him. He seemed to glow, his shaggy blond hair forming a halo around his head.
Angie didn’t quite leap up, mindful of her painful back, but she stood as quickly as was wise and pushed her way through the crowd towards him, ignoring the protestations of those who were in her way. When she reached him, she threw her arms around his shoulders and pulled him tightly into her, inhaling the familiar scent of him, unchanged after all these years. He rested his cheek on the top of her head, and she could feel his arms encircling her. For the first time in forever, she felt safe and cherished. She hadn’t realised that the feeling had been missing from her life until this moment, and the thought brought tears springing to her eyes. She blinked them away, knowing that Tiger would only tease her for such a display of emotion and not wanting to give him the ammunition, not yet at least. There would be plenty of time for teasing later.
He was the first to break away.
‘Okay, okay,’ he said, his voice light and full of humour. ‘Put me down, woman. You don’t know where I’ve been!’
This was true.
‘Let’s go and get some food and you can tell me everything,’ she said, giving him one final squeeze before loosening her arms and letting him free.
He grasped her hand in his as they set off towards the exit. His skin felt dry, from hours in planes and trains, she thought, and she could feel his rough skin, his calloused fingers scratching against her smooth, strong ones. They both had working hands, but their work had left very different marks.
They had a brief discussion about what kind of establishment they wanted to go to. Tiger thought it would be funny to settle his scruffy, unwashed self in the lounge of the smart hotel next to the station, just to irritate the management. He really hadn’t grown up at all. Back in the day, this would have amused Angie too, but now she just wanted uninterrupted time with him without drawing any unwelcome attention. Also, she couldn’t help but think that his unkempt traveller’s appearance wouldn’t cause the consternation now that it might have done back in the eighties. The sensibilities of the world had moved on in the previous three decades, although not, it appeared, for Tiger.