Since it was still light, they walked along the spit of land between the sea and the ley. After the two drinks, she felt warm inside, and slightly indistinct at the edges. A pack of gulls flew with the wind. You could find warblers here, he told her, and great crested grebes. “Elizabeth was never very interested in wildlife. She said it all looked the same.” Sometimes Maureen listened and sometimes she didn’t. She was thinking of Harold, and replaying in her mind the scene where they had met forty-seven years ago. Strange how she had mislaid the details of that night for so long.

She had noticed Harold straight away. She couldn’t miss him. Jiving by himself in the middle of the dance floor, the flaps of his coat flying out like great dog-tooth-check wings. It was as if he were dancing something out that was locked inside himself. She’d never seen anything like it; the young men her mother introduced were all stiff partings and black tie. Maybe he had sensed her watching, even across that dark, throbbing hall, because he had stopped suddenly and caught her eye. He had danced some more, and she had continued watching. She was transfixed. It was the raw energy of him that moved her; the completeness of what he was. He had stopped again. Caught her eye again. Then he had threaded his way through the crowd, and halted so close she could smell the heat of his skin.

Now she had the moment in her mind, she saw it vividly: the way he stooped with his mouth towards her ear, and parted a small lock of her hair so that he could speak into it. The boldness of the gesture had sent prickles of electricity shooting the length of her neck. Even now she felt a distant fluttering under her skin. What was it he had said next? It was very funny, whatever it was, and they had laughed so much it brought on an embarrassing bout of hiccups. She remembered how the coat had swung as he strode to the bar to fetch a glass of water, and how she had not moved, waiting for him. In those days, it was as if the world only put its lights on when Harold was near. Who were those two young people who had danced and laughed so completely?

She grew aware that Rex had stopped speaking. He was watching her.

“Penny for your thoughts, Maureen.”

She smiled and shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

They stood side by side, and looked out over the water. The sinking sun laid a red path from the horizon towards the shore. She wondered where Harold was sleeping, and wished she could say goodnight. Maureen stretched back her neck towards the sky, searching the dusk for the first sprinkle of stars.

15

Harold and the New Beginning