Eric hasn't said a word since we left the manor. He's barely looked in my direction since we started driving. When our song came on the radio, 'Love Really Hurts Without You', I started humming and looked over to see if he'd join in – he didn't. Something's wrong. I just wish I knew what it was. The air in the car is so tense that I'm afraid to even ask.

But I have to. Right?

"Is everything okay?"

He jolts at my voice, like he forgot there was even someone else in the car.

"Hm? Yeah," he answers without looking at me, "yeah, everything's fine."

No 'love'. No 'Evie'. No eye contact. Am I reading too much into this?

"Um, thanks for, you know, inviting me and everything." Oh my god, could I sound any lamer?

His smile is forced. "Thank you for saying yes and putting up with everyone! Wouldn't have been a birthday without you." His words are casually sincere, and I'd almost be convinced, but they're too smooth, too glib – like a thank you after a dinner party.

"I had fun," I say, just for the sake of saying something, anything. He doesn't respond, and the low sounds of the radio become the loudest sound in the car again. Did he not have fun?

I think of his face at the races and the opera and his birthday dinner – the easy-going, ever-charming host. Then, I think of his face yesterday, and the tension in his body as he sat with his father and Freddie.

"Hey, um, you know yesterday – when you were on the balcony with your dad and Freddie? What were you guys talking about? It looked sort of intense?" I laugh lightly, hoping to lighten the mood that's descended, but he doesn't. His jaw tightens when he grinds his teeth, and he speaks, his tone is curt – upset, maybe?

"Nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Eric, come on," I reach a gentle hand out and place it over his on the wheel, "if your grip gets any tighter, your skin'll tear. Clearly it wasn't 'nothing'. What's wrong?"

"Evie, just drop it, alright?" His words are explosive, but he isn't. He just sounds, and frankly looks, exhausted. "It was family stuff. That's all."

I sit back, with my hands firmly in my lap. I let the music-infused silence pervade for a momenta before I speak.

"Was it about your sister?"

"Nelly? No, why?"

I stare down at my folded hands. "Not Nelly," I say quietly.

And finally, he looks at me. Only, when he turns his head, he forgets that we're on the M5.and lets his hands fall from the wheel.

"Oi!"
"What the hell are you doing, mate!"

The chorus of beeps and profanities snaps him out of his shock-induced trance, and the gentleman in him prompts him to stick an apologetic hand out of the window. "Sorry! Sorry!"

It'd be funnier in different circumstances.

He pulls over to the nearest hard shoulder, and when we stop, he sits silently for a minute.

"When did you find out?"

"Your birthday," I answer, doing my best to still my fidgeting hands. "I was in the cellar, and -"

"Nelly," he assumes just as fast as Pip did. I nod.

Taking the key out of the ignition, he taps it against the steering wheel. "I was going to tell you, Evie."

"You didn't have to, Eric. You don't have to – not if you don't want to, I mean."

He shifts as suddenly as he speaks, restless as he turns his entire body to face me. "That's it though, Evie. It's not that I didn't want to tell you, I just... it took me so long to let go of Moonie. Everyone around me just kept dwelling on the fact that she was 'gone', and that she'd never come back. I don't know, I just thought..."

He purses his lips and shrugs a slow, gradual shrug, as though he's just coming to the realisation himself.

"I guess I thought that if one person in my life didn't know about it, about her – it wouldn't be so real."

The silence in the car changes with his confession. He's not crying, so I'll try my best not to, but I'm looking at him, and in his flushed cheeks and wistful eyes, I'm seeing his heart. He's letting me in, and all I want is to be there for him, to hug him and protect him. Whatever guard he had up today has come crashing down.

Taking his warm face in my hands, I watch the colour deepen as I whisper,

"I love you, okay? Whenever you want to talk about her, however much you want to say, I'm here. I'll drop everything and anything if you say the word. Alright? I'm here."

I kiss his cheek, and although closes his eyes and gives me a sad smile, when he leans out and away from me to start the car again, I worry I've lost him to the barrier again. Until I feel his hand on my knee.

"I love you," he says, his words naked with sincerity. This time, when I place my hand over his, he smiles.

✧*

The silence for the next half hour is more comfortable, with bouts of humming and casual conversation over the smooth running of the engine.

"Hey, how come we're in Bristol?" I ask, peering behind me when an aged 'Welcome to Bristol sign' rolls past my window.

Dad lives in Bristol; although, we only really see him when he comes down to us in London. I'm used to only coming out here with August on special occasions, like Fathers' Day, or the day he thinks is my birthday but actually gets wrong every year.

"We came by the Oxford route the first time," Eric explains, "but the traffic's ridiculous around there today – some international alumni event."

"Oh. You didn't want to go?"

Eric shudders, no doubt thinking of the night of his birthday and the rowdy crowd that came with it,

"Yeah, no. I think I've had enough of that lot to last me the rest of my life."

We laugh together, and the laughter fills the car entirely, before tumbling out of the windows onto the wings of the wind. His smile, this sound and the gentle breeze give me hope.

⏤⏤

[ERIC]

Breathing in the refreshing seaside air, Eric relished the feeling of sharing a genuine smile with Evangeline. He felt as though he had been holding his breath since the car journey home began, and once Evangeline kissed him, he had been able to exhale pure joy.

As a test of sorts, he had been trying to see whether or not he could imagine the life he was soon likely to lead. A life where the woman he loved would be within his reach, but not his.

After speaking to his parents (and Freddie, although he hated to admit it to himself), Eric had made what was perhaps the most torturous decision he would ever have to make: the decision to let Evie go. When they arrived home, he would tell her the truth: he knew about Dublin and wanted her to go and be free – truly free– to follow her dreams and whatever or whoever else life threw her way. That would be the end of the two of them. For now, at least. If fate brough them back together again after that, well, that was up to fate alone.

If he had ever been in doubt of the fact, it had become clear to Eric over the past months, weeks, hours, moments that a life without Evie was the furthest possible thing from what he wanted; which made him all the more certain that he had to make distance between them.

He'd lapsed when she mentioned Faith. His heart couldn't help but open like a blooming flower to the kind-hearted girl. Eric could still feel the phantom of the kiss on his cheek now. But the reality was that if he was going to see his plan through, those sorts of things had to come to a slow but certain stop – touches and promises. It would only make it more difficult for him to let her go.

"Hey!" Evangeline exclaimed. She turned to him with a glowing grin, patting a finger against her window. Eric flitted his eyes over from the road, only for a moment this time¸ to see what had caught her eye. It was a sign. TAKE THE NEXT EXIT FOR BREAN BREACH: 15KM NORTHWEST.

"We should go to the beach! The sea here is un-real."

Eric felt the instant internal grapple between the promise he had been chanting in his head since yesterday afternoon, and the desires of his heart. His heart, as always, was louder. Still, he had to at least try to stick to his intention.

"Isn't your mum expecting you back today? From the, um, basketball camp thing?"

She shook her head, her excitement still at its peak,

"Nope! I was going to come back today and say that I left early to surprise her, but it's supposed to end in, like, a week, so I can go back whenever! Eric, come on!"

Her joy was contagious; Eric couldn't help but chuckle. But inside, he was gripped by the throes of conflict.

How could he say no to so perfect a vision – a spring night with the love of his life?

But if he said yes, he would be renouncing all integrity: he couldn't allow them to go to the beach, smiling, playing, and kissing promises of forever, when he knew what lay ahead. He couldn't.

"Okay," she began, "I can see your hesitation, so I would like to pitch it to you simply."

Eric chuckled as she cleared her throat, preparing to make her proposal.

"Number one: beautiful, sandy, sunny beach. Number two: a perfect evening before all that reality stuff waiting for us at home. Number three: alone time with a girl who has a really, really big crush on you. Number four: I don't actually have a fourth. I was hoping you'd be sold by three."

When he laughed again, Evangeline took her chance, leaning in with a singsong whisper,

"Say yes, Eric. You know you wanna."

✧*

Some forty minutes later after Eric had, of course, agreed and embarked on the route to the beach, a thump sounded from beneath the car. At the abrupt jolting sensation, Evangeline paused her hummed rendition of 'Summer Holiday'.

"What was that?"

Despite his panicked prayers as he parked the car at the roadside and rushed out to take a look, it was precisely what Eric had hoped it wasn't.

"We've got a flat," he frowned, "and no spare."

"Oh. Maybe someone around here has a one?"

Eric scanned the quiet Bristol neighbourhood thrice over, before spotting a man lock his car before walking into a newsagent on the corner.

"I've just seen someone," Eric said, already heading in the shop's direction, "I'll be one second, okay?"

"Excuse me, sir!" Eric called after the shiny-headed figure making its way down the fizzy drinks' aisle. "Excuse me!"

A ginger-stubbled face met his once he managed to catch the man's attention. "Sorry, mate," he laughed, "thought I was hearing voices. You alright?"

"That's alright, heh," Eric smiled, slightly winded from the chase, "sorry to be a bother, but my car's out front and it's got a flat. You wouldn't happen to have a spare, would you? It's a VW Beetle."

The man wagged his shaggy ginger eyebrows,

"You're a lucky bloke – I've got some spares in the boot. My car's just out there." He nodded towards the front of the shop and beckoned Eric along as they left. "Dom, by the way. Where are you parked?"

"Eric – just... there." Eric pointed Dom to the little blue car beneath the oak tree. He grinned at the sight of Evangeline with her earphones in, bopping her head in time with whatever was playing. "You're a lifesaver, mate, thanks so much."

Dom waved a dismissive hand as he marched towards the car. "Not a problem, Eric. Nobody warns the outsiders about the potholes around here, so-"

A foot away from the car, Dom stopped in his tracks, and began squinting inside. His nosy stare seemed fixed on Evangeline.

"Sorry," Eric said, stepping forward to stand between Dom and the car. He began to wonder if he had approached the wrong stranger. "Is there a problem?"

With a forceful hand, Dom moved Eric out of his line of sight, and cleared his throat, before speaking at Evie's closed window.

"Hello, Tangerine."

Just as Eric was about to call the whole thing off and get the nutter as far away from Evangeline as possible, he heard the mechanical whirring of Evangeline's window rolling down behind him.

"...Hi, Dad."