So that was the prologue then. I have worked on it some more since my first post and here is the updated version:
The Seaside (20th December 2006, the penultimate day of Autumn)
It was getting very late and the café was empty now except for Robert, who was sitting at his usual table by the window. He was very handsome, with
smouldering coal-coloured eyes and short dark brown hair. Together with a smooth, clean-shaven face and a lean, but strong body, he appeared to be in
his mid-to-late twenties. However, it was the intensity of Robert’s curious black eyes and the rather old fashioned mannerisms that he tried so hard
to suppress, which contradicted his youthful looks and suggested that he might be much older.
This evening, Robert was gazing out into the night watching the oncoming storm while Maggie, the café owner, cleaned the tables around him. As she
moved about he did not seem to notice her, his attention focussed far away from the café, somewhere out at sea maybe amongst the large white-crested
waves. The tide was high and the waves crashed mutedly onto the pebble beach with such a terrific force that it sent them crashing against the stone
sea wall and funnelling up the stone staircases cut into it.
As Robert left the café the bell above the door tinkled. He walked away down the promenade, pulling the hood of his coat up and drawing the collar in
to keep out the spray from the waves. It was only when he had almost reached the closed down theatre perched on the edge of the headland that he
stopped to glance back at the café. The distant lights were reduced to bright frosty rings, halos, with Maggie as a small silhouette against the soft
glow. She was still watching him.
“I’m sorry, Maggie, I really am,” Robert said quietly, lowering his voice as if she might hear. “But you don’t know me. You know nothing
about me and I don’t want to hurt you. Not again. Not after last time.”
Robert remembered her disappointment that evening in the café, catching her thoughts as they had tumbled out in confused silky ribbons of dark browns
and yellows.
“Would it matter if I did tell you? What about if I told you everything?”
It was so tempting. He really wanted to, but knew that once he had, it was so terrible that he wondered if she would be able to forgive him and he
would have to take it back.
“And how will I be able to forgive myself when I have to steal it all back from you?” And he felt the fresh prickle of guilt.
In answer to his questions, the wind blew harder catching his long coat in its grip, revealing a flash of velvet blue as it flapped over a corner.
Disagreeing with him, it tugged at the coat and Robert imagined that it was trying to push him back to the café. Maybe the wind was right, but it was
too late as he had already made up his mind. It was with some effort that Robert turned and walked away from the seafront where he was consumed by the
shadows of the night.
edit on 5/12/2014 by YarlanZey because: (no reason given)