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THE TWENTY-FIRST pt3

Taylor and I are standing on the pebbles that make up Brighton’s ‘beach’, watching the waves crash on the shore as the weak, wintery sun does its best to warm our freezing limbs. When it is clear that the warmth radiating off Taylor is not enough to stop me from shaking with cold, we agree that it is time to head back into town.

I love visiting the beach, and after this morning’s revelations, it has helped blow away some of the insane thoughts racing through my brain. We take a slow meander through the Lanes, stopping in front of quirky shops to gaze at their wares. Taylor lets me drag him into the Cath Kidston store and indulges me whilst I ooh and ah over their baking goodies. Eventually, he buys me an apron in the traditional Provence rose print just to shut me up and get me out of the store. I grin and tell him he is insane; after the coffee machine and the iPad, he doesn’t need to be buying me things. But he just grins at me and tells me he would give me the moon if he could. I
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