Then he realised in that moment that he didn’t know a lot of things when it came to Sibyl, and his reaction to her, and he found that supremely annoying.
They studied their menus in silence and they ordered their meals after the drinks were brought to the table.
She spent a great deal of time pretending he wasn’t there and looking out the windows at the sea.
He spent that time watching her.
The waiter brought Colin’s steak and the bottle of wine Colin ordered. He also set some dish down in front of Sibyl that looked entirely concocted out of mushrooms.
Colin made no comment and Sibyl did the same.
They ate in silence.
When he was finished, he sat back in his chair, stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles, and continued to watch her while drinking his wine.
She valiantly attempted to finish her meal but then set her fork down and sat back herself, sipping her wine nervously, her eyes darting anywhere but to him.
“Do you want dessert?” he asked politely and she jumped in surprise at the sound of his voice.
She looked at him. The restaurant was illuminated with a romantic, candlelit ambiance so the lighting in the room was dim and therefore Colin couldn’t see the colour of her eyes.
She shook her head.
He took his money clip from the breast pocket of his suit jacket, peeled off enough notes to pay for dinner and tossed them on the table.
He stood and Sibyl stood too.
He moved behind her, took her coat from her chair and helped her put it on. He felt her body was stiff under his hands.
This annoyed him even further.
The waiter scurried to their table looking alarmed.
“Is there anything wrong?” he asked (Colin noticed, with still growing irritation, the waiter asked Sibyl, staring at her like a lovesick puppy).
“We’re leaving,” Colin answered in clipped tones.
“Everything was lovely, thank you,” Sibyl assured the waiter and smiled at him again.
Colin’s irritation grew even more at her smile, another smile not directed at him. Without another word, he grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the restaurant.
Once outside, she yanked her arm away and quickened her step in an attempt to avoid him, something that some force inside him was driving him not to allow. As they hit the pavement, Colin’s fingers curled around her upper arm just as he saw a flash from the headlamps of a car parked not two car lengths away. Without warning, the engine revved and the car shot forward.
Sibyl was a step ahead of him, ready to cross the road to get to the Mercedes, when the car came directly at her like it was aiming. Instinctively and swiftly, Colin dropped his hold of her but hooked his arm around her waist and snatched her from the street, pulling her into his body with such strength that her head crashed against his chin. He ignored the jolt of pain and at the same time took two deep steps backward. This meant the car narrowly missed them both as it flew passed, two of its tires up on the pavement, and kept going without braking.
He set Sibyl down in front of him but held her, the warmth of her back pressed tightly against his body, and he could feel her heavy breathing. His arm, which had been about her waist, had slid up and was closed around her ribcage, her fingers were clutching it as if she’d never let him go and he could feel her heart beating wildly. Both of their heads were turned, staring after the car for a long moment even after it disappeared before Sibyl lifted her hand to touch the back of her head distractedly where it had smashed against his chin.
“My goodness, he narrowly missed you. Are you all right?”
This came from an elderly lady who was rushing toward them and to Colin’s irritated surprise, it was Marian Byrne.
“Mrs. Byrne!” Sibyl gasped.
“Sibyl!” Marian Byrne replied and Sibyl broke free of his arm and gave the woman a tight embrace.
“Did you see that?” Sibyl exclaimed when she ended the embrace. She swung toward Colin, her evening’s silent treatment a memory. “That lunatic driver nearly hit us. It was like… it was like he was aiming at us.”
Colin stared at her then swung his head to where the car had gone, his thoughts racing.
She was correct. It seemed exactly as if the car was aiming at them.
Marian Byrne obviously agreed. “I saw it and it did look like he was aiming at you. My goodness gracious, goodness, goodness gracious,” Marian Byrne chanted, her voice filled with alarm.
Colin turned his head again and stared at Mrs. Byrne.
Regardless of what seemed to Colin like a telling coincidence – these two women tended to “run into” each other with alarming frequency – Marian Byrne looked genuinely distraught.
“Mrs. Byrne, you need to sit down.” Sibyl had moved toward the older woman and slid her arm around her. Carefully looking both ways, she guided Mrs. Byrne across the street to a bench under a streetlamp that faced the sea. Colin followed silently and watched as Sibyl crouched down next to the older woman once she was seated.
Sibyl looked up to him.
“Should we take her back to the restaurant, get her a drink?” she asked and in the light of the streetlamp he could see her face was awash with concern.
“I’m fine, I just need to take a few deep breaths,” Marian answered.
“Mrs. Byrne, why are you out tonight?” Sibyl voiced the question to which Colin wanted an answer. “It’s late. You should be home. What if you’d been in the path of that crazy man? You wouldn’t have been able to get out of his way,” she glanced hesitantly at Colin and whispered, “I nearly didn’t get out of the way,” and he realised that was the closest he would likely get to any expression of gratitude.
Marian gave a deep shudder and replied, “I’m restless. I think it’s this unseasonable weather. England is never this sunny and warm in March. At least not in my many years of experience.” She smiled wanly and her hand lifted to pat the hand that Sibyl was resting on her arm.
Finally Colin spoke. “I’ll take you home.”
“Oh no, Mr. Morgan, I live not a five minute walk from here, ten at the most.”
“I insist,” Colin said in a voice that seconded the words he uttered.
When Mrs. Byrne looked like she was going to protest, Sibyl moved closer to her, shifting awkwardly on her crouched legs. “Let Colin take you home, Mrs. Byrne. Please? For me?”
Sibyl smiled at the other woman and Colin noted this smile was not dazzling but faltering. She was still reacting to the near-miss with the car and it became clear, even though he had thought differently moments before, that both of these women had nothing to do with the events of that night.