The Furthest Point

"So this is it then, is it?" Julia asked, when the road had reached its end and only sea lay out ahead.

"Yes."

Edward coaxed the car up onto the the little verge and parked it, deliberately. The windscreen was split - sky in the top half, sea in the bottom - two slightly different shades of grey.

"Why isn't it more famous?"

"It is famous."

"Not where I'm from." She opened the passenger-side door and tried to get out, but was pinned back in her seat by the violence of the wind. She closed the door and giggled. Edward didn't join in.

"There's not much in it, but Dunnet Head is a mile or two further north."

His tone was a little defensive, Julia thought, so she leant across and kissed him reassuringly, on the cheek. He felt his chest swell.

"I'm not sure we're going to get outside," she said.

"Of course we will."

Edward zipped up his coat, pulled his scarf tight and reached for the handle of the door. He levered it open and stepped carefully out. He was almost blown over but managed to stay just about upright.

Having slammed his door, he worked his way carefully around the front of the car to hers, with two hands on the bonnet all the way. He opened her door and waited for her to disembark. She crossed her arms and laughed and shook her head.

Edward felt a creeping awkwardness, so he did what he always did when he felt a creeping awkwardness and kissed her. He bent over, leant into the car and pushed his lips keenly and clumsily against hers. She put her warm hand on the back of his neck and pulled gently at his hair. He smiled and the kiss broke off.

"You're a real man."

"I know." He unclipped the buckle of her belt and pulled her up and from the car. When she was fully out, they fell back, propelled by the wind, into the door, slamming it shut. He pinned her against the car and they kissed again, her hands wriggling blindly and blithely into his pockets and jangling his keys.

"Can we get back in now?" she whispered, her cold cheek against his.

"We haven't come all the way up here to sit in the car."

"This is silly."

"No, it isn't." He turned around and led her slowly across to the edge, the wind whipping against their faces as they walked.

"It's a shame it's not clearer," he shouted. "On a sunny day you can see Orkney from here."

"How far away is it?"

"About fifteen miles."

"Right."

They stood in silence for a minute or two, he now behind her, arms around her waist, while they both stared out into the great grey mass. Two blueish greys, but greys nonetheless. When a little time had passed, she swivelled and stared up at him.  He looked back: pink face, green eyes.

"It isn't silly," he whispered, and saw that she knew he was right.