Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
The evening passed without any great revelations or deep soul-searching, which he suspected they were both thankful for.
And in the course of it he learned that, while she might be reserved, that reserve, as he’d imagined, hid a depth of emotion he could only guess at.
Tears had shone in her eyes during the slow movement at the end of the concert.
He’d found it hard to keep his eyes on the stage.
His gaze kept shifting to her. In the end he didn’t bother to pretend he was watching the musicians, because she seemed unaware, lost in a place where he couldn’t reach her.
It was only when the music stopped, the applause began to fade and the lights came on, that she turned to him after a brief swipe of her eyes.
‘Music always gets me.’
He nodded. ‘It’s sneaky like that. Bypasses the defences.’
She nodded and looked back to the stage where the curtain had finally closed on the musicians. ‘That was lovely, thanks, Daniel. I really enjoyed it.’
They rose and walked out into the foyer. One exit led to the car park, the other to doors that opened onto the street, lined with cafés and bars.
‘Would you like a drink? Coffee?’ he added hastily, thinking that sounded less date-like.
She turned to him, both hands clutching her bag, but with a big smile. ‘What I’d like is to go home.’
He felt his own smile fade.
She stepped closer to him. ‘Because it’s easier to talk. Easier to get to know each other in a quiet space.’
After she looped her arm through his and they walked over to the lift which would take them to the carpark, he felt his smile re-appear.
Augi felt unaccountably nervous as she put her key in the lock of her small rental cottage.
But she didn’t have any inclination to change her mind, despite this being a first for her.
She rarely, if ever, invited anyone, bar neighbours, into her personal space.
But it was time — beyond time — to open up her life a little.
Besides, she didn’t seem to have any option.
It felt as if it were splitting apart of its own volition — helped along by Dan.
She glanced at him shyly. His silhouette was outlined by the streetlamp behind him but she could see his smile widen as his gaze met hers.
She knew he wouldn’t be expecting anything more than a drink and a chat.
She’d made sure to subtly send that message on the drive home.
Besides, she knew there was no way Dan would push himself into any situation where he wasn’t wanted.
Thing was, he was usually wanted. And tonight was no exception.
‘Welcome to my home,’ she said, stepping aside as he entered the small room which held her kitchen, sitting and dining rooms. Not that each one had ever been a room.
There had only ever been one space, dominated by the original fireplace which now held a wood burner, much needed in the shadowy cottage in winter when the sun disappeared behind the hills.
But she had decorated her home with the rich, warm colours of Greece.
It was the one place where she wanted her home country to be around her.
‘It’s lovely,’ said Dan, looking around, his gaze alighting on different objects — the framed images of Greece and the books — before settling on the personal photographs.
Her smile dropped a little. She hadn’t imagined she’d invite him back — she rarely invited anyone to her home — and so it wasn’t stranger-proof.
But then he looked at her and she knew he wouldn’t go over and study them. ‘You have a lovely home.’
She huffed a laugh as she took the few steps into the kitchen, noting the repetition of the word lovely. It was a good try. ‘That’s very kind of you, but I don’t think it measures up to anything you’re used to.’
His face became serious. ‘I’m not kidding. It’s not the size of a space that makes up a home. It’s the personality of the people — or the person — living in it.’
‘Oh,’ she faltered. ‘I’m not sure what my home says about me.’
He looked around, quiet for a few moments, and then settled his gaze once more on her. ‘It says you’re someone for whom home is important. It shows a side to you — colours even — which you don’t normally express.’
Her hand shook a little as she opened her larder door. Time to change the subject. ‘I have a bottle of red wine. Or would you prefer a hot drink?’
He opened his mouth to speak and seemed to check himself. ‘A hot drink will be fine, thanks.’
‘Coffee?’
‘Please.’
She watched him surreptitiously as she measured the cold water into the briki, and added the fine coffee grounds, together with a little sugar. ‘I’m afraid I only have the old traditional way of making coffee — on the stovetop with the briki. It takes a little longer.’
‘No problem.’ He glanced down. ‘Is that what the copper pot is called?’
She nodded, as she placed it over the heat and stirred the mixture. ‘An important part of any Greek household — even if they no longer live there. Old habits die hard.’
She took out a tin of baking, arranged the biscuits on a plate and placed them on the small coffee table which she’d bought, like the rest of the furniture, at the local op shop.
‘Amygdalota — or almond cookies,’ she said. ‘Traditional Greek biscuits to have with coffee in the evening.’
‘Um, looks delicious,’ he said, raising an eyebrow.
‘You look surprised.’
‘It’s just more… Greek, I suppose, than I imagined.’ He looked at her. ‘You don’t talk about Greece very much.’
‘No,’ she sat down and looked at her fingers clasped in her lap. ‘People don’t want to hear about things which aren’t of interest or relevance to them.’
He frowned quizzically. ‘I think you might underestimate people. Especially people who are interested in you.’
‘There aren’t that many, believe me.’ She immediately wished she hadn’t said that. It seemed like an invitation for him to prove the opposite were true.
‘It might have escaped you, because you’re so modest, but believe me, I don’t know anyone who isn’t interested in “our librarian.”’
‘Books,’ she muttered. ‘The universal connection.’
‘No, it’s more than that. You touch people’s lives with your compassion.’
‘Oh,’ she said, waving a hand dismissively.
‘I’m sure you’re guessing, which of course is lovely.
It’s nice that you should think that. But—’ She jumped up, remembering the coffee.
‘I’d better get…’ She trailed off and walked quickly into the kitchen, and set the coffee aside to rest for a few minutes.
‘I’d feel much more comfortable talking about you,’ she said, sitting down again. ‘This getting to know each other is a two-way thing remember.’
‘Sure.’ He put one arm over the back of the sofa. ‘What would you like to know?’
‘Why you came home,’ she said. The question covered everything she wanted to know.
‘Because it turned out the job I thought I loved didn’t love me, and nor did the woman. It got me thinking.’
‘What?’
‘That the things I’d got sucked into, the things I thought were important, weren’t important.
It got me thinking that I’d been fooled by appearances.
Not anyone’s fault really, other than my own.
’ He paused. ‘Actually, it was my ex’s fault.
’ He shot Augi a disarming grin. ‘But I won’t dwell on that.
All I can do is realise I messed up and make sure I don’t make the same mistakes again. ’
‘So you left.’
‘I left,’ he confirmed. ‘Everything. My job and the woman who, apparently now wants to get back with me.’
Augi felt an unexpected pang of jealousy. She shifted in her chair and cleared her throat. ‘And, will you?’
He looked directly at her. ‘No. She’s not the woman for me. And, even if she doesn’t know it, I’m not the man for her.’
She studied her fingers. Somehow they’d become incredibly fascinating. ‘You sound sure.’
‘I am.’
She looked up at him then. ‘Daniel. I’d really like to know. Why are you interested in getting to know me? I’m at least ten years older than you and, as I told you, I have secrets which is something I know distresses you, and I’m independent, a loner, someone not used to male interest.’
‘I find that hard to believe,’ he said.
‘Stop, right there,’ she said extending her hand to him. ‘Please do not flirt with me. Please do not flatter me. I know who I am. What I don’t know is why you wish to know me better.’
‘Augustini,’ he shook his head. ‘I’m sorry if what I say sounds like flattery.
Maybe I’ve just been mixing with the wrong crowd for too long so that I come across as glib.
But there’s one thing you do need to know about me and that is that I say what I mean.
Okay, sometimes I clothe it in words which come maybe a little too easy, but the meaning remains true.
Because I really do find it hard to believe that you’re not used to male interest.’ He waved his hand in a flourish at her.
‘I mean, look at you. You’re beautiful, intelligent, kind.
’ He smiled. ‘You see, the date is working and my original opinions are being backed up by evidence.’ He sighed and sat back. ‘I like you. I more than like you.’
She nodded but twisted her lips into a grimace. She still felt there was something amiss. ‘But you’ve only just left another woman. Have you considered that you’re on the rebound, searching for someone different?’
‘I’ve thought about that. Believe me, I’ve accused myself of all sorts of things.
And if I haven’t, Mum has. She was worried I’d hurt you and concerned I was attracted to you because of what happened in Washington.
’ He shrugged. ‘But I truly don’t believe that.
I wanted nothing more than to avoid the opposite sex forever.
A seminary was looking attractive to me in the months immediately after I left the US. ’
She laughed, the tension broken. ‘I cannot imagine you in a seminary.’
He joined her laughter. ‘Me neither. I like talking too much for one thing. And company for another. And I’m not so good at the religion bit either. And, well, I like women, too.’
She rose and poured them each a coffee into small cups. He made an appreciative sound as he took a sip.
‘I’ve never been to Greece.’
‘You should go. It’s a beautiful country. Full of history, not just ancient and classical but modern too. Art, music, theatre. It has a lot.’
‘Don’t you miss it?’
‘Yes, of course.’ She blinked as memories kaleidoscoped through her head.
Of people, places, smells and sights. She blinked again and they were gone.
And all she was left with was a bunch of faded photographs on her bookcase.
As the memories surged up, unasked for and unwanted, she suddenly wondered what on earth she was doing.
‘Look I’m sorry. I have work tomorrow, so… ’
Dan looked alarmed and she momentarily felt sorry for upsetting the evening. But he was getting too close. She’d enjoyed the evening and the conversation and company, but that didn’t mean that she was about to open up to him about her past. Not yet, if ever.
‘Of course,’ he said, quickly finishing off his coffee before jumping up. He took his coffee cup into the kitchen, and placed it in the sink. She rose and went to the door. He paused beside her. ‘I hope I haven’t spoiled the evening by saying something stupid.’
‘You haven’t spoiled the evening,’ she assured him. She smiled then. ‘It was too lovely to spoil.’
‘Good. Because I really enjoyed it. Goodnight then.’
She resisted the urge to step towards him. ‘Goodnight. And thank you,’ she added.
‘My pleasure.’ He took a step outside and then turned to her. ‘Perhaps we could do it again some time?’
‘I’d like that.’
She didn’t wait to watch him drive away but shut the door before he’d reached the end of the garden path.
She leaned back against the door and closed her eyes.
She stayed there, listening to the sound of him entering the car, a pause before he turned on the ignition and drove away.
There was no abrupt acceleration as he drove off down the long road, although she was sure he must have felt a certain amount of frustration.
She was about to turn off the light when she caught sight of herself in the mirror.
Her hair was loose and she hardly recognised herself.
She looked so much younger. While she was wearing some make-up, whereas she usually didn’t, it wasn’t that.
The change was in the expression in her eyes.
They looked larger, more innocent and more hopeful than she’d seen them in years.
She switched off the light and turned her back on her now shadowy image in the mirror. She didn’t want to be reminded of that girl. She’d thought she was gone. But it seemed she wasn’t. And she didn’t have the first idea what to do about it.