Chapter Thirty-Four
We meet by the Half Rabbit, a fabulous street-art installation by Portuguese artist and activist Bordalo II.
The half sculpture, half mural is made from recycled materials, and is bright and vibrant, with an underlying message about overconsumption and the environment.
It’s a great meeting spot because it’s by the river and everyone knows where the Half Rabbit is.
Everyone except old Albert, that is. Artwork with meaning makes me fall in love with Porto all over again, as if I am becoming part of the fabric of the city, slowly but surely as I rebuild my life. Rebuild who I am without my father.
We find a spot to sit, out of the way of people taking selfies in front of the artwork.
Even Thomas joins us which I’m delighted to see.
He sits off to the side, battling hard to hold his Crimean War hardback high.
He must have got to some kind of plot twist because he is riveted.
As a fellow bibliophile I know that desperate-need-for-answers expression anywhere.
Thomas lets out a volley of laughter that catches us all unaware.
We hastily hatch a plan for the next stage of our investigations. Being scribe I duly write them in my notebook of mysteries:
Zephyr and old Arthur: figure out who Jo?o Silva is and see if they can find anyone connected to him that might share who he really is.
Viviane and Tiago to do a deep dive and see what the world wide web provides about this man and if we can find any link to Lucinda.
Thomas to provide moral support if and when needed.
Tiago gives me a look that’s loaded with meaning. The only problem is, I don’t know exactly what the meaning is. Before I can decode it, he says, ‘You’ve got a …’ He curls an escaped strand of hair off my face.
I frown. I’m not opposed to personal touch from my sidekick, it’s inevitable that we’ll grow close over the course of our investigations, but Tiago seems to be going out of his way to brush against me in some way. A light pat here and a comforting hand squeeze there.
Tiago edges closer to me and whispers, ‘Don’t you think it’s odd that Thomas finds the Crimean War so amusing?’
Is this where I inform my trusty sidekick that his ‘bookmark’ book is in fact not a bookmark at all? It’s not my secret to tell. ‘Could be an uplifting part? Stories of camaraderie, of shenanigans in their downtime after long months away from their families, that sort of thing.’
Tiago rubs his chin. ‘I – ah, just wonder if he needs a bit of support, someone to hear him out maybe? I’m a little concerned that he’s finding it funny.
Look at him,’ he whispers into my neck, provoking a tingle from his proximity.
Tiago is right, Thomas’s face is animated as he reads, every now and then he quietly chortles, smiling.
I’m certain this is one mystery I know the answer to, having watched my mother make the very same faces most evenings when she curls up to read her sweet romantic comedies, while I watch old episodes of Murder She Wrote.
There’s nothing wrong with making certain though.
I pat Tiago’s leg, code for stay there, he gives me a sweet-eyed stare.
Honestly. I inch behind Thomas, trying not to let my shadow fall across his page and give my position up.
I hold my breath, as I hastily read a few words: papers went flying as they collided, bumping heads and landing in a tangled heap with a surprise burst of laughter.
A meet-cute! Confirmed. Thomas is reading a romance novel. Why does he need to hide that? Any man who reads romance novels is far more appealing than a man who does not. His masculinity card isn’t revoked because he enjoys love stories, quite the opposite in fact.
Who doesn’t love the idea of being swept away by a funny romcom, or having their heart split open and put back together with an angsty romantic suspense?
A lot of people deride the romance genre, yet it features in almost every Hollywood movie from action to spy to drama.
There’s just no need to pretend it’s not a core storyline and that we don’t all yearn for it, in some way, shape or form.
Even me. My bruised heart is healing. Part of me does pine for my own plus one.
Not to attend yet another cousin’s wedding though, I want to make that abundantly clear.
Does Thomas work in an environment where toxic masculinity is rife and therefore feels the need to hide his love of romance novels? Or is there more to it?
Back with Tiago, I sit on the wall. ‘It’s a war novel,’ I say. ‘About mateship and the fun they made to get through the long months without their families.’ It’s only a small lie. But I sense that Thomas is reading romance for reasons he isn’t yet ready to share.
Thomas closes his book and says just loud enough for only me to hear, ‘I can’t wait to get to the bit where they lived happily ever after …’