Chapter Twenty-Three
All through the next day, I can’t stop thinking about the way Tomas looked at me as we sat alone in the bar. Perhaps it is just as well that tonight we won’t be left alone at dinner. The presence of Albert and Zuzana should help stave off any romantic feelings.
Tomas arranged to pick me up to go to the restaurant, but as I hang around outside the hotel in the cold there is no sign of him. I begin to wonder if there has been a change of plan when I finally spot Tomas sprinting along from wherever he has managed to find parking.
‘Olivia! I’m so sorry I’m late. The traffic was terrible. Everyone’s leaving work to get home before the expected snow comes in.’
‘That’s okay. Don’t worry. You look as though you’ve been rushing. We can take our time, it’s fine.’
‘Thanks. I really didn’t want to leave you freezing out here waiting for me, so I’m going to have to quickly pop back to mine to pick something up. Do you mind if we swing by my house on the way to the restaurant?’
Tomas’ face is getting pinker, and I don’t know if it is because he has been rushing so fast or due to the cold, but he certainly looks flustered.
‘That’s no problem at all.’
I know I don’t want to be left alone with Tomas for fear of falling for him further, but I am quite interested to see where he lives. So, secretly, I am glad that he is running late and we have to stop at his home.
As we drive out of the city, the magnificent views of the castle and all the sights come into view as the snow starts to sprinkle down like a fairy tale. Luckily, the traffic that Tomas talked of is all going in the opposite direction, and we soon reach the warmth of his home without a hitch.
I wasn’t sure what his house would be like, but I can see right away that it has almost as much character as the mill and I am glad that we had to swing by. I always think seeing where someone lives gives you such an insight into their character.
It is painted a light yellow and has little wooden windows peeping out of the roof tiles where there is an attic room. The garden, just like at my mill, is full of apple and pear trees, although they are quickly being covered in snow.
‘I hope you like it. It’s an old house that I renovated,’ says Tomas.
As we walk into the hallway, I first notice the low wooden beams, followed by a varnished staircase and shelves with antique ornaments that would look quite at home back at the mill.
‘It’s absolutely gorgeous. I love that people renovate old places and give them a new lease of life. It’s a passion I have.’
‘Me too,’ smiles Tomas.
Why is it that every time I find out something new about him, it makes my feelings deepen?
‘Don’t tell me you watch DIY programmes on TV too. You know, those programmes where they renovate properties?’ I ask.
Tomas raises his eyebrows and gives me a wide grin. ‘I absolutely love them.’
‘How did I know you were going to say that? They’re my favourite. I have to stop what I’m doing every day at five o’clock to watch my favourite chateau DIY programme.’
‘Oh, I’d love to renovate a chateau. Now that would be a goal in life.’
I shake my head in disbelief. Why do we have to have so much in common?
‘Do you want to see my cellar?’ asks Tomas.
If anyone else asked me that, I might well have a panic attack and think they wanted to lock me up, but seeing Tomas’ cellar is an invitation I can’t miss. I have never been in one before, and I am in awe as Tomas takes me on a tour around. One dark corner of the cellar is full of red and white wines, and I realise that Tomas must be quite the wine connoisseur, something I didn’t know until now. Then again, in his line of work, I suppose that shouldn’t be such a surprise.
‘It’s amazing. It’s like a secret wine grotto down here.’
Tomas takes out one of the vintage bottles and tells me how he has been saving it for a special occasion and this is what he needed to pick up.
‘I think tonight is special enough to open this. Luckily, you’re allowed to take your own wine to the restaurant we’re going to.’
I have never tasted a proper vintage wine before and worry it might be full of cobwebs. But I am sure Tomas knows what he is doing.
‘Do you know what year it’s from?’ asks Tomas.
‘Oh, I wouldn’t have a clue. You’re the wine specialist. I’m ashamed to admit this, but I just choose the cheapest at the supermarket.’
Finally, I have found something that we don’t have in common, but I’m sure I could be persuaded to convert my ways.
‘Well, it’s from 1993. The year my uncle met your aunt. I thought it would be appropriate.’
‘Tomas, that’s so thoughtful. What a great idea. Goodness though, does 1993 qualify as vintage nowadays?’
‘You’d be surprised,’ laughs Tomas.
When Tomas goes to the bathroom before we leave, I take a closer look at my surroundings. Of course, I don’t peek into drawers and things, but I look around the living room at the photos I didn’t have the nerve to pick up when he was standing beside me. I pick up a silver frame.
Tomas looks so happy in every photograph as his smile radiates out. Even in the photos of him as a child in the Seventies, that big cheesy grin is unmistakable. He seems to have this positive outlook on life that shows on his face, and it is one of the things I adore most about him.
I look at the abstract paintings he has hanging on the walls. They are all bright and sunny and, I expect, reflect his disposition. Even his house is yellow like the sun. Everything here is so colourful, including the sofa and the bright blue throw that lies across it. It is such a happy home. It reminds me of the colour scheme back at the mill. It’s almost a home from home. I peek through an open door to another room and see that it is his study. I look up on the wall to where his university degree certificate hangs. The university that brought him to Wales, where we sadly never met. We were so near, yet so far. I wonder how different things would have been had we met there.
‘Are we ready?’ says Tomas, catching me with a photo of him in my hand with two people who are presumably his parents.
‘Yes, of course. Sorry, I was just looking at this. Mam and Dad?’
‘Yeah, it wasn’t long before their accident.’
‘I can see the resemblance. They look lovely.’
I could stay at Tomas’ home all evening, but we are already running late for dinner.
We leave the house and drive through the lovely suburb he lives in, with its hip art galleries and cafes. It is quite a trendy area, which surprises me given that Tomas’ house is tucked away and more traditional. Street art on the side of buildings blends in with the shop fronts, and I spot a painting of Charles Bridge in a shop window. It is the type of place I could definitely enjoy walking around, window-shopping.
When we reach the restaurant, Tomas holds the door open for me. I can’t help but enjoy a bit of chivalry, even if that does make me old-fashioned to some.
I don’t know if Albert chose the restaurant or Tomas, but I am delighted by its charm. A waiter leads us to a quieter table in the corner with dim mood lighting that reflects against the burgundy and gold damask flock wallpaper. The pristine white pressed tablecloths make me think how I wouldn’t dare have something like tomato soup in here. The restaurant is packed with locals, and I can imagine Aunt Grace coming here with Marek, had they made it. I think how this might have been their favourite place, and they may have even come with Albert and Zuzana who are both already seated at the table. They get up to give me a hug as we greet each other. We chat about the snow, and Tomas tells Albert that he managed to pick up the vintage wine when Albert proposes we make a toast.
‘I think we should celebrate Marek and Grace bringing us all together, don’t you?’ says Albert.
‘I agree. If it wasn’t for them, we would never have met Olivia,’ says Tomas.
‘Very true,’ I say.
‘Let’s not waste time. Let’s open the wine and make a toast,’ says Tomas.
The waiter brings us wine glasses, and Tomas tells me about the corkage fee they have. It seems other tables around us have also brought their own wine. I love the idea of bringing your own drink.
I read the label on the wine one more time. ‘1993. A good year.’
‘Indeed,’ agrees Tomas.
‘To Aunt Grace and Marek,’ I say, holding my wine glass up.
‘To Grace and Marek,’ say the others.
We take a sip of our drinks and have a moment to remember them.
‘What was your favourite memory of your aunt?’ asks Tomas.
‘Ooh, there are so many. That’s a difficult one. I loved how she treated me like a daughter, especially after my mam had died. Even though she was grieving her sister, she was there for me. I loved the way she bought me the best Christmas presents. She always knew what I’d want. Like the time she bought me the hobby horse and a Tiny Tears doll that cried. Now I look back, I’m not sure why I ever wanted a doll that cried.’
I smile as I remember the doll that I used to push around everywhere, as if it were my own baby.
‘What about you, Albert? What’s your fondest memory of Marek?’
‘Like your aunt, he was very generous. The way he bought those snow globes for us on his school trip. Of course, I didn’t realise he took one back though. He could be naughty when he wanted to,’ Albert smiles.
At this, we all raise a giggle around the table, even though Zuzana doesn’t quite understand us.
‘But, I’ll never forget his face when he told me about Grace. He looked more alive than I’d ever seen him. He’d never found the one for him, and then, finally, when he didn’t expect it, he did, and look what happened.’
I stretch my hand out to touch Albert’s. ‘I’m so sorry for what happened,’ I say.
‘It’s nobody’s fault. I realise that now. For many years I felt bitter. It was the rock and the river that took him from us. Nobody was to blame. You see, I told you, he could be naughty sometimes. He had a mind of his own. He was determined to sell anything to get back to Grace, even the trout from the river.’
‘He sounds like a character, and we all know he was much loved,’ I say.
‘Yes, he was,’ says Albert.
‘And look what he did. Strangers from far away meeting because of Marek, all these years later,’ says Tomas.
‘It’s lovely, isn’t it,’ I say.
‘For sure. We’re all here together, and I wish I could thank Marek for this,’ says Tomas. He looks over at me and smiles as he says it. I smile back at him fondly. ‘Learning so much about my uncle and meeting Olivia has meant a lot to me,’ says Tomas to Albert and Zuzana.
‘That’s nice. You really mean that?’ I ask.
‘Of course. I mean, how else would I have got the bar ready for the party?’ teases Tomas.
Albert and Zuzana are smiling as they watch us.
‘I just can’t believe I have to leave. I know I extended my stay before, but now I really have to go home.’
‘What’s stopping you from staying on?’ asks Tomas.
‘Yes, what’s stopping you?’ asks Albert.
I couldn’t possibly stay here any longer. The idea is absurd.
‘I have a home in the UK. The mill takes a lot of work to run. The pipes will be frozen. I mean, there are the gardens and badgers, the birds… Who would feed the birds?’
It takes a lot of work, especially since I have to do everything myself. In some ways, it would be nice not to have to chop wood and, instead, have a home with proper central heating. But it is home for me, and the thought of selling up because I am enjoying a holiday a little too much would never happen. Once it’s gone, I can’t get it back. I belong in Wales. I’ll also have my inheritance when I return, and I need to decide what to do with the next chapter of my life. Sat here, I realise that I’m ready to start my life again, and this time around, I am not wasting a moment on worrying what people think of me.
‘Besides, I’d have nothing to do here. I’ve done all the tourist stuff now,’ I say.
‘I need some help at the bar,’ says Tomas.
‘Yes, he does need help,’ says Albert.
I look at the two of them, who have obviously been plotting together.
‘I would certainly need more persuading than that.’
‘Will this persuade you?’ says Albert, pouring more wine.
‘Hmm, you’re heading the right way,’ I joke.
Thankfully, everyone drops the subject when our meal arrives. We enjoy our Czech dinner with pork and potatoes, and it makes me think how much I will miss this glorious food. The more wine I drink, the more I want to stay in Prague. Do I really want to rattle around the mill on my own when I could be here with this lovely family? But, the truth is, Wales is home.
As I sip on the last of my wine, Tomas leans over to me.
‘I meant it. I’m so glad we met. I was just teasing you about needing your help to get the bar ready.’
‘I know.’
‘I’m going to miss you when you’ve left,’ says Tomas.
I don’t tell him that I am going to miss being with him more than I have ever missed anything in my life. Instead, I smile and pretend that I am fine about going home.
‘Let’s try not to think about it. We have a New Year’s Eve party to enjoy tomorrow first,’ I say.
I lean over to him and give him a hug, which feels like the most natural thing in the world. If only I could stay holding him like this forever.