Chapter Thirty-Four
Thirty-Four
I’d written back to Henrik to accept his date but had no idea if he’d received my letter. How had people ever got together in the eighties – or ever, in fact – before technology existed? I suppose you just had to marry your neighbour in those days and that was that.
I was completely out of my comfort zone as I walked into the restaurant at The Soho Hotel and anxiously scanned the crowd.
Even though I knew Henrik, it still somehow felt like I was on a blind date.
The bar was packed with beautiful people supping cold beers and cocktails and singing along to ‘Pink Pony Club’, but I couldn’t see Henrik anywhere.
Was I in the wrong place? Was there another Soho Hotel?
Had he changed his mind? Was I too late? Too early?
‘Are you joining us for dinner?’ A lady in a smart cream suit interrupted my spiralling thoughts as I hovered by the door.
‘Hi!’ I said, wide-eyed. ‘Er… yes. At least, I think I am. Nilsen at eight o’clock?’
She scanned her iPad to check, as I felt his arms around my waist.
‘Hi,’ Henrik breathed into my ear, spinning me round.
I was completely stunned. ‘Are you really here?’
He kissed me gently on the lips. ‘Looks like it, doesn’t it?’ he said with a cheeky smile. His hair was loose and lion-like as he towered above me, sexy and stylish in faded cords and a well-cut suit jacket. He looked like a rock star.
‘If you’d like to follow me.’ The ma?tre d’ took us to a candlelit table in the corner, away from the noise at the bar.
It was decorated with tiny pumpkins and beautifully laid with black and white plates and fresh flowers.
‘We have a special Halloween menu tonight, or you can stick to the ala carte,’ she said, handing us menus. ‘Can I get you some drinks?’
‘Shall we start with a glass of champagne?’ Henrik asked.
I smiled and nodded. ‘Another special occasion so soon?’
‘Yes,’ he said, giving me one of his slow smiles.
The lady left us to it as his feet scooped mine up under the table.
‘Well, this is a nice surprise,’ I said. ‘Having you all to myself in London town.’
‘You forget I was once an international jet setter. I have no issue with hopping on a plane and I’m a big fan of London, in small doses.
I used to stay here a lot in my past life.
’ He poured us both some water and an Omega watch peeped out from under his sleeve, reminders of his past life suddenly everywhere.
‘I’m worried you’re a mirage.’ He grabbed my hand under the table, tangible proof that he was real.
‘How has it been being back?’ he asked, staring at me in wonder.
‘Noisy,’ I said, as the singing at the bar reached a crescendo. ‘I found the silence stifling when I first arrived at Firefly and now I crave it.’
‘I’ll record the meditations for you if you like. Then you can close your eyes and pretend you’re back in the Sun Hut.’
‘Sure,’ I snorted. ‘And then I’ll lie underwater in the bath with a fish and pretend I’m in the Maldives.’
He laughed. ‘It might work! It’s good for the nervous system to immerse yourself in calm, however you choose to do it.’
‘True. Your meditations were working like a charm at Firefly, so it’s worth a shot. You could record them straight into my phone.’ I liked the idea of his throaty voice lulling me to sleep each night. Deep and sexy.
‘Sure. I’ll do it for you tonight. Meditation and spending time in nature are both good habits to cultivate. Even if you got nothing else out of the retreat.’
‘Oh, I got plenty out of it. I can light a fire with my eyes closed, for a start.’
Henrik laughed. ‘I’m pretty sure our insurance doesn’t cover that.’
The champagne arrived and the waitress took our order.
‘I’ve missed you,’ Henrik said, holding his glass up and clinking mine.
I couldn’t stop smiling. ‘It’s going to take me a minute to get over the shock of you being here.’
‘Take your time – we’ve got all night,’ he replied.
‘And tomorrow morning,’ I said, taking a sip of my champagne.
‘It’s nice to just concentrate on us. Even being able to look at you without a roomful of people sat watching us is a new experience. Cheers, Sara! Here’s to lighting many, many fires.’
I clinked my glass with his and couldn’t stop a goofy smile spreading across my face. ‘I’m supposed to be back at work next week, but I’ve had some weird news,’ I said, thinking back to the call I’d had with Cheryl. ‘They are making redundancies and I’ve been offered a package to consider.’
‘Is that good news or bad?’ Henrik asked, concerned.
‘Interesting question. It was a shock at first, but the offer is generous, and I’ve been there a long time. More than long enough. Maybe it’s a sign to move on.’
‘Would you do something different? Or work as a lawyer for someone else?’
‘I’ve worked too hard to become a lawyer to change career completely. Oliver is planning to open a satellite office in London, so I rang him last week to ask what the situation was with that.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He’s sent me through his business plan and we’re having a chat on Tuesday, so there might be something interesting there. How about you? How are things at Firefly Forest?’
‘Same old, same old. Except for the first time in years, I’m feeling lonely out there. The tech not working has been a nightmare. Not being able to contact you has been driving me mad. It’s made me realise I’ve been hiding out there for too long. Hiding away from getting on with my life.’
Our food arrived and Henrik tucked into chunky halloumi fries with salsa, while I had a spicy tomato soup with a balsamic spider’s web.
We chattered away non-stop, laughing and gossiping and swapping life stories, and before we knew it, eyeball truffles were being served with coffee, and I was willing the clock to turn back.
It got to eleven and I’d been eking out my coffee for half an hour, while Henrik stroked the inside of my wrist. It was probably time to say goodnight and go home, but I didn’t want the night to end.
‘Do you want to go to a club?’ I asked.
Henrik looked horrified. ‘Not after all that ghoul-ash and bump-lings. I’d rather have a nightcap and record your meditation.’
‘Oh. OK, well that sounds good too,’ I said, grinning from ear to ear.
‘We need somewhere quiet to do it,’ he said. ‘My room has a small lounge area?’
I nodded. ‘Makes sense to be somewhere private,’ I said. ‘For the sound quality.’
‘Exactly. What’s your poison?’
‘Brandy please.’
Henrik ordered two brandies and signed for the bill, then we walked through the hotel, which was like an art gallery. As soon as the lift doors closed I jumped on him. We kissed frantically for the few seconds of alone time we had and I couldn’t have been happier to be back in his arms.
We chased each other down the corridor, holding our drinks out to balance them like an egg and spoon race.
His room was beautiful, with high ceilings and sash windows, heavy velvet blackout curtains and a plush pink carpet.
The headboard took up half the wall and looked like its own art installation, with soft flowery blankets over cotton sheets.
Shiny copies of Vogue and Wallpaper magazine sat on the table in the lounge area, next to a rolled-up Big Issue, and there was a Nespresso machine next to the bed.
‘Wow, this is alright, isn’t it?’ I said, slipping off my heels and taking a seat in one of the leather armchairs.
‘They upgraded me – they must have liked my face.’ He took a sip of his brandy and switched on the radio.
‘I like your face too,’ I said, picking up the Big Issue and flicking through it. ‘Was this in your room? How cool to see hotels buying copies and getting them into the hands of the hoi polloi.’
‘Sadly not – I bought it from a guy outside the tube.’
I rolled my eyes, disappointed. ‘I thought it was too good to be true. So how do we do this, then? Do you need to do some mouth exercises? Or gargle with vinegar to prepare?’
‘Vinegar? For what?’
He looked so confused; I couldn’t help but giggle.
‘Recording the meditations.’
‘Oh, that. I thought you were about to put me through some kind of cleansing ritual. How about we do the meditations in the morning,’ he said, kissing me again and taking the magazine. ‘I’m not sure you’ll want to kiss me with vinegar breath.’
Frank Sinatra started crooning on the radio and Henrik offered me his hand to dance.
‘Tomorrow morning, before you go back to Bergen?’
‘Yep. Back to Firefly tomorrow. Which reminds me – I haven’t had your official RSVP to the wedding.’
‘Well, Jonas and Greta have, and my nymph outfit is already cleaned, steamed and hanging in the wardrobe,’ I replied, snuggling into him.