Chapter 34
Tomas leant against the counter, chatting away in relaxed but rapid French to the barman as I took a seat at a small table near the door.
I watched from the corner of my eye. Bloody hell, he was gorgeous.
I knew from Gabs that her brother was insistent upon regular exercise.
They disagreed as to whether he took it to the extent of obsession.
She on the side of yes, he the opposite, professing it was his way of managing stress.
Gabby, of course, wrinkled her nose at the idea of such a thing as organised exercise and maintained her trim figure by the magic of being a Frenchwoman.
Also by managing to refuse returning to the bread plate too often.
Like many Europeans, she walked a lot, rather than drove.
In a city like Paris, and London for that matter, it was so easy and often far quicker to walk.
Like others, at home, I’d fallen into the habit of driving everywhere and it was only now, without a car or the inclination to join the city traffic, that I realised how much I’d missed the walks.
When Sasha was little, I’d take her for long walks in the old-fashioned Silver Cross pram that we’d bought for a song from the local ad paper because nobody wanted ones like that any more.
But I’d loved it and we’d loved the price even more.
The sprung carriage would bounce over bumps and Sasha would gurgle happily before eventually nodding off with the gentle motion.
I smiled at the memory as my eyes drifted back to the handsome man now approaching me.
What would life have brought if I’d taken the other set of sliding doors?
Would I have similar precious memories? Would it have been worse or better?
There was no way to answer that. It would have been different.
And now it didn’t matter. We were here, today.
And I wouldn’t swap that memory for anything.
He smiled and I felt like melting.
Good God, woman. Pull yourself together. You’re too old to melt! My sensible self brought me back to reality.
Tomas took the seat beside me, lifted my hand from the table and kissed the back of it. I melted a little bit more. Sensible Me opened my mouth. Joyful new Inner Me gave her a shove.
Bugger off and leave her alone! She’s happy!
Sensible Me gave a sniff and stalked off to a corner.
‘What was that for?’ I asked, smiling at him purely because I couldn’t help it.
He shrugged as the coffees arrived. ‘You.’
‘Well, thank you.’
‘You looked miles away earlier.’
‘Did I?’
‘Yes. But happy.’
‘I was thinking about how much more I walk now, and how the last time I used to do that was when I would take Sash out in her pram for long walks to escape the four walls.’
‘It made you feel better?’
‘It did,’ I agreed. ‘There’s so much information now about how getting out for a walk is good for you, but there was none of that back then. I wish there had been.’
‘But you figured it out for yourself. Like you always did.’
I took a sip of coffee. Hot, black and pleasantly bitter. The milky coffees I’d drifted into drinking over the years were once more a thing of the past. At home, it had seemed pretentious. Or at least I’d been led to believe.
‘You’re not in Paris now!’ my mother had only half-joked when I’d asked for one shortly after I got back.
Hugh had made a similar comment. His had been meant as a joke but it had still hit a nerve.
I didn’t want to be reminded that I wasn’t there any more.
I didn’t want to be there either but my emotions were still raw and confused and it had seemed easier to avoid the triggers – even one as apparently insignificant as coffee.
But now I was here and drinking the strong, black nectar.
I also knew that, whatever happened, now I always would.
‘I suppose I did.’ I nodded my head towards the barman. ‘Old friend?’
‘I’ve been coming here for so long and Louis has been here all that time. I order my coffee, we moan about the world, discuss which part of us aches today, despair of the younger generation and then I take my coffee and we both get on with our day, feeling the better for it.’
‘You make yourself sound about a hundred.’
‘Sometimes, I feel it!’ He laughed as he set his cup back in the saucer.
‘Well, you don’t look it.’
‘Only ninety-nine, eh?’
I wiggled my head from side to side. ‘Perhaps ninety-seven. On a good day.’
His bark of laughter made me smile.
‘You always were a harsh critic.’
‘Pah! I was no such thing.’
He shook his head. ‘I disagree.’
‘Which is your prerogative. But you’re still wrong.’
He laughed again. ‘God, I missed you.’
I looked up and the gaze I’d always found so hypnotic fixed on me now.
‘I find that hard to believe.’ I wagged my finger at him in fun.
‘Don’t forget I know your sister and we’ve caught up on a lot of gossip since I’ve been here.
I know all about you living the high life as the eligible bachelor.
’ There was no judgement in my words. We’d gone our separate ways and made the best of them.
He pulled a face. ‘I can’t disagree. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you. Because I did.’
‘I’m not one of your dolly birds who’s going to fawn over you and agree with everything you say. Absence and time might have made you forget certain things.’
He shook his head, laughing. ‘Believe me. I don’t expect that. I’d be disappointed if you did and if it was the case, you certainly wouldn’t be the Kitty I remember. And,’ his tone turned from laughing to sincere, ‘I promise, I haven’t forgotten a thing.’
‘Good,’ I said. ‘Just so that we know where we stand.’
‘We do.’
I flashed him a grin which he returned and I felt the teenage squish in my stomach again. For goodness’ sake! This isn’t supposed to happen at my age.
But why isn’t it? Stop putting an age limit on things and just bloody well enjoy it, woman!
‘How was your day with Reine yesterday?’
‘Amazing, as always. She’s such an interesting and caring lady.’
I chose the noun ‘lady’ purposefully. Reine lived up to the meaning of her name – Queen – each and every time I met her.
‘I agree. I’m very fortunate she showed an interest in my paintings so long ago when I had no clue what I was doing. If it hadn’t been for her encouragement, I’m not sure I would have continued.’
‘Really?’
‘Really,’ he agreed. ‘I mean, she bought some truly terrible artwork in the beginning!’ Laughter danced in his eyes.
‘I’m sure that’s only what you think now, looking back.’
‘Oh, no. She agrees!’
Laughter wound through my words. ‘She does not!’
‘She does!’ Tomas insisted. ‘Last time I visited her, she was making cocktails and I was looking at a painting on the wall. A very early one. She came to stand beside me and we were both studying it in silence for a moment, then Reine said, “It really is a bit shit, isn’t it, darling?”’
‘She didn’t!’
‘True story,’ he replied with a grin. ‘And she was right.’
The day was warm and I shuffled my chair a little so that I could catch the breeze coming through the door.
‘Are you OK?’
‘Yes, just getting some air.’
‘Do you want to move? We could—’
‘Tomas, I’m fine. Stop fussing.’
Hugh had been very kind but definitely not a fusser.
Tomas tilted his head to the side. ‘I’m too old to change. Get used to it.’
And in that moment, as our eyes met, my mind spun back through time and I remembered how Tomas had indeed always been, not a fusser, but very attentive. And I’d loved it.
‘I’d forgotten,’ I replied.
‘I haven’t.’