Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Suzie hoped that no one with a nosy bent was around to see her waiting on the dock opposite the café Christian had named as the meeting point.
As instructed, she had her bikini on under her clothes, and a waterproof swim bag complete with towel, suncream, hat and sarong, but he was already twenty minutes late.
Timekeeping had never been Christian’s forte.
She’d give him another ten minutes. She had better things to do with her day than wait around for him.
With one minute left to go, she heard a loud horn in the distance.
Christian was at the wheel of a classic Riva wooden speedboat which glided into the dock, cutting through the water like a knife through butter, to the obvious admiration of a couple of tourists.
Of course he was. She’d had visions of a day on a fishing tub, but this craft was all polished sleek lines and expensive style, à la Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor waving to adoring fans on the Italian Riviera.
He pulled the boat into the allotted space in front of her with ease and raised his peaked white captain’s cap as the boat’s nose kissed the dock. Navy blue swim shorts, a crisp white polo and the darkest of dark glasses completed his look.
‘Ahoy there!’
Christian had always thrown himself into anything he did, whether it was a stage performance or a trip to the shops.
Any chance to dress up and he was away. She’d forgotten quite what a drama queen he could be.
So much for keeping their outing low-key.
Everyone having coffee on the quay turned their heads in their direction.
The only plus point was that because he was wearing sunglasses and a hat, it was mainly the gorgeous boat that people were staring at rather than him.
Having secured the guy ropes, Christian stood at the bottom of the boarding plank, or ‘passerelle’, as she’d learnt to call it after watching too much Below Deck on television. He beckoned her on.
‘After you…’
‘You’re late. I was almost about to call it a day.’
‘Yes, sorry. The guy I hired it from wanted to tell me about every inch of the boat and its history. I couldn’t get away. I’m not sure he really wanted to let her out of his sight.’
Christian put out his hand to help her on.
‘She is a beauty though, isn’t she?’
Suzie couldn’t argue with that.
‘She certainly is. And I’m sure worth a fortune. Do you know what you’re doing?’
Christian pulled in the passerelle and indicated for her to take a seat.
‘How very dare you? I’ve had my captain’s licence for twenty years.’
There was so much about him she didn’t know. The years between then and now were more or less a blank. It was a strange thought that although they’d shared such intensely intimate moments together, and even created a baby, after all this time they were essentially strangers.
Suzie pulled her hat low over her face. She was determined to enjoy her precious few hours off from the bar. Christian expertly backed the craft out, waving to all and sundry as he turned into the harbour, and the noise of people eating, drinking and chatting receded into the distance.
Once they entered open sea, all Suzie could hear was the sound of the engine as she lay back against the generous leather seat. She had a bird’s-eye view of Christian’s broad back and toned legs as he gently turned the wheel this way and that, keeping them on course.
Every now and again, a burst of spray would come over the side, giving her a refreshing spritz of cold water on her face and arms. There was nowhere to hide, no wheelhouse or awning to duck under to escape the sun.
It was a boat made for summer days exactly like this one, and secretly she’d always wanted to travel in one, doing a Sophia Loren in a Hermès headscarf, not that she was going to tell him that.
It was impossible to talk while the boat was in motion anyway, which suited her perfectly.
A while later, she couldn’t say how long, as she’d closed her eyes for a moment, the boat slowed, and she opened them again to see a tiny beach in front of her.
The sight of a restaurant with just a few sky-blue, painted tables and chairs beneath striped umbrellas, laid out on the sand, jogged her memory.
She’d heard about this spot at the top of the island, and its reputation of serving simple but delicious fresh fish dishes, but she’d never been.
It was apparently an ordeal to even book a table; it was so in demand.
Christian had turned off the engine and stood above her, smiling.
‘Hello, sleepyhead.’
‘What do you mean? I’ve been awake all the time.’
He lifted his sunglasses to show his laughing eyes.
‘If you say so. We can’t go any further in than this because of the depth of the water. So … bring anything you need to keep with you, and I’d advise you to strip off to your bikini to wade in.’
Suzie saluted.
‘Stripping off immediately, captain. Do you ask that of all your passengers?’
Christian put on an affected American drawl.
‘Only the female ones, obviously.’
‘Amusing.’
Sudden shyness stopped her from carrying out the command in front of him. Although he’d seen it all before, that was many years ago, so many years ago it probably all looked very different.
‘Turn your back then.’
‘Oh, right.’
He did as he was told, and she stepped out of her shorts and T-shirt and wrapped the sarong tightly round her, covering the area between her chest and her knees before he could turn back.
‘Ready?’
She nodded and tried to look away as he pulled off his polo shirt. He’d got an all-over tan from somewhere, that was for sure. He was no pasty Brit. She’d read that he lived on the Cornish coast now, which would explain the healthy glow, and the farm obviously kept him fit.
‘We have to lower ourselves in off the side. Do you need a hand?’
‘Nope, I’m OK, thanks.’
The thought of his hands on her was oddly disconcerting. She pushed herself off the boat before he could get anywhere near her. The water was cold on her calves and thighs, but a welcome contrast to the heat on the boat.
Christian showed her to a table right at the front which had a big ‘reserved’ sign on it. There was nothing between them and the sea but a pristine stretch of sand. As soon as the waitress had put the menus down, Christian waved across the view in front of them.
‘This is nice, isn’t it?’
‘Very nice. It must be costing a bomb.’
‘Well, I am on holiday. And it’s rather pointless just splashing out on yourself. It takes all the fun out of it.’
There was the tiniest trace of sadness in his voice, which she found it hard to square with the man she’d watched on stage in Athens.
‘You must have loads of mates. And people desperate to go out with you.’
‘You’d be surprised. There are certainly plenty of people desperate to go out with me if I’m paying, my ex-wife included, but it’s not quite the same thing.’
Suzie stared out at the sea rather than directly at him.
‘Oh no, we’re not getting into “my wife doesn’t understand me” territory, are we?’
Christian gave what she could only describe as a chuckle.
‘My second wife understood me very well. But sadly, she was mainly in it for what she could get. She was way younger than me, and we had absolutely nothing in common. That one was totally on me. I was lonely, and she was beautiful – bad combination. Only lasted eighteen months, one very expensive mistake.’
The admission that he’d turned to this woman because he was lonely made Suzie pause in her reading of the menu. Lonely was one thing she’d not expected him to admit to.
‘And your first wife? Also a model, I think?’
‘Correct. Call me shallow, but I have to find someone attractive before I even make the first move.’
Suzie knew if she looked up, he’d be staring at her.
‘That is pretty shallow. It’s really not the same for women. Personality goes a long way. Most women don’t have to find someone attractive from the off.’
The waitress approached their table, and Christian put his hand on the menu.
‘Will you let me order their speciality, please? They only do it for two, and it’s something I’ve always wanted to try.’
He was like an eager ten-year-old spotting the latest craze online.
‘Fine, as long as it’s not fish eyeballs or something outlandish.’
‘I promise you’ll love it.’
‘How can you promise that if you’ve never tried it?’
‘Trust me.’
Where had she heard that before? And look where it had got her.
‘Is white wine OK for you? Maybe we should get a carafe? I’ll just have the one glass myself, being a responsible captain, and a big bottle of water.’
‘Sure.’
Responsible Christian had certainly not been out to play much in the early years. Mind you, neither had Responsible Suzie.
The waitress brought their drinks straight over with a basket of bread. Once she’d left, his eyes were on her again.
‘Do you ever feel lonely, Suze?’
As a conversation starter, it was unusual to say the least. Her first instinct was to deny it, but her mouth wasn’t behaving.
‘Yes, sometimes. Although I’m surrounded by people all day long, and I’ve got the boys nearby, they have their own lives now.
I know they love me, most of the time, but they don’t need me.
At other times it’s not exactly loneliness, it’s more like restlessness, wondering if this is it, or whether I should give up the bar and do something completely different. ’
She’d barely voiced these thoughts out loud to herself, let alone to anyone else.
‘Something different isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be. I have friends scattered across the world, but when you’ve spent a big chunk of your life on the road, the thought of flying thousands of miles to have dinner with someone and sleep in a strange bed isn’t quite so appealing.’
‘Ah, the problems of the world-weary traveller. My moments of doubt are more about being stuck in one place for the rest of my life.’
Christian leant in close, so close she could see the flecks of grey in his hair.