Chapter 15
The rest of the evening passed very pleasantly with everyone discussing the wine in quite sensible terms. New parties arrived, settling at their tables and chattering excitedly over the tasting notes just as we had.
Occasionally people would wander off to look at the view again, which was changing with the early evening light.
The sky changed, dimming to a luscious grey velvet colour over the dark satin sea as the sun set, and then the lights of the houses in the little coastal villages began to twinkle.
I went to lean my warm arms on the cool steel rail of the glass barrier separating me from a plunge down onto the rocks below and took a deep breath of the sea-scented air. I wondered what the people in those houses were doing.
Perhaps some would be returning home from work, preparing an evening meal.
Playing with their children or maybe arguing with a partner.
Some would be laughing, crying, elated or despairing, and still life would go on.
In just a few days I would leave and return to my everyday life and there would be new people sitting here looking at that incredible coastline.
Just as people thousands of years ago had done.
‘You look very thoughtful,’ Will said behind me, and I blushed to think he had followed me. After such a long marriage when I had been largely ignored and then forgotten, it felt strange and yet rather exciting to realise that he wanted to seek me out.
I looked back over Homer’s ‘wine-dark sea’ and sighed with pleasure.
‘I’m just wondering what it was like all those years ago when the Minoans left forever.
And did people stand here hundreds of years ago and watch invading ships from Greece or Italy and wonder what on earth was happening?
Are there people in those houses who right now are taking their first breath or even their last?
It’s made me think about the future in a way I don’t think I have before. ’
He leaned his hands on the railing next to me and looked out at the sea.
‘And what conclusion did you come to?’
‘None really, except I shouldn’t be held back by the mistakes I’ve made.
Or more importantly by the actions of other people.
You know what it’s like when a marriage ends.
Was it him? Was it me? Could things have been different?
Well, now I think I’ve been wasting my time fretting and rehashing the past, but now it’s time to think about the future. ’
He nodded. ‘That’s a very good way of looking at it.’
‘I suppose I am beginning to realise that I can be in control of my life. As long as I don’t offend anyone or break any laws, I can do what I like.
In future I’m going to do really exciting, epic things.
Unless I get too tired, or it’s too expensive.
In which case I’m going to do more affordable, epic stuff, and make time for naps. ’
He laughed then, a proper loud laugh, which made a few people turn round to see what was going on.
‘Marvellous,’ he said at last. ‘You’re a tonic. Perhaps they should bottle your spirit and sell it here too.’
‘I think I would be a dry white,’ I said, ‘with fruity undertones and hints of irony and washing up liquid. Good with salads, fillet steak and chocolate digestives.’
‘I think you would.’ He chuckled. ‘In an elegant bottle with a beautiful label. A picture of the sea, a rocky coastline and one perfect seagull wheeling overhead.’
‘Not so sure about the seagull,’ I said, grinning. ‘You know what they’re like for stealing your chips or worse.’
‘Chateau Meg. Vin not ordinaire at all. I’d buy a case,’ he said, and he put one hand over mine.
‘Would you?’ I said, half laughing, half breathless with surprise.
‘I would,’ he said, ‘definitely.’
And he looked just for a moment at my mouth, and we all knew what that meant. He was thinking about kissing me. Properly this time.
All sorts of inappropriate, wine-linked thoughts went through my head. Screw-tops and tasting and lying down. Ageing well. Full bodied.
‘Homer said wine gives a man fresh strength,’ he said, ‘and I think you would be that sort of wine—’
How amazing, I was just thinking about Homer too.
‘You’ve certainly made such a difference to me, even in this short time.’
‘Gosh, have I?’ I said. ‘I thought the possibility of being an influencer was over.’
‘Not at all,’ he said, and he took his hand away.
And suddenly I missed the warmth of it, the feel of it. I hadn’t expected that at all.
‘Remember I said we should come back here for a proper meal one evening?’ he said. ‘What do you think?’
I swear my heart gave a little thrill of excitement. After an afternoon walking around a shopping mall, Malcolm had once claimed he had atrial fibrillation. I hoped it wasn’t that.
‘That would be really nice,’ I said at last.
Nice. What a weak word to use.
‘Good. Shall I go and book us a table?’
Wow, I was being consulted too. That made a change.
‘Yes, that’s a great idea.’
He went off towards the restaurant and I looked around for the signs to the ladies’ room.
It was downstairs underneath the building, spacious and absolutely spotless with delightful pictures of the island on the walls, light shades made out of wine glasses and some wonderful handwash that smelled of the sea breeze.
I looked at myself in the mirror over the sink as I washed my hands and somehow this time, I looked younger, more alive. Perhaps this place had better lighting than I was used to.
What a perfect evening this had been. And most unexpectedly, I had a date. What should I wear?
‘There you are,’ said a voice behind me, and Beryl, Effie and Anita barged in through the door, all trying to get in at once.
‘What have you been doing?’
‘What happened?’
‘What did he say?’
‘Tell us everything.’
I laughed. ‘Honestly, you lot, beak out of it!’
Beryl went to sit in a charming little armchair in one corner, her handbag on her lap.
‘We watched you going off and he followed you. And you were talking for ages. I wish I’d had one of my old listening devices in my handbag, I could have tuned it in. You must have said something.’
‘He suggested coming back here for dinner,’ I said, ‘one evening.’
‘Oooh,’ Anita cooed, ‘what a brilliant idea, that would be lovely. I took a look at their menu on my phone; it looks really impressive. I’ll choose the scallops to start with, then the smoked duck with plum sauce. And then the chocolate and pistachio souffle.’
‘Down, girl! We aren’t going too,’ Effie harrumphed. ‘This sounds like a proper date. Again.’
The three of them looked at me rather mistily for a moment, and I looked away and washed my hands again for something to do.
‘Stop looking at me like that,’ I said at last. ‘Honestly, it’s just dinner.’
‘Dinner with Doctor Bill,’ Anita sighed, her head on one side.
I sent her a meaningful look.
Effie looked confused. ‘Is he a doctor? I didn’t know that.
No wonder he was so good with Susan’s blister.
She said he had a proper first aid kit too.
Not just one of those daft ones from the chemist with a triangular bandage and too many cheap plasters that don’t stick properly.
Fancy that. Perhaps you could ask him about your knee, Beryl. ’
‘He’s on holiday and he’s retired,’ I said firmly.
‘Well, a knee is a knee, isn’t it?’ Beryl said.
‘Anyway, much more importantly, we have a three-line whip from Jillian for tomorrow and the still life class. I think perhaps as we have been so unruly, we should comply. It might cheer her up. She does seem a bit exasperated with us. What do you think?’
‘On the roof terrace at ten thirty,’ Effie said with a little salute. ‘Synchronise your watches, ladies. It will be a bowl of fruit I expect, or some of the bougainvillea.’
‘To hear is to obey,’ I said, returning the salute with a grin.
* * *
We got back to the hotel just before nine o’clock, and while the others wanted to go up to the rooftop terrace for a nightcap, I just wanted to go to my room and think. And investigate the clothes I had packed to come here. To try to find something suitable to wear.
And then I told myself to stop being foolish and went to have a cool shower before bed, as the evening had been rather warm. When I came back into my room, I saw someone had pushed an envelope with the hotel’s logo on the back, under my door.
I have booked a table for the day after tomorrow.
Six-thirty-ish for seven o’clock. I hope this suits you?
If not please tell me. I will arrange a taxi to take us there, leaving here just after six.
Again, if this doesn’t fit in with your plans for the day do let me know at the still-life class tomorrow morning. Kind regards, Will.
O.M.G.
I calmed myself down by sending Nicky a long email and some of the many photographs I had taken on my phone over the last couple of days.
I didn’t mention the forthcoming dinner date.
It wasn’t anything she needed to know about anyway.
As a teenager she had always been banging on about people respecting her privacy; well, now, rather surprisingly, it was my turn.
It was frustrating, though, not to be fifteen again, not able to sit on my bed with some giggling friends and discuss every word of his message, read into it things that probably weren’t there. To be young enough to be properly silly.
But then women of my age, who had been single for a while, were probably hard to impress.
I hadn’t thought for a moment about ever having another relationship after my divorce.
A man would have to be seriously remarkable to make me change my mind about that.
And most men I had encountered of my generation seemed to be a bit like Dennis.
Perfectly all right but set in their ways, a bit grumpy, firmly attached to someone, and there weren’t many of them in the first place.
And then there was the emotional baggage both of us would be dragging behind us.
Our families, our pasts, our suspicions and assumptions.
What would a man like Will bring into my life? What would I bring into his? There had to be some reason, surely? Did this step actually count as one of the epic things I had been planning, or was it, in the grand scheme of things, nothing?
I had a lot of thinking to do. And meanwhile, I needed to pick all my discarded clothes up and put them back in the wardrobe.