Chapter 6
Chapter Six
F elipe would far rather have taken Rebecca on a tour of the gardens last night, but the nagging guilt at the work piling up on his desk had forced him to forgo what he was sure would have been a far more pleasurable experience.
At least now, after working until one this morning, he’d cleared the decks and could enjoy the evening off, taking Rebecca out to dinner in the nearby small town of Olhos De água.
‘Here we are,’ he said as they came to a stop outside the small white building just off the main road, with whitewashed walls and tiled floors and a lovely courtyard area with stone floors.
He’d been coming to Calheiros for many years– it was a family favourite– and for that reason, he was keen for Rebecca to experience it.
She’d clearly been a hit with Ana, Katerina and Cristina, and coming here was something she could share with them later.
‘Inside or out?’ asked Felipe.
‘Outside,’ said Rebecca and he laughed at her immediate response.
‘I love being able to be outside all the time,’ she explained. ‘It’s something I hadn’t thought about before I came here, but I want to make the most of it.’
Lorenzo, the waiter he’d known forever, greeted them.
‘Hey, Felipe, how’re you doing?’
‘Good, thanks, Lorenzo. You? And how’s the family?’
They exchanged quick small talk before he led them to atable on the patio at the front of the restaurant. Within minutes he’d brought the typical starter, which included a couple of small dishes of marinated carrots and olives, a basket of bread and tiny pots of sardine paté.
Felipe, who knew the dishes inside out, spent most of the time amused by the subtle array of expressions that crossed Rebecca’s face as she perused her menu. Dismay, intrigue, horror, confusion. It was such a contrast to her usual confident, competitive approach.
‘Do you need some help?’
‘No, I’m just not sure what to have. What do you recommend?’
‘How about the monkfish and shrimp kebab? It’s very good.’
She wrinkled her nose. ‘I’m not that good with fish, although I love shellfish.’
‘Okay, the steak with pepper sauce.’
‘Do you think I could have it without the pepper sauce?’ asked Rebecca. ‘In case I don’t like it. Shame to spoil good steak.’
He had to give her credit for honesty. She knew what she liked, but he found it intriguing that for all her bravery in other areas– she’d moved to a new country to start a new job– that bravery didn’t translate into other parts of her life.
‘How about you order the steak and we ask for the sauce on the side so you can try it?’
She tipped her head to one side. ‘Good thinking.’
‘I am a very good thinker,’ he agreed and she laughed.
Rebecca looked up at the sign outside the restaurant. ‘Calheiros. Is that right?’
‘Excellent pronunciation.’
‘Do you come here often?’
‘We used to come on Sunday evenings when Pai was alive, with my uncle, my aunt, my sisters and cousins. There would be ten of us and we’d have a long table’—he pointed to the other side of the restaurant—‘in there. Dahlia, the owner, was a good friend of my parents, so we’d stay all evening, along with other locals. There was always a great atmosphere.’
‘That’s something I’ve noticed. Families eat together quite late.’
‘Yes, Portuguese restaurants welcome the whole family. No one minds little children here. And it’s quite usual not to go out to eat until eight o’clock.’
When their meals arrived– her perfectly cooked steak with sauce on the side and his long skewer dotted with huge, plump pink prawns, shrimp and meaty chunks of white fish– she gave his a curious study.
‘Looks interesting.’
‘Want to try some?’ he asked.
‘I couldn’t steal a whole prawn, that would be mean,’ she said.
‘You’re nicer than my cousins. Cristina wouldn’t have any qualms.’ That was something he’d noticed about her: she looked out for other people. It was refreshing, especially when he spent so much of his time looking out for others too.
‘Try some fish.’ He scooped up a piece of the monkfish and offered it to her.
She giggled. ‘You’re not trying that sexy food thing, are you?’
‘Would it work?’
With a laugh she shook her head. ‘Not when I have no idea whether I might spit it out at you.’
With obvious caution, she took the forkful of food and he watched her, unaccountably pleased by her careful consideration and the sudden pop of her eyes.
‘I like it! That’s gorgeous.’
‘Told you.’
‘No, you didn’t.’
‘I intimated.’
‘Hmph,’ she agreed begrudgingly, not ready to concede. ‘Now, Mr Food Expert, I guess I’m going to have to try this pepper sauce.’
‘I guess you are.’
She cut a piece of steak and held the fork above the little sauceboat. ‘Here we go.’
With great ceremony, she dipped the meat into the sauce and then lifted it to her nose.
‘Smells… okay. Nice aroma.’ She grinned at him.
He propped his elbows on the table, amused by her willingness to address her fears.
‘Oh wow. Wow. Wow. That is… amazing. I love it.’ Without further ado, she picked up the sauceboat and poured the glossy sauce all over her steak.
He loved that she wasn’t too proud to admit to having been wrong.
‘Where has this been all my life?’
‘I’m proud of you,’ said Felipe. ‘What do you think of the wine?’
‘It’s white,’ said Rebecca, taking a sip and giving him a cheeky smile.
‘Very good.’
‘And it tastes nice.’
‘It’s from the Alentejo region, in the mid-east of Portugal.’
‘Right. I’ll remember that,’ she said with an earnest nod, as if she were tucking the information away like a squirrel with a choice nut. ‘And is it okay that I eat with you all every night? I’m not intruding, am I?’
‘Absolutely not. While you’re working at the hotel, you’re one of the family. M?e loves to look after people. She gathers her chicks to her.’
‘Yes, but in that case I feel like I ought to join and help but she shoos me away and your cousins pitch in…’
‘Don’t worry about it. Besides, it’s good for Cristina and Katerina to do some work,’ said Felipe. ‘They are part of the family.’
‘Mmm,’ said Rebecca. ‘And you wouldn’t want your delicate hands to get dirty, would you?’
He shot her an amused glance. ‘Absolutely not. I have more important things to do. Like taking you out to dinner and showing you around.’
‘It must be tough being the only man among all these women,’ she teased. ‘With them all waiting on you, hand and foot.’
‘It’s something I have to bear,’ said Felipe with one of his cheerful smiles. ‘But I manage.’
‘Hmm, sure you do,’ said Rebecca. He could sense her disapproval but he wasn’t about to talk about things that were personal to the family.
They stuck together. That’s how they’d managed to survive the last ten years.
His cousins might bicker and complain but they were family and he’d do anything for them, and for his mother and sisters.
Besides, the girls pulled their weight when he needed them to.
It wasn’t so much the physical burden of running the hotel that weighed heavily on him, but the mental toll.
Of always being in charge, always making all the decisions, of always having to be the strong one, the decisive one, the one to take action.
And listen to him. He was lucky. He had family and a thriving business, envied by many in the area.
It had taken them a long time to achieve the current balance of profitability and popularity.
They had money in the bank but that hadn’t always been the case.
There was a time when the girls were tiny, when they could have lost everything.
He hid the shudder and pushed away the fear. Everything was good now.
After dinner, he led her down the steep hill, known to the locals as Heart-attack Hill, and down to the promenade along the beach where there were lots of little bars and restaurants all doing a roaring trade with the tourists.
‘This is so pretty,’ Rebecca said. ‘I love the statues.’
‘Our Olhos ladies,’ said Felipe, patting one of the life-size, elegant steel hollow statues of a young woman. ‘They’re made by the sculptor Carlos de Oliveira Correia.’
‘They’re so striking.’
‘We’re very proud of them. There’s a new one up on the viewpoint. Come on, I’ll show you.’
He led her along the path to the end of the promenade, past busy bars spilling over with people laughing and chatting in the evening warmth.
They climbed the wooden steps that wound up to the deep-red clay cliffs until they came to the viewpoint.
They had it to themselves, apart from the statue gazing out over the Atlantic.
The sun was starting to dip, spreading pinky golden stripes across the sky and sending amber light dancing on the sea.
‘What a view,’ said Rebecca. To their left, Falésia beach curved away, bounded by the colourful cliffs sprinkled with the twisted pines bent by the wind, all the way down to the distant outlines of the tall buildings in Vilamoura and beyond to Quarteira. It was a view he’d never tire of.
They sank onto one of the wooden benches.
There was a brisk breeze which tossed Rebecca’s ponytail, and he reached for a loose tendril that had escaped, tucking it behind her ear.
Sitting in silence, he observed her quiet, thoughtful profile and guessed she was miles away.
Hershoulders drooped slightly, and he scooted closer, wanting to offer her comfort.
‘So, this man…’ He turned to Rebecca and saw her shoulders stiffen.
‘How did you know I was thinking about him?’
‘Lucky guess.’ It wasn’t that lucky. He remembered when she’d first mentioned him on the beach, the same defeated body language.
‘You’re in love with him?’
‘Yes,’ said Rebecca with a sigh, still looking out to sea, avoiding his gaze.
‘What’s wrong with him?’
‘What?’ Rebecca swung around to face him. ‘There’s nothing wrong with him,’ she retorted.
‘So why doesn’t he know you exist?’
‘He does know I exist, but he just sees me as a friend.’
‘And you want to be more. Friends are good.’