‘It’s fine. They use the house like a hotel anyhow. They’re always having someone stay over. I can put you in the spare room if you prefer.’
‘Yeah, I think that might be best.’
‘Right, it’s a deal then. I’ll take you to my favourite restaurant in Cheadle.’
I memorise the name of Cheadle and am content that I will finally see where Elias lives, who his friends are, and learn so much more about my gorgeous Mancunian.
‘Okay, but that means I have to take you to my favourite restaurant in Swansea this evening. Deal?’
‘Sounds good to me, but first…’
Elias draws me to him, and we forget all about food for a while.
When we do finally walk up to the front of the restaurant, Elias tries to pronounce the very Welsh name. I laugh and tell him that I was born here and even I can’t pronounce it. Looking at this place, you would think it was somewhere serving hearty Welsh grub. I can’t wait until Elias realises what is on the menu.
The staff are attentive, and Elias is impressed with the service, but he still has no idea what is to come. Our little wooden table, decorated with freshly picked tulips, is tucked away in a corner near the window. Elias insists I have the pretty view of the restaurant gardens outside as he pulls his chair around to face me.
‘So, what do you usually have here? Any recommendations?’ he asks as we wait for the menu.
‘Chips?’ I tease.
‘Sounds good. I’ll have whatever you suggest.’
When the waitress brings over the menu in Welsh, English and French, Elias gives me a big smirk.
‘Moules marinière, soupe a` l’oignon, canard?’
‘I thought we should get used to the cuisine… Just in case we do decide to run off to France.’
‘I love it! Who’d have thought this Welsh restaurant would have such a fabulous French menu?’
‘It’s a hidden treasure.’
‘Just like you. Where have you been hiding all this time?’ says Elias.
‘Ha. In my apartment watching the latest TV dramas, probably, instead of living my life.’
‘Well, I hope that’ll all change now.’
‘So do I.’
Elias looks across the table at me with that irresistible smile of his, and I can’t help grinning. This man makes me feel so incredibly happy. When ourmoulesarrive, it is just like being back in Monaco and all the happy memories flood back.
We wash themoulesdown with a bottle of French white wine, and when we walk back to the marina, Elias takes my hand.
‘What is it between us, hey? Sometimes you just connect with someone. It’s like I knew you in a past life.’
‘Well, I don’t really go for that sort of thing, I’m not even superstitious.’ I quickly let go of his hand and run under some scaffolding we pass to prove my point.
‘You see? I don’t believe in anything we can’t explain. But I definitely can’t deny we have a huge connection.’
Elias takes my hand again and kisses it as goosebumps enshrine my entire body. I have never met anyone who makes me feel like he does, and if I wasn’t so sensible, I’d think he had put some sort of spell on me.
When we get back to the apartment, we kiss from the moment we walk through the door, then stumble over the corner of the sofa and into the doorframe of the bedroom as we are so desperate for each other. We tumble onto the bed, and I am engulfed with happiness as Elias pulls me to him and we make love.
We spend two wonderful days together without leaving the apartment, and I have never been so happy to stay confined in this small flat, chatting about our childhood memories, our family and how fond we are of each other so quickly. But when Elias has to leave to head back to Manchester, it becomes so hard to say goodbye. The last time he left was in very different circumstances. Having that miscommunication has brought us so much closer. Don’t they say making up is the best bit? The past few days have certainly been pretty amazing.
If I could get past the barrier at the train station, it would probably be like a scene fromBrief Encounteras I wave at Elias until his train is out of sight. However, this is modern-day Swansea, and I can’t get past the barrier, or the station guard, who is standing at the turnstile making sure nobody is dodging the price of a ticket.
