‘Uh, I don’t know about this…’ said Harri.
‘You must be Anjali,’ Annie hissed, breaking character for a second.
Harri jolted towards her. ‘You must be Anjali?’
Annie simpered a smile and nodded shyly.
‘That’s not how English girls act,’ he said, laughing.
‘The ones in books do.’
‘From a hundred years ago. Start over.’ He wasn’t quite so shy now he was smiling into Annie’s wickedly gleaming eyes.
‘Hi, I’m Anjali,’ she said, sticking out a hand.
He looked at it. ‘Bit formal, no?’
‘If she offers her hand, you shake it.’
Harri obeyed, taking hold of Annie’s hand. ‘I’m Harri Griffiths. It’s…’ He paused, searching for the right words, but finding his brain circuitry was having trouble making connections. It had everything to do with Annie clasping his hand the way she was. She was looking at him with curiosity, really playing her part, like they were strangers. ‘…so nice to meet you… uh… like this.’
‘You can offer to take my coat,’ she whispered. It took him a moment to register.
‘Oh! Uh, of course. Allow me…’ He’d moved behind her and was cupping her shoulders with his palms, peeling her coat from her. A wave of her perfume reached him. Almond milk, sunshine and summer. Time seemed to be running slowly.
He didn’t know he’d messed up until she turned, a strange look on her face. Was she still playing the part of Anjali? He couldn’t figure out what was going on.
‘You know, maybe she should take off her own coat?’ said Annie, finishing the job of removing it and putting it over the back of the chair.
Had she picked up on him being weird again? This was excruciating.
Whatever it was, it had awakened Harri from the faltering feelings that were interrupting his brain signals. ‘Right, sure, but… I’ll get your chair, right?’
‘Why, thank you!’ Annie had never sounded more Texan. They both smiled. Annie seated herself and Harri tried to shove her chair closer to the table, but it didn’t budge.
‘Why do we do this?’ said Annie. ‘Hoofing someone’s chair when they’re on it? It’s weird. Won’t she think it’s weird?’
‘Who? Oh, Anjali! Yeah, it is kind of a strange thing to do. It’s supposed to be gentlemanly.’ He hurried into his seat across the little table. He mimed picking up a menu and handed it to Annie. ‘You can choose the wine.’
‘What if I order the hundred bucks bottle of Champagne?’
‘Who saidIwas paying?’
‘Touché. I’ll have a lemonade.’ Annie was back in English girl mode and her body blazed with enjoyment.
Harri couldn’t help getting carried along. ‘May I say you look very pretty tonight?’
If she hesitated, it was only for the tiniest beat. ‘You may.’ She fanned herself with the invisible menu. ‘What are you looking for in a woman?’
‘Ooh!’ Harri drew back his jaw. ‘Bit direct!’
‘Dates have to be direct. Pussy-footin’ around gets you nowhere.’
‘Oh, okay.’ He thought for a bit, and Annie kept her eyes laser-focused on his. She was having fun. So was he. ‘Let’s see. Umm. She’d have to read, and like food. I’m a big foodie. And uh, I uh…’ He felt himself getting coy. ‘I like snuggling, I suppose.’
‘Snuggling,’ Annie echoed in his accent. ‘You’re too cute.’
They were beaming now. ‘And I want someone I can just be myself with,’ he continued. ‘Someone who’ll drink their morning coffee with me, and tell me about their day at night, and someone I can justbewith.’
