‘But only if that’s okay with you,’ he added.
I liked that; it showed me that perhaps he too was unfamiliar with this sort of situation, that he didn’t assume he had the upper hand. That if we saw each other again it would be a joint decision.
We came out of a narrow lane into a beautiful open square where a fountain splashed in the sunshine, and I turned to him.
‘I’d like that very much,’ I said, and he put his arm around my shoulders and gave me a little hug.
And I couldn’t help myself; my heart soared and for a moment we just stood and looked at each other.
And I wanted to say something funny or memorable, but I couldn’t think of anything.
Wow.
* * *
We had lunch together after being monumentally indecisive about which restaurant to visit, until eventually I flipped a coin and we chose a place in the shade of a tower where there were some tables and chairs set out under a red canopy.
We shared a sandwich and drank iced water and talked some more. Things about both of us, our lives and our plans. And it was lovely, both to listen and be listened to.
I wasn’t just the flotsam of a failed marriage, an ex-wife, a mother, someone’s work colleague or friend. I was also me in my own right. With ideas and preferences of my own which were just as valuable as anyone else’s. And that made a change. For a moment I could almost imagine I was sitting up a little straighter, walking a little taller than I had.
Perhaps the way people always seemed to want more from life wasn’t necessarily the way to live. A bigger television, a newer car, outward signs of success. After all, I had a home, my health, people who liked me and would miss me if I wasn’t there. My life would probably never be perfect, but did it need to be? Could I be content with small kindnesses and not look for grand gestures? Could I be comfortable within myself?
At last he looked at his watch.
‘I’m afraid we have played truant for long enough. If we are going to go on the last tour we need to go back to the boat and meet up with the group who have signed up for the wine tasting.’
‘I’m looking forward to it,’ I said, and I pulled out some euros from my bag to pay the bill, because by my reckoning, it was my turn.
And then we walked back along the harbourside where the sea was still the same ridiculous blue and the sun was bright in a clear sky, and I felt happier than I had for a very long time.
‘There you are at last,’ Evelyn said as we appeared round the last corner. ‘We were beginning to wonder. There is a short bus ride to the wine place; we have to walk over there to the car park. Bernardo is here to take us there. No sign of Anjelica; we came back early to see if she was driving holes into the side of the boat. Perhaps she has gone off to calm down?’
‘Let’s hope so,’ I said.
Bernardo clapped his hands for our attention.
‘We go now to the winery. Very fine indeed. Best of all wines. And a simple place which is good. I am very simple too, so I know about these things. We will leave momentarily.’
* * *
The wine tasting was in another small town with even narrower alleyways including one which was pointed out to us as the narrowest street in the world. I didn’t know if it was true or not but it certainly made us wonder once again how furniture or delivery men managed in such a place.
Eventually, we left the coach and our driver at the bottom of a hill, where he promptly got out a newspaper and his cigarettes. Bernardo led us up through a maze of little streets and showed us through a tiny door into a surprisingly large stone-lined room where there were benches and tables set out with platters of finger food and several wine glasses. The far wall was filled floor to ceiling with wine racks and bottles, all of which were very dusty.
I might not have known much about wine but that was exciting. It spoke of years of work and probably a thousand times more knowledge than I had. I was prepared to be impressed. Apart from anything else, the very air in the place was scented with wine and old, slightly damp stone, which also reinforced my opinion that we were in safe hands and going to have a great time.
I squeezed into one of the benches between Jack and Harriet, with Craig and, rather surprisingly, Dawn opposite us. Considering she had spent the entire trip commenting on how people drank too much and she preferred the refreshing bottled water on the boat, I did wonder why she had come along.
‘I leave you with my very simple friend, Tomislav,’ Bernardo said with a cheerful grin.
A charming, rather rotund man came forward and started to deposit bottles on our tables. A lot of bottles with three different labels.
‘Welcome to you all. All wines from local vineyards,’ Tomislav said with an encouraging smile, and then he waved his hands at us. ‘Please to be helping yourselves.’
We didn’t need asking twice.
‘Žlahtina is a lovely local white wine. It has scents of apple and citrus. And I think it goes with everything. The one with the dark grey label is Zaberdi, which is my wife’s favourite. It’s red but not too heavy. And the last one is Novi Poret, which is a sweet red wine, just like communion wine. Taste and find out what you think. Enjoy the food. And then we have a surprise for you afterwards.’ Tomislav beamed with pleasure and went off behind the counter to sort out some other bottles.
