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‘I’ve been busy with the exhibition.’ Freya walked out of the toilets, Jolene following close behind.
‘Oh, really,’ commented Jolene to her back. ‘Busy with Tarek, don’t you mean?’
Freya whirled around to face her before they both stepped inside the gallery. Were they back to that again? She repeated, through clenched teeth, ‘We work together.’
‘And play together.’
‘Pardon me?’
‘I overheard Tarek talking about the things you two have been doing in Cambridge.’
‘Yeah – so I’m showing him the sights – what’s your problem?’
‘My problem?’ Jolene cocked her head to one side. ‘I haven’t got a problem, Freya. I think you’re the one with the problem.’
‘Oh yeah – do tell,’ said Freya sarcastically, ‘what do you think my problem is?’
Jolene lowered her voice and whispered. ‘You’re falling for him.’ She took one look at Freya’s expression, and said, ‘Crap, youhavefallen for him. It’s not going to end well, Freya. Does he know you’re engaged?’
Freya clamped her mouth shut. She was going to tell her all about the previous day and the place Tarek had taken her to. She’d really enjoyed lunch with Tarek at the Michaelhouse Café – it was such a surprise, having lived in Cambridge all her life, she didn’t know it existed although she guessed that she must have walked past St Michael’s a hundred times and never realised it was there.
Freya recalled telling Tarek she had a surprise for him – she was taking him to a peaceful place for lunch not far from the hustle and bustle of the city centre, and this time it was her treat. Freya avoided Jolene’s gaze. She opened the door to the gallery. ‘I’ve got a lot to do before lunch.’
‘Lunch with Tarek – again?’
As the week drew to a close, Freya had something special planned. She avoided eye contact, refusing to answer the question. Instead she walked into the gallery, straight up to Tarek, who was organising a display case. ‘Now, where were we?’
It was a bright but cold afternoon and, having worked tirelessly on the exhibition for most of the morning, Freya was looking forward to a brisk walk and a stop for lunch at the Botanic Gardens. The beautiful landscaped gardens were now a public park. She’d listened to Tarek telling her all about Alexandria and the stunning gardens around the Montazah Palace, which had once been the grounds of a royal palace and hunting lodge. She was eager to show him what Cambridge had to offer.
Freya turned at the sound of footsteps behind her and spotted Tarek walking through the exit. Freya smiled when she thought about how well things had turned out, working with Tarek. They had agreed on many aspects of the setting-up of the exhibition – the labelling and presentation of the artefacts – and it was all turning out to be a stunning revival of the era.
Freya grinned as he fell in step with her. They walked down Trumpington Street, which led to the main entrance to the gardens. On the way, she gave Tarek a potted history of what he was about to see.
‘The first Botanic Gardens were founded in 1762 to educate students from the colleges in the use of plants for medicinal purposes. And later, during the 1800s – with more overseas explorations taking place – more exciting species of plants were discovered.’
Freya glanced up at Tarek as she was speaking. Freya had printed off a map of the gardens. She stopped and handed him the map. ‘What would you like to see first?’
Tarek looked at the map, grabbed her hand and said, ‘Let’s just walk.’
‘Ouch!’ Freya pulled away. ‘You’re holding my hand too hard.’
Tarek released his grip. ‘Sorry – but let’s go. I’m busy and have no time to waste on frivolous outings.’ He strode off through the gardens with Freya almost running to keep up with him. That wasn’t what he’d said all week when they’d had lunch together and found time for what he now called frivolous outings, like browsing a second-hand bookshop down a cobbled side street or wandering into the Cambridge Arts Centre to pick up a programme on forthcoming plays. Freya had thought it would be a great idea to take Tarek to the English theatre – for cultural reasons. But it was more than that; she wanted an excuse to spend more time with him.
She caught up with him. ‘Where are we heading?’ said Freya, realising he was not taking in the beautiful surroundings.
Tarek stopped and glanced at the map. ‘Let’s head for the café, and then you can tell me what this all means,’ he replied.
Freya looked at him, puzzled. What was he talking about? She followed him along Main Walk until they reached the café.
Freya was so disappointed Tarek was not enjoying all this. She’d thought it would be the perfect surprise. As they strode along the path, up ahead she could see the café, which was in a beautiful landscape setting; she should be looking forward to lunch, but Tarek’s mood had spoiled her surprise.
Tarek stopped for a moment to look at some plants clustered amongst the trees.
‘They’re snowdrops,’ Freya offered as they stopped to admire the flowers which were exquisitely displayed amongst the evergreens and trees. A wisp of a smile crossed Tarek’s face.
‘Look there’s the sign to the café.’ Freya pointed, stealing a glance at him, noticing his sour expression had softened. They walked along in companionable silence until they reached the café.
Once inside, Tarek chose a table in a secluded corner while Freya went to collect a menu.
