how am I going to get anything done with him about? I put my new phone alongside my own one in my parka and join him at the door.
"You look like you could use a meal Tharie, let’s go." I wonder what he means by that? What is it with people and my appearance? Has he been speaking to my Mum too? Bloody hell, hope not.
Note to self, working with a hangover, it's not clever.
He winks at me and swiftly heads off down the stairs. Steffi watches us leave, not all things end neatly. I wonder what trail of devastation this man has left in his wake. We walk out into the crisp cold sunny day, head off around the corner, I judge to be near the site of the earlier fracas with the doves. There are more people about today, there's a street market nearby and the locals are out buying their veg and counterfeit DVD’s.
Everywhere I look, people are watching him, staring, then they look at me, wondering what this ordinary girl is doing walking with this extraordinary man. Wearing a WW2 vintage parka. Or am I making it up? My head, I wish I could stop it rattling by all by itself.
HXF extended trot.
Thinking too much about unimportant things, dwelling, leaving some important things left unthought about, I snap the band around my wrist, silence, lovely.
FAK collected trot.
"It's just round here." We walk through the market and out the other side, we head into a Victorian house, a most unlikely place for a restaurant, and sure enough it's decorated like a drawing room including an authentic aspidistra on a tall hall stand, I wonder where they got that from?
See? Its things like that, who knows how rare aspidistras are? I'm sad aren't I? Reader, don't answer that.
The wallpaper is William Morris, real, and the floor has the original chequer board black and white mosaic tile. The most amazing smell is emanating from within and we follow the aroma, down a step into what would have been the living room in the original layout. High ceilings with moulded fancy architrave, seven or eight tables all full with creative types I guess from their dress and noise level. We reach the large bay window at the front and a table. Clearly the best table for two, with a reserved note on it, my heels are clacking loudly on the tile, the tone is correct, original Victorian.
"Here we are." He says taking my parka from my shoulders, he slides it slowly off grazing his hot, gentle lips on my neck. Bloody hell. Hanging it over the authentic Victorian hat rack just inside the door we had come through. I get a whiff of Daniel as the air is disturbed by my coat removal, sending his scent my way.
Thank goodness I can sit now. Sitting down, the table is tiny, and our knees are touching, he doesn’t attempt to move away and neither do I, my eyes wander around this magnificent room. Who'd have thought this was here I almost said out loud.
A little cut glass vase sits centrally on the round table that must be a bugger to dust I think, and our cutlery is mismatched, beautifully worked caste handles all different, and silver plated. The menu comes and it's handwritten in a flowery scripty hand, a woman’s handwriting I’d guess. Cotes Du Rhone '85, butternut squash and coconut soup with doorstep crusty homemade bread and fat hand cut chips.
No choice.
"They do a different meal every day, all hand cooked, fresh food, there's no choice, but strangely when I come here it's always the very thing I’d been fancying all day. Even though I might not always realise it." He looks at me for a comment, brows lifted. Is he talking about the food?
A humming I can't ignore disturbs me,
PF: “Don't forget to eat” bless.
TC: “At lunch now.” see?
PF: “Good, you'll need your strength” here we go.
TC: “I’m giving you the finger” true story.
I make yummy noises putting my phone away, "it smells wonderful Daniel, I’m certain it'll taste great too." Soup, perfect I thought, I’m not that hungry. Daniel pours us both a glass of wine, drinking in the middle of a work day…hmm mm. The bottle is already sitting on the table opened as we arrived, we raise a toast, and we clink glasses, looking at each other. Apparently it's the correct way to do it.
"Tharie, I want to welcome you to the label, and congratulate you on