Before You Leave: A Romance Novel (5 page)

BOOK: Before You Leave: A Romance Novel
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The walk into the nearest town only takes twenty minutes at the most. With the streets being narrow and the lack of pavement, we do the walk in single file although Sarah holds onto my hand throughout. I can see the look Abigail is giving us when she thinks no one can see but I didn’t think it was worth costing Sarah’s happy holiday to mention it. We stop a few times to admire the scenery and I wait at the side of the road while Abigail takes pictures of the view with her phone and Sarah, being a keen photographer, uses the camera she had in her bag. Each time Sarah points the camera at me I force a smile, trying my best not to let Abigail be right about me being selfish. Our walk passes the harbour with its picturesque marina filled with boats and yachts and people enjoying the small cafes along the front.

Sarah stops to take a picture of the small fishing boats while I notice a crowd gathering around one of the larger yachts in the marina. Leaning against the low white wall to get a better view all I can see is the yacht shimmering from the sun hitting off the pearly white exterior and a haze around making it hard to see.

“What do you see Jules?” Sarah asks as she stands beside me shielding her eyes even though her sunglasses are on, to see.

“Not much, just a yacht down there with a bit of a gathering.” I answer and start to move on ahead, slowly.

Sarah stands still at the spot. Her glasses are now perched on top of her head and the camera she so loves is up against her eye. Its lens extended to the extreme. Her finger is trigger happy taking the pictures that she will probably crop, filter and print once we get home.

“Are you coming Sarah, I’m starving and we haven’t even sampled the shops yet?” Abigail whines as she walks past me, swinging her bag in her hand not looking my way as she does.

“I’m coming now. All finished.”

Putting her darkened glasses back over her eyes, Sarah joins me and links arms while walking half on the pavement.

“So anything interesting going on down there?” I ask out of curiosity.

“Nope just a posh yacht with people in smart clothes and clinking of glasses.”

“So nothing to report.”

“You saw yourself that yacht is dripping with money. Come on; let’s catch up with Abi. She seems to be eager to get moving today.”

“Yeah seems that way.” I answer and unhook my arm to be able to trail behind Sarah for the rest of our short walk.

The first place we reach in the town has its window dressed with handbags and purses. Abigail is already inside and the smell of leather floating through the air hits me before I have even entered. With the heat rising and the abundance of bags hanging over the doorway, I enter into the cool shop. Walking slowly up and down the aisles I take my time to listen to the assistant explaining, in his best English, how each bag I look at is made. I nod and smile at him while still walking along the dusty floor reaching the rack of belts that are hanging on display. I stop walking and thread one of the belts, which is beautifully patterned, through my hands, feeling the indents of the work on it.

“Would you like to buy? It is very good value. Handmade.”

“Thank you, but I have no need for a belt.” I politely tell him.

“You give to your man. I insist. He would love it.”

Still holding the black belt between my fingers, I glide my hand up to the buckle. Ryan would have loved this and every day that he would wear it I am sure he would tell me what a great gift it was.

“How much is this one?” I ask although I have no idea why.

“For you, I give it for €30.”

“€30, just for one?”

“For you give me €25 then. Look at work, smell leather. It is real.”

“Come on Julia, we can come back later.” Sarah links my arm with hers and guides me out of the shop making me leave the belt behind. I turn to see the shop assistant standing at the door shaking his head at me wasting his time.

“Why did you drag me out of there?”

“He was bullying you into buying that belt. You didn’t need it so thought it was best to leave.”

“What made you think I didn’t need it?”

Sarah stops dead in the street and turns to face me, still holding onto my arm. Even with her eyes shielded I can feel the pity behind them.

“You know why.”

“And you didn’t think that maybe I wanted it for someone else.”

Bowing her head, Sarah wipes her forehead with the back of her hand. Letting go of my arm she places her hands on her hips before looking at me.

“Look I’m sorry. I thought, well I just thought that it was something that Ryan would have worn and you didn’t know how to say no to that guy.” Sarah confesses and instantly I feel guilty at snapping at her, again.

“It’s ok. You did what you thought was best, but sometimes I need my space too to work things out.”

“Do you want to go back and buy it?”

“No, it can wait. I’m sure there are many more shops to go in yet. I know how much you enjoy shopping.”

“I will never understand why it isn’t a favourite for you too. I mean, how can we be best friends when you never like shopping, Jules?”

“That’s where I come in.” Abigail walks between the two of us and links her arm with Sarah’s. “I’ve had enough of stopping chatting every few minutes. Time for some serious shopping to be done. I have a map of the town that I got from the tourist shop over there.” Abigail waves her hand with the pocket-sized map to the place she must have been while we were talking. “It says down one of the roads off the street over there are boutiques and coffee shops. So as you don’t like shopping Julia, you can wait in the shade while we get on with our browsing. We will be quicker without you anyway.”

Before either Sarah or I could answer her, Abigail guides Sarah off to the direction she spoke about. I trail behind them as I watch Abigail lean to chat as they walk ahead. As they both laugh at whatever is being said, I duck into the first cafe they pass. A bell rings as I enter and I slide my glasses up onto my head, pushing my hair back from my face.

The place is airy with the air conditioning fan rotating on the ceiling cooling the place from the impending afternoon heat. On one side a bench spans the whole length of the wall with five square tables in front. I slide onto the nearest seat to the window and the cool leather is welcoming on my bare legs not covered by the shorts I chose to wear today. The dark green has patches of faded colour where the sun must have heated the fabric from the hot midday sun over time. Dust particles hover in the air in front of the window and dispel when a middle-aged man approaches me.

In his near perfect English he takes my order that I pick from the menu left on the table. I didn’t realise how hungry I was until I ordered my lunch.

While I wait for his return I route through my cloth bag and retrieve a book I picked up from the apartment. Probably had been left by a previous guest. I hadn’t even read the blurb at the back of the book before I put it into my bag. It was the front cover that intrigued me. “Life After Death.” Somehow I thought by bringing it with me I might find a solution to all my questions but in reality I already know I won’t.

Skipping past the first few pages of acknowledges and thanks, I start to read Chapter One.

By the time my ice cold lemonade and toasted cheese sandwich is placed in front of me, I’ve already read three chapters and am halfway through the fourth. I’m so engrossed with the author’s words that I had, unknown to me, rudely not lifted my head to say thank you when my order was placed down. It is only when hearing the voice of the person that had brought it to me that I remembered my manners.

“That must be one hell of a book you are reading.”

“I’m so sorry, that was extremely rude of me.” Putting my book down on the table beside my plate, “I didn’t order from you though, did I?”

“No love, you didn’t but I was just out the back talking to the manager when you walked in. Thought I would give him a hand and bring your order out for you. If I had known I would be interrupting a good read then I would have sent out Pablo.”

I take a long swig of the lemonade and enjoy the cool tingling liquid down my throat. A thirst I didn’t realise I had until the glass touched my lips. The man who I spent the early hours around the pool is now standing at the side of the table. His hands placed in his pockets of the shorts he is wearing. They stop just above his tanned knees and the polo shirt he is wearing is a perfect fit across his chest. I have no idea why I even notice his legs and start to feel awkward in his presence.

“Are you going to ask me to sit down?” He asks smirking.

“Why?”

“Because it is polite to do so and I did just bring you your food.”

“But isn’t that what this place is for. I order food, someone makes it, and I eat it. It doesn’t say that I have to sit with the bringer of said food.”

“You are right, I apologise. I will ask Pablo to change the menu board and add that requirement on it straight away.” Moving into the centre of the room, my uninvited guest shouts out for Pablo. My cheeks start to redden and I am thankful that I am the only one in this establishment to watch his performance. The gentleman who took my order enters from the behind the bar counter rubbing his hands with a towel.

“What do you want, Kieran?” He asks in his broken yet perfect English.

“Come here my old friend.” Kieran swings his arm around the man’s shoulders and guides him in front of me. I start eating my toasted sandwich so it doesn’t get cold and watch with interest.

“Now Pablo, I would like you to write on your menu board that any person sitting alone in this place must offer a seat to the person who brings out the food.”

“What you saying?”

“I am saying Pablo that this lovely lady needs to offer me the seat at her table as I brought her food.”

“Are you crazy? This woman wants to read. Go, leave her. She’s wanting my place for quiet. Now go away and stop being trouble.”

I can’t help but smile a little, while I chew, at the way Pablo is waving his hands around as he speaks and tries to use his towel to move Kieran out of the way.

“Go back behind the bar man, you are no good to me on my quest.” Kieran laughs and steers Pablo back to where he was. Shaking his head, Pablo drags his feet back behind the bar. Kieran on the other hand stands by my table again.

“Look, Kieran is it? I really would love to get back to my book and I’m not great at being good company at the moment. After last night I am still pretty tired and need just to unwind.” I tell him with half-truth facts. I certainly don’t want him to make himself comfortable and wanting conversation with me.

“I’m sorry, I’m the one being rude. I shouldn’t have bothered you. I’ll leave you be, just wanted to come over and see how you are really.”

“Thank you but I’m fine. Just hungry.” I pick my book back up from the table and sit back on the seat to get comfortable to continue. With my lemonade half drunk and the sandwich half eaten I intend not to move until the girls arrive back and with my guessing, it will be a few hours yet.

I don’t look up to watch him leave and only know he has from the sound of the bell ringing on the door that he has gone.

 

*****

 

The heat slowly fading through the dusty window indicates to me that the afternoon has already passed and still the girls have not returned. How much shopping in this sun can they actually do? The cafe now has a handful of customers since I arrived but I was too engrossed in my book to notice them before. The distinctive native voices and laughter rings in my ears with jealously. The carefree lives these people seem to be living makes my stomach ache with loss. I don’t want to be rude and have to interrupt the good spirits they are in but I am need of another drink. Leaving my things on the chair I make my way to the counter. Two elderly men sitting on the stools lean on the counter. Their caps beside their nearly empty glasses. As I approach the men’s high jinks quietens until they are silent. Both turn to where I am standing.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt.” I apologise to them both.

The nearest man to me with his grey hair combed over his tanned head smiles. I’m not even sure they understood what I had just said.

“I just need to order a drink.” I say with my hands showing drinking.

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