He sighed. ‘Okay.’ He went through it again, the bridges, rattling off a few details about each, though it was the carousel he knew the most about. When he was done, he lifted the bag. ‘And now we’re going to enjoy dinner.’
They found a bench and Sophie almost groaned in relief, getting off her feet again. Mike handed her a bottle of water, then dug out a takeaway container and passed it to her.
‘Wait . . .’ She brought her phone up.
He laughed. ‘You want to record it.’
She felt deflated for a moment, pulling her phone back close to her chest. ‘Is that – are you okay with that?’
Mike gave a little shrug as he got his own food out. ‘It’s your job. Do what you must.’
She brought her phone back up, centring the screen on him. ‘Okay, what did we get?’
‘We got food from a halal food truck,’ Mike said. ‘I got us both the chicken and lamb over rice combo.’ He set his meal down and held out his hand.
‘What?’
‘Give me your phone. It’s your blog. They don’t want to see some sweaty pillock babbling about architecture, they want to see you.’
She looked at him. Considering the fact that a good number of her loyal fans were women, she didn’t think they’d complain too much about Mike taking up some screen time. But he was right, it washerblog. She handed him the phone.
‘Okay,’ he said, holding it up. ‘Take a bite. Tell me what you think.’
She opened the box, dug her fork in and shovelled a bite into her mouth. Flavour exploded across her tongue and her eyes rolled back a little. ‘Oh my god, this might be the best thing I’ve ever eaten.’
He grinned at her from behind the phone. ‘I’m sure the fact that you’re starving helps a little.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘This is ambrosia, food of the gods.’
He laughed, bringing the phone down. He gave it back to her, taking out his own phone. Then he squeezed in close, snapping a photo of them both.
She wrinkled her nose. ‘What was that for?’
‘For me,’ Mike said, tucking his phone away.
‘Oh, right,’ she said, finally understanding. ‘Proof to your kids that you’re not working twenty-four seven.’
‘No,’ Mike said, tucking into his own food. ‘Just for me.’
‘Oh.’ She scooped up another bite with her fork, not knowing what to say. He wanted it just for him. That meant something, right? Except she wasn’t sure what, exactly. A picture of his new friend, or . . . Sophie shook her head. It didn’t matter. That wasn’t why she was here. She put those thoughts away and concentrated on her food.
The conversation shifted after that, flowing from topic to topic as they ate. Sophie felt a lot better once the food was gone, her water bottle empty.
As Mike went to find a bin for their empty cartons, Sophie wrapped herself in his jacket, watching the carousel. It really was magical, the horses sliding by, the river behind them.
‘Ready to go?’ Mike asked.
‘Not quite,’ Sophie said. ‘This place is enchanting.’ She eyed him. ‘You’re good at this.’
‘At what?’
‘Finding interesting places.’ She turned until she was facing him. ‘What do you think of collaborating?’
He frowned at her. ‘Pardon?’
She waved a hand at the carousel. ‘Helping me when you have free time – you know, beyond being a human phone-holder. I’m not sure I would have found this gem without your help. You can also speak much more about the buildings and history than I can.’
‘But it’s your blog,’ Mike said. ‘It should be about you.’