Page 77 of Our Stop

‘I don’t suppose it does.’

‘He was always going to find you again.’

Nadia smiled. ‘I think we were always going to find each other,’ she said, before thanking him and turning the corner to the bar.

55

Daniel

Daniel had gone straight into the bar this time, no dilly-dallying outside. He’d ordered a bottle of cava, some tap water, and a charcuterie board. The place was dark and peppered with candles, and the cold outside but warm air inside had forced condensation up the windows, making it feel cosy and like winter had almost arrived. His jacket was hung under the bar, on one of the hooks, and his phone was face-down in front of him. He waited.

56

Nadia

‘It’s you,’ she smiled.

‘It’s you,’ he smiled.

Nadia stood before Daniel, her flowers cradled in the nook of her arm. Her cheeks were flushed and she felt jittery and coy, like a schoolgirl. Her heart thumped.

He leapt up, remembering himself, and gave her a hug.

‘Thank you for these,’ she said, as they stood facing each other, nodding at the bouquet she held. ‘And for the trail of people …’

‘All the people that knew about you and me, before there was a you and me to know about …’

Nadia and Daniel sat next to each other at the bar – the same place they should have met the first time. The same guy was behind the counter. As he approached them he said, ‘Hey! You guys found each other!’ and they all laughed. Daniel poured them both a glass of cava, explaining that it was dry, like champagne, and Nada told him that she’d read something about that, maybe inThe Times.

They had so much in common, and so much yet to learn.

‘You know what?’ Nadia said. ‘Do you mind if we move to go and sit over there, at a table?’

Daniel cocked his head at her. ‘Not at all,’ he said, and Nadia explained: ‘This is where I waited for you last time. When you didn’t …’

‘Say no more,’ Daniel nodded, understanding. When he didn’t show up.

The barman gave them a little bowl of olives with toothpicks and a bowl for the pips, and said their charcuterie would be on the way. Once he’d gone and the polite chit-chat was over, Nadia finally stole a peek at Daniel and decided it was too far away to sit opposite him, so moved her chair around so that she sat on the corner of the table, next to him, her knees knocking into the side of his legs.

She said, ‘Tell me from the beginning. Tell me what happened.’ She raised her glass to his, and they said a small ‘cheers’.

‘Tell you what happened,’ Daniel repeated. They were both doing that grinning thing again. They were both just so damn happy to be there.

‘Well,’ he said. ‘I got a new job, and so hadn’t been doing this commute very long.’

Nadia dropped her jaw, playfully. ‘Oh wow, okay. You really are going from the beginning, beginning.’

Daniel’s face dropped, disappointed. ‘You said to!’

‘I was just kidding,’ Nadia said. ‘Sorry. I’m … nervous.’

‘You are?’

She shrugged. ‘A little. Maybe.’

‘Well, I’m glad you said that,’ Daniel said. ‘Because I am too.’

Nadia wanted to remember every detail of what was happening, like he’d said to. The shadows of the candles across his face and the taste of the bubbles against her throat and the way he half smiled when he was unsure and needed encouraging. She wanted to frame the smell of the place, pine cones and orange, and see herself from above, flicking her hair back off her neck.

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