Page 66 of Atticus Arnott's Great Adventure
‘I had a great time,’ Atticus said, sitting down, too. ‘Casablanca was the perfect choice, so thanks to you and Ruby for the recommendation.’ He took a sip of coffee. ‘We even went for a paddle on the beach after our meal. The car was great, and I enjoyed driving it.’
‘Yes, yes.’ Cheryl rolled her eyes. ‘But how did you get on with Britta?’
‘She’s lovely,’ he replied. ‘Very special.’
‘I don’t know, you men!’ Cheryl tapped her fingers on the table. ‘It’s like pulling teeth.’ She sat forward. ‘Tell me what her home is like, what you talked about, and if you’re seeing her again. Ruby and I want all the gossip.’
Atticus felt like a teenager being interrogated by his mother. Cheryl’s rollers began to bounce, and he smiled as the cap slipped over her forehead. Deciding to put her out of her misery, he began.
‘Her home is comfortable,’ he said.
‘Those cottages don’t look like much from the outside.’
‘No, they don’t, but inside it’s a complete contrast, and I liked it.’ Atticus remembered the artwork and tasteful furnishings and described Britta’s home in detail.
‘What’s her background?’ Cheryl asked. ‘Married? Kids?’
‘She’s been married and there are no children, and she grew up on a farm near Utrecht.’
‘Sounds a bit of a mystery, but then folk come to Spain for all sorts of reasons, not always because of the weather.’ Cheryl drained her coffee and slipped her shoulders out of her gown. ‘Phew, it’s warming up already. My head thinks it’s in a sauna,’ she said, pulling off her plastic cap. ‘Have you made another date?’
Atticus leaned back in his chair. He stretched out his legs and smiled, his expression almost smug. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘Iwillbe seeing her again.’
The memory of Britta was like a warm, comforting hug – a feeling he wanted to cling to. Wriggling his fingers in his pocket, he felt her folded note and wondered when he should call her. He knew she was working that morning.Should he wait until her shift ended, or would that seem too eager?He had no idea how these things played out and didn’t want to bombard Britta and seemoverly keen.
‘You look like the cat that’s got the cream,’ Cheryl said. ‘I take it that you had a late night?’
‘Not too late.’ Atticus reached for his coffee.Should he tell Cheryl how he felt and perhaps ask for her advice?But before he could voice his uncertainty, he felt Cheryl gently pat his arm.
‘I think Cupid has fired a rocket launcher,’ she chuckled. ‘Your face says it all – and now you haven’t a clue how to handle things?’
Atticus breathed a sigh of relief. He stared at Cheryl and saw that she had a knowing gleam in her eye.
‘It was just the same when I fell for Ruby,’ Cheryl said. ‘Never mind any of that slow-burner stuff. When the arrow strikes, there’s little you can do about it.’
‘I can’t tell you how happy I am,’ Atticus said. ‘But I almost feel guilty for feeling this way.’
‘Guilty about your wife?’ Cheryl asked.
‘Yes, in truth, guilty that I can feel happy again when Clara had her happiness cut short.’
‘You mustn’t feel guilty for being happy,’ Cheryl shrugged. ‘Love is a self-indulgent thing. If Clara was anything like the woman you say she was, I know she would be happy for you and urge you on.’
‘But what if Britta doesn’t feel the same way?’
‘Now you’re adding hurdles when the path is currently clear. I’d say she is probably smiling at the customers in the café this morning just as much as you are sitting here smiling at me.’
Atticus stared at Cheryl. She’d voiced his exact feelingsabout Britta.Was it so obvious? Did he wear a sign that announced his newfound joy?
‘But what do I do now? I’ve no experience. It’s been decades since I dated, and I feel like a teenager again.’ Atticus frowned. ‘I don’t want to get this wrong.’
Cheryl nodded. ‘Why not drop her a text in a bit and say you had a lovely evening?’ she suggested. ‘Ask if she might be around if you give her a call later?’
‘Okay, good idea.’
But before Atticus could reach for his phone, Cheryl patted his arm again.
‘A word of advice,’ she said. ‘Be a bit guarded with Mungo. From what you’ve told us about your son and his thoughts on your trip, he might not be as thrilled as you are that you’ve suddenly fallen head over heels.’
