Page 4 of Forever, Maybe
A waiter appeared, his attention flitting between her and the empty seat opposite. “Would you like something to drink?” he asked, polite but curious.
“Yes, please. A glass of soda water.”
He nodded, murmured, “Of course,” and disappeared, returning moments later with a highball glass brimming with sparkling water, ice cubes piled to the brim. Her sensitive teeth twinged at the sight of it. Alongside the drink, he placed a small ramekin of glossy black olives, their sheen catching the soft overhead light.
Nell plucked one from the dish, trying to quell the growing irritation gnawing at her. Being late wasn’t a crime, but it was a Danny habit she loathed, especially when it left her sitting alone, sipping soda water and pretending not to care.
She popped the olive into her mouth, hoping he wouldn’t be long.
The restaurant had filled, a lively hum of chatter weaving through the air. Most of the tables were small and close together, seating two or four, fostering an atmosphere of intimacy and warmth. The walls were adorned with paintings—sun-drenched Mediterranean landscapes interspersed with maps of Crete, a long, narrow island once celebrated as the cradle of civilisation.
Nell’s gaze lingered on one of the maps. She and Danny had gone there before they got married, back when life felt endless and uncomplicated. Hot sun, golden beaches, ancient palaces and two twenty-somethings fuelled by Ouzo and the thrill of being utterly, blissfully alone together.
They’d spent their days exploring and their nights tangled in each other, so much so that she’d ended up with a raging case of thrushanda bout of cystitis.
God, it had been worth it.
Sorry, sorry! Be there soon!
Another message from Danny.It was now quarter past eight. Waiters surrounded her, delivering plates over-flowing with food, scenting the air liberally with garlic, griddled pork, oregano and dill. When he finally arrived, Danny would be in his element. He loved micro-examining what other places did.Look at the amount of meat they’ve piled on the plates, Nell! How the hell are they making money?
A couple took the table nearby, shuffled into place by the same waiter who had taken her coat. Nell guessed the woman was ten years younger than her. The woman patted her protuberant belly sheathed in bright pink. Her partner beamed, directing his happiness all around him.
They didn’t so much sit as collapse into their chairs. “Bring me food!” the woman exclaimed, “and a tonne of it! I’m eating for two!”
The waiter bent over, resting a hand on her stomach. The over-familiarity didn’t seem to bother the woman. “Ah, Mitera!” he said, and she returned his smile.
“What does that mean?”
“Greek for mother!”
The waiter moved off, promising to return soon with menus and complimentary pita bread and hummus. Nell, realising she’d been staring blankly after him, turned her gaze back to the street outside. The yellow-orange glow of the streetlights cast fluorescent puddles onto the pavement, their reflections rippling faintly with each passing car.
From this vantage point, she would spot Danny the moment he arrived, whether tumbling out of a taxi or rushing up from the city centre train station.
The streets remained stubbornly Danny-free.
“Madam?” The waiter reappeared, the same one who had brought her soda water earlier. His expression was carefully polite but laced with visible concern. “Will your dining companion be joining you soon? We’reextremelybusy tonight.”
Nell forced a tight smile. “I’ll call him.”
The waiter didn’t budge. He obviously didn’t trust her to make the call. Nell sighed, pulling out her phone, acutely aware of the couple at the next table watching her every move. They exchanged smirks, clearly delighted by the unfolding drama.
She dialled Danny’s number, willing him to pick up. The phone rang and rang… and rang.
No answer.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the couple exchanging a smug smirk. The fourteen-year-old version of herself stirred, itching to flip them a one-finger salute.
“He’s probably on the train,” Nell said brightly, forcing her most casual, unaffected smile. “But he won’t be long!”
The waiter gave her a slight nod and walked off, stopping by the other couple’s table to assure them that their hummus and pita bread were on their way. He hadn’t offered the same to Nell, who found herself ravenous—at the point of wanting to yank every plate that passed her by and wolf down the contents.
Her phone rang.
“Danny! Where areyou?”
“Nell, look, I’m so sorry but Dennis called me. They’re running out of bread, so I’ll need to stock up on supplies and nip up to—”
