“Did you have a dirty sex-dream?” Mara’s voice drifted through to me. I froze.
“What?”
She repeated herself, stifling a laugh.
“No!” Jesus bloody Christ, was I that transparent?! “Why would you think that?” I self-consciously pulled the sheets higher.
“Well, your face is all red and you look strangely smug and satisfied. So, who was it?” I glanced down at Gemma. She just rolled her eyes.
“No one. I didn’t have a sex dream.”
“Uh huh. Was it Greg?” Gemma perked up at that. I shook my head.
“Please don’t say it was Tom,” Gemma started.
“No! Oh my god.” I wondered if just admitting it would get them off my back. “It was…” Probably not.
“Come on, spit it out, Larkin.” They were both staring at me now, both amused. My turn to roll my eyes.
“It was… Leo…” They both guffawed. I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. “It doesn’t mean anything!”
Mara grinned at me. “It means you’re starting to get over your stupid ex. Now we just need to turn this dream into a reality… he is very fine.”
“No, we really don’t. It was just a stupid dream. Drop it.”
Mara held her hands up in supplication.
“As you wish.” I couldn’t help but notice the wink she threw in Gemma’s direction. I was pretty sure I hadn’t heard the last of this…
“So, what’s on for today?” I asked, trying to change the subject to something more practical and not about my non-existent love life.
Mara shot me an odd look. “Did I imagine the conversation we had last night?”
Gemma let out a short laugh. “It’s all right, I recall it.”
I looked between them, puzzled and then realised. “Was I in bed?”
Mara nodded.
“You know you shouldn’t have important conversations with me when I’m half asleep. I don’t remember a thing.”
“You know, you might have been mostly asleep. I did think it was a bit weird that you suggested we go to Moscow on Tuesday…”
A giggle escaped me. “I said what?”
Gemma nodded. “You did. And something about a scientific expedition to Antarctica. I suppose in hindsight we should have realised you weren’t quite with us. Anyway, we’re going to Sintra today, remember?”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I forgot. We talked about it at breakfast as well… old palaces and all that.”
An hour and a half later, we were on a train which Mara assured us would take us out to Sintra. It was another beautiful, sunny, warm day. I wondered what the weather was like back in London, and shuddered at the thought of returning in a few days. I should really look into moving somewhere with permanently good weather, I thought. It did so much for my mood. Although would I appreciate the perfect weather as much, if it was perfect every single day?
Gemma was flicking through her guide book, a concentrated frown resting on her face.
“So, what can you tell me about Sintra?” I asked, prodding Gemma with my foot. Gemma straightened up and tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear. In what I liked to think of as her ‘teacher-voice’, she started, “Sintra is an extremely picturesque town set amidst the pine covered hills of the Serra de Sintra. In days gone by, the nobility of Portugal, lured by the slightly cooler climate, constructed lavish palaces, extravagant residences and delightful gardens. Tourists are drawn by the fascinating historical buildings and beautiful scenery, making Sintra the most popular day trip from Lisbon.”
“Good to know we’re on trend,” I said. Mara laughed.
“Nah, it’s worth it. You’ll love it, promise. Pretty, old buildings everywhere. Just your cup of tea!”
Mara was right. We spent the whole day wandering around the town and palaces. More than once, Gemma and Mara had to stop and wait for me to catch up, because I was walking too slowly, craning my head around, trying to soak in every detail and commit it all to memory. I found myself lost in time, walking along a trail amongst the old Moorish wall. I wondered about the people who had planted those stones, layer upon layer. What had they thought about? Who were their loves, their concerns? What was their favourite part of the day? We find ourselves to be so utterly important, but really… once we’re gone, what’s left? These nameless men left a wall, a castle, a scratching proclaiming that they were there, they lived. What will I leave?
More than once, I felt like I could be walking through a fantasy book. I dawdled behind Mara and Gemma. We walked along an old section of a crumbling wall. The lush green forest surrounded us, and some stairs led up to an old medieval looking castle wall. I wondered where the stairs led to, or who had climbed them. I paused to take another photo. It really did look like something out of one of my fantasy novels. I marvelled at my luck at being able to travel and experience these wonders. This and the night before were what I’d imagined life would be like in Europe. I felt a surge of happiness rush through me, took another photo and then hurried to catch up with the girls. They’d gone around the corner and out of sight.
“We’d better head back to the train station,” Gemma said later in the afternoon. I’d lost track of how many places we’d looked at, but I could have easily spent more time there. However, Mara nodded, so I went along with the two girls, looking wistfully behind me. Sintra was firmly going on my list of places to come back to.
By the time we got back to the hostel, the party atmosphere was in full swing. Drinks were flowing, as was the laughter. I spotted Leo in the corner, laughing with Greg. My heart skipped a beat when Leo looked up and met my gaze. Tom couldn’t have been further from my mind.
Chapter Six
To market, to market
“There’s a market on this morning, somewhere nearby. Gemma mentioned last night that you like markets,” Greg said, looking around the almost empty kitchen. It was just me and laptop-boy. I wondered if he’d even moved since yesterday.
“Awesome! Yeah, I love markets. Are you going?”
“Yeah, markets are cool! Get some great stuff there, and I need a new piece of string for my necklace. I’m sick of re-tying this one over and over again.” He held out one of the black cords around his neck. It was indeed studded with knots. There was a bell at the end of it, and he had three other pendants.
“What are they all from?” I asked.
His hand flew back to his neck, where his fingers lovingly caressed each pendant.
“This one,” he said, holding a green owl, “my friend found at the bottom of the Gulf of Thailand and brought up for me.”
“Sweet,” I murmured. “And the ivory?”
“Well, it’s not ivory. Not real ivory. I bought it in Vietnam. And my parents gave me this one.” His fingers went to a Maori-looking carving.
“And the bell?”
Greg laughed. “My ex-girlfriend gave it to me. So she knew when I was coming.”
I raised my eyebrows, then laughed. “Fair enough!”
“Where are your evil henchmen?” Greg asked, after looking over his shoulder again.
“Evil hench- oh. They should be down soon.” Mara had decided to wash her hair. That was always a production and a half. I was sometimes jealous of her long blonde, curly hair, but at times like this I was grateful for my fine, straight hair. No hassle to wash; dried in twenty minutes without me having to do anything. Mara’s hair took all day to dry if she just left it.
I wasn’t sure where Gemma was, I’d thought she’d been right behind me.
I dug into my eggs and finished them off with gusto while Greg started on his.
“So do you want to come to the markets with me and Mick? I mean, all of you?” Greg asked through a mouthful of eggs. I finished chewing, took a gulp of water to wash it down with and put the glass carefully down on the table.
“Yeah, probably! I’ll have to double-check with the other two, but our plans were pretty fluid today. We’re going out to Belem to eat an obscene amount of custard tarts at som
e point, if you want to come too.”
Greg nodded enthusiastically. “Belem, oh yeah, I heard about that. Holly was telling me they’re delicious.”
“Have you seen Leo today?” I asked, then blushed. I hoped Greg wouldn’t notice my face suddenly turn five different shades of red. Stupid dreams. I mentally sighed. He was Belgian, going back to his life in Belgium. Do not get attached, I sternly told myself, and no more fantasies. You can have a bit of fun here, but that’s it. No more. Just some harmless, innocent fun. I realised I was glaring at my plate and smoothed out my face and stopped lecturing myself. I told myself to just relax and go with the flow. Go with the flow. That was my brother’s motto.
“Yeah, I saw him in the bathroom just before,” Greg said. “Why?”
“How was Sintra?” I looked up from my eggs. Leo walked into the kitchen and smiled at me. I felt my face heat up.
“Speak of the devil!” Greg said. I glanced at Greg and hoped he wouldn’t say anything too embarrassing.
“Really good!” I swallowed my mouthful before continuing. “It’s really beautiful out there. Have you been?”
Leo shook his head and sat down opposite me, next to Greg. “I’m planning to go on Wednesday.”
I nodded. “You’ll love it. I thought the castle on the hill was cool, but Sintra is amazing.”
Leo smiled and nodded at me and then thanked Maria when she placed his scrambled eggs carefully in front of him. Greg passed him the salt.
“What are you doing today?” I asked.
Leo paused eating for a moment and shrugged. “Not sure yet. I was going to let my brain wake up with some coffee first.”
I laughed, probably more than the comment deserved.
“How about you guys?” He looked at me and Greg.
“There’s a market near here somewhere that we’re gonna check out,” Greg said. “You’re more than welcome to join us.”
“Then we’re going out to Belem for the famous Pasties de Belem,” I added.
Gemma and Mara chose that moment to come into the kitchen.
“Did someone say market?” Gemma asked enthusiastically.
Greg nodded through his glass of juice.
“Awesome. I love markets!”
“Yeah, I know. You told me last night. Three times.” Greg laughed as Gemma pouted.
We collected Mick from his dorm room after breakfast and walked together towards the market. It was a beautiful day; blue sky, sun shining, not too hot. With a jolt, I realised I hadn’t even thought of Tom yet today. It was a relief. Maybe things would get better with time. Of course, then I started thinking about him again. I shook myself mentally and tried to concentrate on what was going on around me instead of wondering what he was doing, or wishing he was here to share it with me.
I trailed after the others. Gemma was laughing at something Greg had just said. Mara rolled her eyes, while Mick smirked. I wondered what he'd said. Leo seemed to be paying about as much attention as I had been and was glancing bemusedly between Gemma and Greg. I walked faster to catch up with them. There were a lot of people out and about. Most of them looked like other tourists, and I got distracted, trying to identify all the languages being spoken around me. I knew what Portuguese sounded like now, at least. I caught up to Leo.
"You speak five languages, right?”
Leo nodded, glancing sideways at me as he stepped around a woman who stopped suddenly in front of him. I got a bit of a jolt when he bumped into me.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
“It’s all right.” I really hoped I wasn’t blushing again.
“What about languages?” Leo asked me. His hand shot out to steady me as I went sideways, my ankle almost twisting when I misplaced my foot on the cobbled road.
“Shite, sorry. Should watch where I’m walking better.” I paused and disentangled myself from him. “I was just wondering how many languages were being spoken here... I can recognise quite a few... but there are a lot that I have no idea about.”
Leo listened for a moment, and then started listing off languages as we passed people. French. Dutch. Swedish. Turkish. Spanish. German. Russian. Estonian. English.
“I knew that one,” I laughed.
I put my hand on the railing as we climbed up some more stairs.
“Oh, good. We’re here,” Leo said.
The market was spread out below us, three lines of stalls. The others had stopped and waited for Leo and I to catch up.
“Shall we meet back here in say... I dunno. How long do you want to stay?” Gemma said to us all.
“Ten minutes?” Mick said.
“What? Only ten? I was thinking more like an hour?” Gemma looked aghast.
Mick looked even more aghast at Gemma’s suggestion.
“An hour?! What could you possibly do here for an HOUR?!”
“How about 30 minutes?” Greg cut in. “Then we can see if we’re done, or negotiate for a bit more time if some of us need it. How’s that sound?”
“Yeah. All right, I suppose,” Mick muttered.
“Agreeable,” Gemma loftily acceded. I rolled my eyes at Leo who just laughed.
“Okay then. That’s settled. See you all back here in thirty minutes!” Mara charged away towards a jewellery stand.
I looked around, uncertain which way to go first. In a moment I was the last one standing there as they all scattered around the market.
“Are you coming, Bea?” Mara called out.
I nodded and followed her.
Thirty minutes, and dozens of stalls later, we met back at the agreed spot. I’d bought a new shoulder bag, which came in handy for Gemma to put all her purchases in. I told her she’d have to carry it though. I wasn’t going to be her packhorse. She’d never stop buying things then. That was usually only when she stopped - when her purchases got too heavy for her.
“Did you get anything?” Leo asked me. He was holding a small brown paper bag.
“Yeah,” I pointed to the bag that Gemma was holding. “How about you?”
“Oh, just something for my mother.” He didn’t open the bag, so I decided not to pry.
“How about you, Mara?”
She held out her arm, which now had half a dozen new bangles and bracelets on it.
I gushed over them, like I knew she expected. Mick yawned. Greg proudly showed off his new necklace chords or whatever they were called. I generally didn’t like jewellery on guys, as a rule, but I had to admit, Greg made it work. He gave off a surfer-dude hippie vibe, and looked like he’d be far more at home barefoot on a beach, working on his tan and bleaching his already sun-bleached hair, than in the crowded streets of a major European city.
“Do you surf, Greg?” I randomly asked.
He looked at me, surprised. “No, not really. I tried once but I nearly broke my jaw.”
Mick laughed. I frowned, puzzled.
“How?”
“Board came out from under me when I missed a wave and hit me pretty damn hard in the chin.”
“Rookie,” Mick smirked.
“Yep! I much prefer climbing mountains. I’m pretty big into the rock-climbing scene in Brisbane, actually.”
“Oh... for some reason you struck me as a beach kind of person,” I said.
“Well, to be honest, I am. Love scuba diving! I’m going to go to Thailand after Europe and teach scuba diving with some mates. After I get my certificate. It’s gonna be so awesome.”
“Yeah, that sounds pretty great...” I shuddered inwardly. Scuba diving had never appealed to me in the slightest. The thought of being under so much water and just relying on some tanks gave me the heeby jeebies. Not to mention sharks. I think I’d be paranoid at all times that a shark was coming up behind me, about to take me out. I liked going to the beach, but I didn’t usually go in very deep, or in murky water. I hated it when anything swam up against me or touched me. Always gave me such a fright. My brother Lewis never seemed to care though. He loved surfing when we got the chance, and was always way out
in the break, either with a surf board, body board or just using his plain old body to catch the waves. Looked fun... but... I couldn’t bring myself to do it very often.
Gemma laughed at me. “Liar, Bea. You hate scuba diving.” She turned to Greg. “Bea’s not much of a water person. Thinks she’s gonna get attacked by a shark or something.”
I felt like punching Gemma in the arm.
“I’m not that bad... I like snorkelling…sometimes…” I said rather lamely.
“Well, we’ve seen the market, can we go out to Belem now? I want some of these famous tarts. And I’m bloody hungry!” Mick said.
“Yep, sounds good.” I said. “Gemma? You done?”
Gemma sighed and looked wistfully over her shoulder towards the market. There were still dozens of stalls she hadn’t had a chance to look at.
“I suppose so...” I could almost see her worrying that she’d missed some great find in one of the unexplored stalls. Even though I thought they’d been getting a bit repetitive. I didn’t mind this kind of market, with its trinkets and books (although most of the books had been in Portuguese, not English) and clothes and jewellery, but I think I preferred farmer’s markets with fresh produce.
We got off the tram. I instantly spotted our destination. There was a small line of tourists (I assumed) that snaked out the door and up the sidewalk. The six of us crossed the road and joined the end of the thankfully short line.
“I read online that the lines for this place can be absolutely crazy in peak season,” I said. Gemma nodded.
“Yeah, same. Don’t think I would bother if we had to wait three hours. My cousin Rosie was in Italy during this ‘free museum’ week last year. She said it was nuts. She went to the Colosseum and the lines were bonkers. Like six or seven hour wait.”
Unexpected: A Backpacker Romance (The Backpacker Romances) Page 6
