“Did she get in?” Greg asked.
“Nah. She went back a month or two later for a few days to hit up all the things she’d missed out on because of the crowds. I mean, it’s cool that they do the free admission to encourage Italians to see their own history, but it sure does make it a bit crazy!”
“My mum told me to do all the London museums and sightseeing that I wanted to do in winter. She said it gets crazy busy in summer,” Greg said.
“Yeah, same. Well, my aunt told me, not my mum.” There I went again, giving too much information that no one needed to know.
“My older sister said the same thing as well, actually,” said Mara. “She said she hit them all up in winter, then wanted to go back to a couple that she liked - I think the Natural History Museum? Anyway, she said she walked straight in the first time, but when she went back in summer the line was like three hours long or something.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, she said she ended up walking around the corner to the Albert and Victoria Museum. Apparently that one’s never full!”
“I wonder why? I like it there,” Gemma said.
“No dinosaurs,” I quipped.
“I suppose ancient Persian rugs and pottery aren’t everyone’s cup of tea,” Gemma mused.
“I loved going out to Hampton Court,” I sighed.
“Bea’s a Tudor nut,” Mara contributed. I shrugged. I was. No point denying it.
“Well, whatever. It was amazing. To walk around, knowing that Henry the Eighth had walked these exact floors, paths, these gardens. To know that this, this was where he seduced Anne Boleyn, where Catherine of Aragon watched her life fall apart... It’s amazing. It’s almost like actually going to Hogwarts.”
“Well... I wouldn’t go quite that far,” said Mara, the Potternut.
“You know what I mean. Growing up in Australia, it’s all so far away. Europe. Medieval times. You just read it out of a book and have to imagine it. It must be different actually growing up here, surrounded by castles and 600 year old pubs,” I said.
“I never thought about it that way,” Leo said slowly. “I suppose some of us do take it for granted.”
By now the line had moved forward and we were in the doorway. I breathed deeply. It smelt frankly delicious.
“My god, that smells good,” Greg moaned. Gemma giggled. What was with her? Did she like him or something?
“Yeah, it smells amazing,” she simpered. I swear she simpered.
“I want one in my belly. Right now,” Mara said and rubbed hers for good effect.
We impatiently waited as the last person in the group in front of us was served.
Finally. Our turn.
“Six orders, por favor,” Mara said.
“I want more than one!” Greg exclaimed.
“Don’t worry. One order has six tarts.”
“Ah, phew!”
We each paid, and then trooped out of the little shop. Across the road was a nice little green park. We headed there and each found a nice little spot of dry green grass. I greedily opened up my package. The smell hit me first. That warm, welcoming, comforting smell that baked goods always seem to give off. I took a deep breath and let it fill my senses. I took a bite, and the warm, gooey goodness filled my mouth. I grinned up at Leo and shoved another one in my mouth. Classiness be damned.
I shouldn’t have eaten the last one. Or the one before that. I rubbed my belly and groaned. By the looks of it, at least Gemma was feeling similar to me. Leo had wisely saved the last two of his.
“Is it wrong that I still want more?” Greg asked while wiping the icing sugar from his face.
Mara looked like she was actually contemplating it for a few moments. I just shook my head mutely.
“I think I need to walk after that. Help the digestion. Or something,” Gemma groaned.
“If we stay here, I’m going to fall asleep,” I agreed. I tried and failed to stand up. “Oof. They’ve already got to me.”
Leo held out his hand to me. I stared at it for a moment before taking it. He pulled me up, gently. Tom had always yanked me up unceremoniously if I’d ever asked for help.
“Thanks,” I said, suddenly shy.
“No problem.” He smiled, then turned and started following Greg who was already leading the way down towards the water. He was soon distracted by a tree that he decided to climb.
“Is this really the moment, monkey boy?” Mara rolled her eyes.
“Now is always the moment,” Greg proclaimed, hanging upside down from a branch. “You should come and join me. The world looks good from this vantage.”
“No thanks,” Mara sniffed. I smirked. Mara wouldn’t climb a tree even if a grizzly bear was hot on her heels.
“I think I’m too old for tree climbing,” Leo said.
“Nonsense,” said Greg.
“My body’s just not what it used to be, I’m afraid.”
Gemma was already climbing up to perch next to Greg.
“You’re right. It looks pretty good from here,” she said.
“Shall we leave the monkeys to it?” I laughed and nodded towards a small stone tower that I wanted to get a better look at.
“Certainly,” said Leo.
“Yeah, sure.” Mara rolled her eyes.
We left Greg and Gemma swinging in the tree. Mick hovered for a moment, looking between the two groups before shaking his head and following us.
“I hope the branch doesn’t break...” I said.
“They’ll be fine,” Mara said briskly and walked ahead. I looked at her for a moment, and then shrugged. She’d get over whatever it was that was bothering her. I couldn’t think of anything serious that it would be.
“So, what do you like to do when you’re not hanging around Lisbon with crazy tree-hanging foreigners?” Leo asked me as he fell into step next to me.
“Well… I dunno. I’m pretty boring.”
“I don’t believe that, Beatrix.”
“Hey, what did I say about calling me that?”
Leo just laughed.
“So you don’t have any hobbies or anything?”
“Well. I suppose. I read a lot, and I write sometimes. I used to play the piano, but unfortunately it didn’t quite fit in the suitcase… I miss it actually. More than I thought I would.”
“I’d like to hear you play sometime.”
I smiled. “Maybe you’ll get lucky.”
“I hope so. You can come and visit me and play my piano.” I glanced at him quickly. He was smiling lightly at me.
“You have a piano?”
“Yes, it was my grandmother’s.”
“Nice! Do you play?”
“Um. Well, I can play chopsticks. I do play the drums though. Adequately enough to be my sisters back-up emergency drummer for her band, and I play a little bit of guitar but not very well. I run. What else? No, running and music is about it at the moment. Work is keeping me pretty busy.”
“I hate running. Unless it’s for a purpose.”
“Oh. I find it quite relaxing. It helps me unwind.”
“I spend the whole time thinking about how my ankle hurts, now my knee hurts, oh now my shins are hurting too, and now I can’t breath, I think I’ll stop now.”
Leo laughed. “You have to run through that. It gets better.”
“I’ll take your word for it. I’ll stick to walking, thanks!”
I swilled my glass around, hoping that the ice at the bottom would hurry up and melt. I was thirsty, but couldn’t be bothered going back to the bar just yet. The bartender looked rather frazzled at all the different accents and languages being yelled at him, and random drink orders. Dylan the Canadian had asked for something called a caesar. The bartender hadn’t had a clue as to what he’d been talking about, and I hadn’t either, even once he explained all the ingredients.
“What on earth is clamato juice? What’s a clamato?” I demanded. Was there some fruit out there that I didn’t know about. Clamato sounded kind of nice. I started i
magining a a small, juicy orangey-pinky fruit but that was quickly dashed by Dylan shaking his head and laughing at me.
“You don’t have it either? Jeez. Clamato juice is, well, just what it sounds like. A mixture of clam juice and tomato juice.” He licked his lips.
“Clam... and tomato? What? Are you for real? That sounds disgusting!”
“It’s delicious. I can’t believe you don’t have them. Must be a Canadian thing... You’re missing out.”
“So, it’s like the Canadian version of vegemite?” Leo said from my other side. I jumped. I hadn’t realised he was there.
“No. Vegemite is disgusting. Caesar’s actually taste good,” Dylan said, a little defensively.
“Sorry, my friend. I’ve had both of them. They’re both equally gross. You should have national foods that taste good to everyone. Like Belgium. Who doesn’t like beer, chocolate and the best fries in the world?”
“I think you win, Leo,” I laughed.
Dylan scowled, then laughed as well before sauntering off in the direction of the American girls.
“So how is your quest to kiss someone coming along?” I accepted the drink Leo held out to me and laughed.
“Terrible. Not even a peck!”
“That’s too bad. Your friend seems to be having better luck.” I glanced over to where he gestured and grinned. Gemma had Greg in a cinch.
“I’m not sure... are they kissing or wrestling?”
I watched Leo study them for a moment. His beauty struck me again. I didn’t find many men beautiful, per se, but Leo was. In a manly type of way.
“It can not be said for sure,” he said after a moment. “There are arguments both ways. Whatever they’re doing, they seem to be enjoying it.”
I laughed again and swivelled around on the stool. We should get some of these for the place in London. Swinging around on your seat was fun. Yep.
“You know, you could always kiss me. If you want,” Leo said casually.
I choked on the sip I’d just taken and somehow snorted so it came out my nose. Fizz and nose don’t mix well, just so you know.
“Well, you don’t have to. I mean. Um. Never mind,” Leo said, not as casually and quickly handed me a serviette.
I wiped my face and coughed again, trying to get the last of the drink out of my nose. Real classy there, Bea.
“No, no. Sorry. I just. Well. Yeah. Um. I would like that, actually.” I looked up at him. His blue eyes were sparkling at me. I swear they were. Sparkling, that is. “If you wouldn’t mind,” I added, and then felt like kicking myself. Wouldn’t mind? What the hell? I felt like mentally slapping myself.
“I wouldn’t mind,” was all he said. He put his drink down, leant over and kissed me. I closed my eyes, leaning into the kiss. It was soft and pleasant. Different from Tom, yet still nice.
It was over too quickly.
“I’m leaving in the morning,” he said as he leaned back into his chair.
“I know,” I said, rubbing my lip absentmindedly.
“Do you have Facebook?” Leo asked suddenly after a moment of silence.
I laughed. Who wasn’t on Facebook these days?
“Yeah, I’m on there. You should add me.”
Leo pulled out his phone and unlocked it.
“What’s your last name?”
“Larkin,” I said. “But I’m not on there as that,” I belatedly added after he started typing.
He looked up at me with a raised eyebrow.
I shrugged. “I just don’t really like the idea of anyone who knows my name being able to find me. And my name isn’t exactly common…”
“Fair enough. Here,” Leo handed me his phone with the Facebook app open. “Find yourself.”
I quickly tapped in my username and sent a friend request.
“There you go! I’ll accept your gracious request of friendship next time I’m on,” I said, handing back the phone with what I hoped was a charming grin.
He grinned back at me.
The rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter, drinks, dancing and drunken talking. I wanted Leo to kiss me again, but despite one moment where I thought he looked like he was about to if we hadn’t been untimely interrupted by a clueless Greg, it didn’t happen.
I woke up the next morning with a groan when I saw the time. 10am. Leo was gone.
We spent our last day in Lisbon wandering around semi-aimlessly, soaking up the atmosphere, and just enjoying each others company as much as we could while nursing mild hangovers, lingering over a delicious lunch and sumptuous dinner.
I lay in bed, sleepless on our last night in the hostel, dreading the return to London in the morning.
Chapter Seven
Back in London
“I miss Lisbon already,” I grumbled.
“We’ve barely been back five minutes.” Gemma laughed and picked up her backpack.
“I miss it too,” Mara said and patted me reassuringly on the back.
It was raining. What a surprise. Flecks of water landed gently on the train windows as we wound our way through Hounslow and back into London proper. The weather couldn’t have been more different from sunny, warm Lisbon if it tried. I sighed and rested my chin on my hands. Was it my imagination, or did all of the houses rushing by look as gloomy as I felt? I hadn’t slept well last night, knowing that we were heading back in the morning - although the loud snoring coming from our new dormitory fellow hadn’t helped much either. I’d been able to hear her even through the earplugs Gemma tossed up at me. I’d lain awake, staring at the slight, sleeping girl in the bunk across from me and wondered how such a petite person could snore so loudly. If I hadn’t been looking at her, I’d have sworn the noise was coming from a sumo wrestler.
My eyes stung from tiredness, and my blue mood didn’t lift as I trailed after the other two girls from train to train and finally home. At least the rain managed to hold off while we were walking the ten minutes from the tube station to our house.
I seriously needed to look into this travelling around thing. London was not working; not while Tom was here as well. Although, the rational part of my brain started to point out, we’d both most likely end up back in Melbourne at some stage, so I should probably just get over it. People break up all the time, after all. At least we didn’t work together, or go to school together or anything like that. I smiled grimly to myself, remembering a dreaded maths class in Year 10 after Jimmy and I had broken up. It hadn’t been half as bad as I’d been anticipating - probably because poor Jimmy had spent the whole lesson staring at me, and looked a whole lot worse off than I did. Good old uncomplicated high school. I wouldn’t go back there even if they paid me.
We trooped up the stairs to the apartment. It was dark, cold, and empty.
“Where’s Annie? I thought she was gonna be here when we got home?” I said. I needed an Annie-talk. Mara shrugged, a slightly puzzled look on her face.
“Dunno.”
“She got called in to work,” Gemma called out from the kitchen.
“How d’you know?” Mara asked.
“She left a note on the table. Won’t be back ’til late. She left pasta in the fridge for us.” Gemma came wandering back out with a note in her hand.
“What a sweetheart.”
I headed straight for my little bedroom, dumped my bag on the floor and flopped on the bed. Yep, the hostel bed had definitely been comfier. After staring at the ceiling for a few minutes, I heaved myself up with yet another sigh and grabbed my laptop off the floor. I made myself a little nest with the pillows and flipped open the computer with the intention of letting Mum know we’d gotten safely home.
Mission accomplished, I opened Facebook. I’d been good. I hadn’t checked it at all while we’d been away. I contemplated having just a quick peek at Tom’s page, but before I could even start that old debate in my head, I was distracted by a message in my inbox. My heart gave a little flutter. It was from Leo.
Hello!
I hope this finds you
well and safely back home. I just wanted to say that it was great meeting you and Mara and Gemma in Lisbon and I really did have a great time hanging out with you all.
Have you managed to find a piano to play yet?
It always takes me a couple of days to settle back into everyday life after a vacation. I just keep daydreaming about where I will go next :)
Take care,
Leo
I couldn’t help myself; I grinned. I started tapping a reply out, then paused. Should I reply straight away? Would that seem to desperate? Should I make him wait a few days. I shook myself. I didn’t want to play games. Plus, we were just friends. I kept typing.
Hoe gaat het? Ik ben goed! Ik heb dit van Google Translate dus ik hoop dat het enigszins begrijpelijk!
Thanks for the email, it was nice to hear from you :-)
Unfortunately, no, I’m still rather lacking on the piano front. I think I’ll go a little mad if I don’t get to play soon!
Yeah, I always feel the same after a good holiday. Hell, even after not-so-good holidays! Where do you plan to go next? Have you got anything booked in yet?
You can always come to London, we would all love to see you, and you can crash on our couch! :-)
I’m not sure where I’ll go next. Of course, my brother would say that I’m already on holidays, what with being over here and everything, but when you go to work nearly every day, stay in a house, pay bills, see the same old people every day… well I guess it stops feeling like much of a holiday pretty quickly.
I probably sound like I’m complaining; I’m not, it’s been great living here and experiencing a different way of life in a different city… although London and England isn’t exactly a huge culture shock from Australia… maybe I should have gone somewhere random like Costa Rica or Mongolia or something. That would definitely be different!
Okay, I’m rambling.
Cheers, take care.
Bea xoxo
Unexpected: A Backpacker Romance (The Backpacker Romances) Page 7
