by Melissa Hill
Exhaling heavily, she turned to look at him properly. Well he might be cute, but the existence of the ring rendered such observations pointless, didn’t it?
‘Look, I’m sorry about what happened with your bag. You’re right; I shouldn’t have been rooting through your stuff and I’m especially sorry about the ring – but I really did happen upon it by accident,’ she continued, aware that she was babbling. ‘I was just about to put it back when you knocked on the door – I mean I wasn’t going to steal it or anything like that. I wouldn’t dream of it.’
‘Could have been a major catastrophe losing that ring,’ he replied with a shake of his head. ‘When you consider all the planning that went into it, all the trying to keep things quiet and keep it a surprise… Not to mention the stress of having to propose in the first place.’
She nodded. ‘I can imagine.’ Leonie couldn’t help but wonder if he had proposed yet, and if he had, where was his fiancée?
‘Mick nearly had a heart attack he was so worried. Poor fella wasn’t even able to see straight, let alone try and get it back.’
‘Mick?’ she frowned. ‘Who’s Mick?’
‘And of course he couldn’t very well let on to Sophie what he was so wired about,’ he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘I mean, he could hardly tell her that he’d misplaced a two grand engagement ring, not when she hadn’t a clue he had one in the first place …’
‘Oh my goodness,’ she gasped, wide-eyed as recognition dawned. ‘You mean it wasn’t your bag at all?’
‘Whatever made you think it was?’ He was all innocence.
‘Well your theatrics for one!’ Leonie wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or annoyed. ‘All that flinging stuff around and getting on your high horse… You were so riled up, I didn’t think for a second the bag might not be yours!’
‘Hey, I’d just come off a four hour flight after a two hour delay in Dublin, remember? And then having got to my hotel, I had to go back out in this heat and take a taxi another hour out of my way to try and get the bloody bag back. The luggage was my responsibility and I felt terrible that I’d picked up the wrong one and lost Mick’s stuff, and even worse that I’d -’
‘So it was you who caused all this in the first place,’ Leonie interjected wide-eyed. ‘And to think you had to cheek to blame me for…’
He winced, realising he’d caught himself out. ‘Yikes! OK I’m busted,’ he said sighing. ‘And yeah, you’re right. I shouldn’t have got so upset that night. I suppose it was all my fault really.’
‘You suppose?’ Leonie spluttered. ‘And not only that, but then you had the cheek to start picking on me again today! I don’t believe it!’
Now he was grinning. ‘I know, I know, I’m sorry. I’m well and truly caught out now. But when I saw you get on, I just couldn’t resist, and it was only a bit of fun …’
‘Ha, bloody ha,’ was all she could say, as a smile tried to fight its way across her lips.
There was a brief silence for a bit while Leonie tried her best to pretend she was annoyed, although the truth was she was actually quite gratified that the bag wasn’t his. For more reasons than one.
Eventually, he leaned further across the aisle. ‘You didn’t really think I wore that kind of stuff did you?’ he muttered. ‘Y-fronts? Come on…’
Leonie grinned broadly, refusing to look at him. ‘To be honest, I didn’t really give it a second thought.’
The day-long journey seemed to pass in no time at all, not when Leonie was able to share it with such a chatty companion. Introductions were made and she discovered that his name was Adam, he lived in Dublin, and worked as an engineer for a large multinational in Kildare.
And although Leonie didn’t ask outright (she wouldn’t dream of it after their misunderstanding about the engagement ring!) she also concluded that he was single.
‘Mick dragged a few of us along on this holiday with him so Sophie wouldn’t suspect anything out of the ordinary,’ he told her.
‘Which was why he put the ring in the bag and not the carry-on luggage,’ Leonie said. ‘I did wonder about that.’
‘Yep. He couldn’t take a chance on security blowing the surprise. Bit of a risk, I thought. Turns out I was right, although we were very lucky that someone as honest as yourself found it,’ he added mocking her.
Leonie ignored it. ‘And has he done it yet? Proposed I mean.’
‘Nope, he’s still working up to it and from what I can see, he hasn’t had her to himself at all yet. Reason enough not to bring a busload of mates along with you,’ he added wryly.
‘How many of you came?’
‘Nine of us altogether. Four loved-up couples and little old me. I think things got a little bit out of hand to be honest,’ he continued with a shake of his head. ‘It started off as just Mick and Sophie and one or two of us, and then all of a sudden the whole gang was coming. We’ve all been mates for donkey’s years, so once word got round, nobody wanted to be left out.’
‘I must say it doesn’t sound very romantic to me.’ Leonie grimaced thinking she’d hate having so many people around for what should really be a private thing.
‘I know, but that’s just Mick’s way. Although, things certainly haven’t gone smoothly for him so far.’ Then he grinned. ‘I just hope to God that when he does get the chance to ask her that she doesn’t turn him down.’
Leonie smiled. ‘Having seen that ring, I really don’t think so.’
‘So what about you?’ Adam asked then. ‘Are you here on your own?’
She nodded, hoping he wouldn’t think she was some sad sack who had no friends. ‘It was a last-minute thing and most of my friends have other commitments,’ she explained. ‘I don’t mind though, I actually quite like travelling on my own.’
‘Well, if that’s the case, don’t be afraid to tell me to push off and leave you alone. I only came on this tour because I haven’t been to Tunisia before and wanted to do something different. And I needed a break from coupledom,’ he added wryly. ‘Don’t get me wrong, they’re my friends and they’re great, but – ‘
‘Too much lovey-dovey business?’ Leonie said.
‘The opposite actually, they never stop snapping and sniping at each other. The married ones are the worst, but even Sophie and Mick are a disaster already so who knows what they’ll be like once they’re hitched! Honest to God, sometimes I wonder why anyone bothers.’
Thinking of her own parents’ bickering before their divorce, Leonie was forced to agree, although she got the distinct impression that much of what Adam was referring to was merely good-natured squabbling.
‘So as I said, don’t be worried about me getting in your hair or anything. I’m just as happy to sit here staring out the window, and listening to yer man there snoring. Delighted in fact,’ he added with a gleam in his eye.
But after that there was little chance of Leonie asking him to leave her be, and they continued chatting easily throughout the journey.
As they travelled further away from the main tourist areas, the vegetation gradually became sparser, and wild camels roamed around in the distance, occasionally crossing the road in front of the bus.
Passing through towns and villages, they saw nomadic shepherds bringing their sheep and goats to roadside markets to sell or exchange, while village children waved at the bus as it passed by.
‘It’s tempting to stay by the pool, but I’m always glad when I do these things,’ Adam commented when they stopped for lunch in a place called Nefta, a pretty little village of sand-coloured houses on the edge of a spectacular oasis overlooking thousands of date palms, pomegranate and apricot trees.
‘Me too,’ Leonie agreed, for more reasons than one.
On the way, the tour stopped off at the desert village of Matmata, a series of subterranean cave dwellings hidden amongst a lunar-like landscape. The area was used as a film set for the home of young Luke Skywalker in the first Star Wars movies and as Adam was a big fan, this was an absolute must-see. Leo
nie too was impressed by how the cave-people (or troglodytes as they were properly called) had originally utilised the landscape in this way to escape from marauding Arabs and the desert heat, and it was fascinating to walk through the various homes – almost like stepping into another era, apart from the various TV aerials sticking out of the ground that gave it away.
When hours later, they reached their final destination, she didn’t know how she would have endured the long trip without Adam. They’d kept up an easygoing chat all along which kept the tedium at bay. But then, when the bus stopped at the edge of the Sahara sand dunes, Leonie felt the arduous journey simply melt away.
The view across the dunes was awe-inspiring. Immense waves of the finest golden sand undulated into the distance for what seemed like thousands of miles, while above was the clearest, bluest sky she had ever seen. It was late afternoon and the sun stretched the shadows of palms across the entire surface and gilded the sand in molten light.
Exiting the bus, she and Adam eagerly approached the camels that lined up on the edge of the dunes, waiting to show them the desert as it was meant to be seen.
Once everyone was fully geared up with burkas to protect from the sand and sun, Leonie took the herder’s lead and positioned herself upon a kneeling camel. She sat astride the animal, patiently waiting for it to stand up and move off nice and slowly when all of a sudden the innocent-looking (but notoriously bad-tempered) camel buckled forward and knocked her headfirst to the ground.
‘Ow!’ she groaned, shell-shocked. ‘What was that for?’
Perched nearby atop his own perfectly behaved charge, Adam guffawed. ‘Making friends?’ he grinned as Leonie dusted herself off and reluctantly went to get back on again. This time the camel, seemingly content at showing her who was boss stood up and moved off without complaint. She tensed a little, taken aback by how far above ground they were, as well as the strange bumpy motion of the camel trundling along in the sand. ‘Getting off on the wrong foot seems to be a bit of thing with you, doesn’t it?’ Adam went on, as their respective camels made their way further out to the dunes.
‘Very funny,’ she said unsmilingly.
Within a few minutes of the trek it was as though they’d landed on another planet. Leonie couldn’t get over the immensity of the dunes, the intense golden mass against the bluest of sky, a vast nothingness that seemed to go on forever. Almost post-apocalyptic with its scarcity of life, the sheer tranquillity of the place took her breath away. And as the small group watched the sun go down, and saw the golden sand gradually deepen to an intense shade of orange, she looked at Adam and knew that he was as much in awe of this as she was. In fact their entire caravan seemed to be rendered speechless by their surroundings.
‘Pretty cool, isn’t it?’ he said eventually and Leonie nodded.
‘Incredible,’ she gasped, but her trance was quickly broken when just then her camel decided that it might be a good time to take a little break. ‘Woah!’ she yelled, as the errant animal flopped to its knees, and once again deposited her on the ground like a tonne of bricks.
Again Adam seemed to find the whole thing hilarious, and this time couldn’t contain his laughter when Leonie had to dust herself off once more. She hadn’t wanted to get back on the narky brute after that as they clearly weren’t gelling, but had little choice, unless she wanted to trudge home on foot.
So by the time they got back on firm ground and reached the hotel, she was sore, bruised and covered in sand. Adam on the other hand, was just hungry.
‘How about you go and shower off all that sand and we’ll meet back down here for dinner?’ he suggested, the invitation so casual and easy it was as if they’d been doing it for years.
Leonie was pleased. ‘Sure, see you in an hour?’
‘Perfect.’
And back in her hotel room, as she stood beneath the cold, but very welcome shower spray in a strange hotel on the edge of the Sahara, Leonie smiled, getting the distinct feeling that this could be the beginning of something great.
Chapter 6
It was the day before Valentine’s Day and one of the busiest days at Flower Power Leonie had experienced so far. She and Marcy had worked like demons all day long, frantically taking in and getting orders ready to go out first thing the following day, as well as preparing bouquets for the wave of walk-in customers that they would undoubtedly have tomorrow. Valentine’s day mania really was something else and it felt like she’d been swimming in a sea of pink and red all day. Granted it was probably just as crazy back home, but as Leonie had never experienced it from the retailer side, she’d never really given it a second thought.
‘I can’t believe how unromantic this is!’ she complained to her boss, after taking a telephone order from yet another man who asked that she put ‘anything you like’ on the gift card. And so many guys were just popping in on spec and ordering pre-made bouquets for their other half, which wasn’t exactly thoughtful, was it? ‘These guys don’t seem to put any thought whatsoever into this.’ She indicated the pile of generic orders and bland message cards.
‘Welcome to the gifts industry sweetheart,’ Marcy said dryly. ‘What did you expect – Shakespeare?’
‘Well, no but I thought some of them could at least come up with something sweeter or more meaningful than just the bog standard ‘Happy Valentine’s Day.’’
‘Oh my, I think we’ve got a real live romantic on our hands here!’ her boss teased. ‘That sure won’t last long around here, I can tell you. You know, most guys don’t really think about this kind of stuff; they just do it because it’s expected of them.’
‘I suppose,’ Leonie said glumly, the scales having well and truly fallen from her eyes today. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting exactly but it certainly wasn’t this frantic almost assembly line-type frenzy. Back home, Adam had always sent her a bouquet of red roses at work on the day, and took her out for dinner that evening – kind of mundane and unimaginative stuff now that she thought about it, but she’d always enjoyed the fuss and attention surrounding the occasion.
Now, looking at from the other side, it felt very different.
‘You didn’t really expect them all to declare undying love, did you?’ her boss asked, putting the finishing touches to yet another a red rose bouquet – one of hundreds she’d already completed. ‘Are they like that in Ireland? Poetic, I mean?’
‘Well no, but –’
‘But clearly somebody was,’ she interjected with a knowing smile and Leonie wished she hadn’t brought the subject up. So far Marcy had been great fun to work for and so easy to chat to, but she wasn’t yet ready to discuss with her the reasons for being here. She knew the older woman suspected it had something to do with a man back home, hence the teasing, but to her credit she didn’t pry. ‘Well, poetic or not,’ Marcy continued, much to Leonie’s relief, ‘we’ve got a hell of a lot of lovin’ to get through today, so we’d better stop yackin’ and get crackin.’’
‘Sounds good to me,’ she replied, answering the ringing telephone for what felt like the umpteenth time that day.
When they finally finished at seven pm, having worked a full ten hours, Leonie was relieved to get back to the peace and quiet of Green Street. She put her key in the door, deciding that a long soak in the bath, followed by some good TV sounded like just the thing, as no doubt they’d be even busier tomorrow and …
Leonie paused mid-thought, as going inside, she spotted a couple of letters lying at her feet in the hallway. Her eyes widened. Wow, her very first post! This really made the apartment feel like home. But who on earth would be writing to her?
Then she smiled as she reached down to pick it up. That last time they’d spoken, Grace had asked for her address so she could send a housewarming card, so this was probably it. Phew, for a moment there she’d wondered if maybe Adam had found out where she was, but then again he would hardly…
Oh, there were two envelopes.
On the way upstairs to her apartment, Leonie tore
open the first one to find as expected, a lovely housewarming card from her friend. Despite herself, tears pricked at the corner of her eyes when she read the short message.
Happy housewarming. Hope you’re happy in your new place, but not too much! We miss you and hope you’ll come back to us very soon.
Lots of love, Grace, Ray, Rocky and Rosie. XX
She absently ripped opened the second envelope, the card having made her feel lonely and a little bit sad. That wouldn’t have been Grace’s intention of course, but she couldn’t help it. It was almost as if… Leonie paused mid-thought as she unfolded a single piece of paper.
Dear Helena,
I’m not sure if you even live here any more, probably not, and I know it’s been a while, but I just wanted to let you know how sorry I am …
Leonie frowned. What the hell …? But then all at once, a thought struck her and she picked up the ripped envelope and turned it over.
‘Oh you eejit,’ she grunted, cursing herself for being so brainless. In her haste, she hadn’t bothered checking the name on the front of the letter, automatically assuming it was for her. But the letter was addressed to and obviously meant for Helena Abbott – the tenant who had lived here previously.
Feeling very stupid indeed, and also somewhat guilty for opening someone else’s private correspondence, Leonie quickly stuffed the letter back in the envelope, as if to try and undo her mistake. But there was no way of re-sealing it, as she’d been so careless when opening the thing she’d practically torn the envelope to smithereens…