Let me know. My number hasn’t changed.
-Tom xxx
I sat there staring at the screen for what felt like hours. I read and re-read the message. I didn’t know what to say. Hell, I didn’t know what to think. How much would I have given to have received that email before Portugal? But now… I sighed. Not good timing. Not good timing at all.
I didn’t want to make any rash decisions, so I decided to sleep on it. My dreams were very confusing that night.
I almost told Mara and Gemma about Tom’s message over breakfast, but something stopped me. I decided to just ignore it for now and focus on my upcoming trip. I didn’t want to complicate things, and my completely confused feelings over both Tom and Leo definitely complicated things.
Chapter Ten
Destination: Ghent
I peeled one eye blearily open and blinked at my beeping and pulsating phone. Reluctantly, I reached out to turn the alarm off, and then realised what day it was. I leapt out of bed.
My bags were all ready to go; the girls had helped me pack and repack the night before. My outfit was lying ready for me at the end of my bed. Mara and Annie had chosen it. I’d bowed down to their superior fashion sensibilities.
I jumped in the shower, carefully shaved my legs, and looked at myself critically in the fogged up bathroom mirror. I could really do with a haircut, but this would have to do. Was that a zit coming up on my chin? Ugh. I thought I’d left pimples behind in teenage-hood, but they’d doggedly followed me into my twenties.
“You look nice,” Annie greeted me when I stumbled out of my bedroom, tripping over a pile of books I’d left in an inconvenient place.
“Do I? Thanks.” I smoothed my shirt. “I’m more nervous than I thought I’d be.”
Annie smiled. “You’ll have fun. And just remember, if Leo turns out to be a giant bore, or worse, you can just jump on a train and come back. You’re not obliged to stay for the whole 4 days.”
I nodded. Yes, having an escape plan was good. How well did I really know this guy after all?
“What time’s your train again?”
I glanced down at my watch. “Eight fifty-five. But I have to be there early to go through passport control.”
“Right. Do you still find it weird that you can catch a train to another country? I do,” Annie said.
I nodded. “Yep. Awesome though.”
“Oh, yeah, of course. Want me to come with you to the station? There’s a new exhibition at the Tate Modern I want to check out. I want to get there as soon as they open so it’s not too crowded.”
“Yeah, sure. I still haven’t been there yet.”
“To be honest, Bea, you probably wouldn’t like it much. It’s all modern art.”
I wrinkled up my nose. I didn’t really get most modern art. Give me the classics any day.
“Yeah, you’re right. I think I’ll just stick with the National Gallery.”
Annie laughed and nodded.
I said goodbye to Gemma, who was curled up on the couch, mindlessly channel surfing, wrapped up in a blanket.
“Let us know how it goes!” she called out to me as I left the room. There was no sign of Mara yet, so I stuck my head in her room. She was still buried deeply under the doona and what looked like half her wardrobe. All I could see of her was the top of her curly head.
“I’m off, Mara! I’ll see you in a few days.”
A grunt was the only reply I got.
Annie hustled me out the door.
We joined the stream of workers starting their day and stood in companionable silence on the crowded yet quiet tube.
Annie came with me all the way to St Pancreas and sent me off with a hug.
“Have a good time, Bea. Keep in touch.”
“I’m only going for four days!” I protested.
“Yes, but still. I worry.” Annie held her hands to her heart melodramatically. I just rolled my eyes, and promised to check in a few times.
“I’m pretty sure Leo’s not an axe-murderer,” I said.
“You never know!”
“Great, thanks. Now I’m going to be stressing about being murdered,” I complained. Annie laughed and pushed me towards the line-up with a cheery wave.
I nervously waited in line to get my passport checked. I didn’t know why I was nervous. It was pretty straight forward. I had the right kind of passport. I didn’t even need a visa for a quick trip over to Europe.
A surly looking woman greeted me at the counter with her hand held out. I hastily thrust my passport and ticket at her. She glanced almost disdainfully at them, and then asked the usual questions - where was I going, how long for, was was the intention of my visit, where was I staying. I must have satisfied her, because she stamped my passport and gestured for me to move along.
As I was triple checking to make sure I was on the right platform, I realised I’d never travelled by myself before. I was slightly proud of myself, even though I wondered if this counted. At least Leo wasn’t meeting me at the station. He had a meeting this morning, and gave me very precise directions on how to get to his apartment once I got to Belgium. He would meet me there around lunch time. I shivered in anticipation.
Finally convinced that I was indeed on the correct platform, I boarded the train and found my seat. The train was a lot fancier than the old V-Line train my brother and I had been forced to take when we’d visit our dad down in Warrnambool in the school holidays. I settled back into my seat, and closed my eyes, day-dreaming about the upcoming weekend. I hadn’t decided yet if I was going to sleep with Leo or not. I still felt a little bit weird about being with someone who wasn’t Tom. I’d only slept with one other guy before Tom, and that had been a fumbling mess. No magical losing your virginity experience for me. Just two teenagers who were as clueless as each other. My thoughts drifted to Tom. We’d been good together, and had some amazing times, although looking back, we’d been in a bit of a rut sexually for the last six months or more. After a frenzied first few days in London, we’d settled back into the old routine of not a whole lot of sex. I scowled to myself. Why was I even thinking about him? I tried to banish him from my thoughts, at least for the weekend. I still hadn’t replied to his email. I’d deal with it when I got back. Maybe.
I pulled my phone out and re-read Leo’s last message.
Hi Bea.
I’m really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow! Unfortunately my boss rescheduled an important meeting, and I won’t be able to meet you at the station after all, but don’t worry, it’s easy to get to my house :)
If you get there before me, I will leave my keys in my mailbox, so you can enter anyway and make yourself comfortable. As long as you don’t sell everything :)
You need to get off at Brussels-Midi station and switch to a train in the direction of Kortrijk or Oostende or Knokke or Brugge - maybe just ask, to make sure. Get off at Gent-Sint-Pieters. From there, go out front of the station and catch the tramline 4 in the Gravensteen direction. Get off at the final stop, and you will be on my street! My building is about 150m back from the tram stop. Number 36.
My apartment is on the third floor - green door. Help yourself to any food or drink.
Good luck! Don’t hesitate to call me if there’s any problem.
See you soon,
Leo.
I repeated the instructions to myself. Hopefully I wouldn’t mess it up and get lost. I closed my eyes with a yawn. I hadn’t slept much the night before, and was starting to feel it now. The train was peaceful. Thankfully there were no screaming toddlers anywhere near me. I felt slightly claustrophobic when we went through the tunnel under the English Channel. It felt like it was never ending, and the thought of so much water between me and the surface made me sweat. It didn’t seem to bother anyone else though. The lady next to me was typing madly away on her laptop, and the man across the aisle was buried in his newspaper, while two old ladies behind me chatted away in another language that might have been Dutch.
I felt very pr
oud of myself once I was standing outside Leo’s door. I’d managed to follow his directions and not get lost, and I’d only needed to ask for help once. Thankfully the lady could speak English and was super nice. Annie and Mara had told me a story about when they were in southern France and had been on their way to a small village where Mara’s cousin was living for a year. Mara’s cousin had written out in French what they needed to say to the bus driver, but apparently Mara had mangled the French so bad, she just showed him the piece of paper and the bus driver mustn’t have been having a good day because he proceeded to deride them for not being able to speak French, and how dare they come to France without bothering to learn the language. He’d then called them stupid Americans. They hadn’t corrected him. Thankfully for the French reputation, another bus driver came over to see what the commotion was, and was much more helpful and made sure the girls got on the right bus.
I knocked on the door, but there was no answer, so I let myself in with the key I’d found in the mailbox.
“Hello?” I called out, just in case. Silence greeted me. I was actually kind of glad of the chance to have an uninterrupted snoop, as bad as that sounds.
I stepped through the door, noting the shoes neatly stacked up by the doorway. I slipped my boots off and looked critically down at my socks. They were the one bit of clothing I hadn’t obsessed over. Thankfully there were no holes in the toes, although they were definitely not matching. One was bright pink, and the other was white.
I put my bag down in the hallway and did a quick reconnaissance. It was a one bedroom apartment, nicely renovated. The large window in the living room looked out over the street and neighbouring rooftops. I switched my gaze from the rooftops out the window, to the bookshelf. You could tell a lot about a person from their bookshelf, or lack of book shelf. I’d briefly wondered what I’d do if he wasn’t a reader, or only read car magazines. Not that there was anything wrong with people who only read car magazines, I just wouldn’t know what to talk about after the pleasantries… I needn’t have worried. Leo’s bookshelf passed my test. Mara thought my bookshelf test was stupid. Her older brother hated reading, but he was married to an author and they were happy and had been together for nine years. I maintained that they were an exception to the rule. I ran my fingers over his books. He had eclectic tastes, from history to science, a smattering of literary fiction and a healthy dose of fantasy and sci fi. They were all in alphabetical order, sorted by author. I almost swooned. My gaze switched to the photographs on the shelves. There were a few of his two nieces - I felt bad, I’d forgotten their names - and some with a man who had to be Leo’s brother. They looked extremely similar, although they had opposite colouring. While Leo was dark, his brother was fair, with almost ginger hair. There was a young woman who appeared in a few photos that I hoped was his sister. She was stunningly gorgeous. I put the photo frame back down and padded over to the kitchen. Mum always maintained you could tell a lot about a man from his fridge. That, and get him drunk early on. That was about the extent of her dating advice: get him drunk early on (so you know what sort of drunk he is - if he’s a violent drunk, run. If he’s a sleepy or goofy drunk, fine), look in his fridge, and her last bit of wisdom was ‘don’t eat spaghetti or tacos on the first date’. Practical woman, my mother.
I thought Leo would pass Mum’s test. It wasn’t just full of beer and condiments. There were a variety of sauces, fresh vegetables, a bottle of wine, a couple bottles of beer, what looked like leftovers from a stir fry, some chicken… nothing out of the ordinary. Everything you’d expect to find in a respectable fridge. Happy, Mum?
I closed the fridge and opened random cupboard doors, looking for a glass. I wasn’t sure if Leo was normally this tidy, or if he’d cleaned up on my behalf. Tom’s place had never been this clean, that’s for sure.
My heart leapt when I heard the door open. I fumbled with the glass, but managed not to drop it. I carefully placed it back on the counter and stepped out into the hallway.
Leo stood there, shrugging off his coat, and grinning at me. I just stood there like a bit of an idiot, and felt an answering grin spread over my face.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hi,” I replied, feeling shy all of a sudden. What were my arms doing? They felt awkward hanging by my side, so I crossed them over my chest, but then quickly let them drop. Stop over thinking things!
Leo hung his coat up on a rack and stepped towards me. I hovered for a moment, and then covered the distance between us, almost falling into his open arms. It felt good to be wrapped in his strong embrace. I breathed in, inhaling his scent. He smelt nice. I wondered what cologne he used.
“It’s good to see you here,” he said after kissing the top of my head. I leaned back and smiled up at him.
“It’s good to be here.” Why couldn’t I think of anything smart and witty to say?
“You had an easy trip? I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you at the train station.” He unentangled himself from me and took my hand, leading me into the lounge room.
“The trip was fine,” I said. “Your instructions were good.”
“I’m glad. Would you like a drink?” He led me over to the couch and almost pushed me down.
“Yes, please.”
“Is it too early for beer?”
I laughed. “I think so. It’s only lunch time.”
“Well, not if we eat as well! Are you hungry?”
“Yeah, a little bit,” I said. My stomach must have heard because it chose that time to let out a grumble. I blushed, but Leo just laughed.
“Shall we go out for lunch? I can show you some of my city.”
“That sounds good. I didn’t really get to see much of it on the way here.”
“Well that’s settled then. Let me just get changed out of this suit and into something more comfortable.”
“Okay. Your place is nice, by the way.” I said, looking around. It really was. Much nicer than I expected a bachelor pad to be. There was no pool table taking up the lounge room, like Tom’s friends had set up, and no fooze ball in the kitchen. It was a proper, respectable apartment. The electric drum kit in the corner was slightly unusual, but I liked it.
“Thank you,” Leo said. I sat, just looking around me, while Leo went and got changed.
“Are you ready, or would you like to freshen up before we go out?” Leo asked when he came back into the room. He was wearing jeans and a navy blue woollen jumper. How could such a handsome, sophisticated guy be interested in me? I self-consciously brushed my hand over my outfit. Did I look like a mess? It wasn’t even my top - Gemma and leant it to me. I couldn’t borrow much of Mara’s clothes - she was too tall, and much slimmer than I was. Gemma and I were about the same size though. Annie was a little pixie. We joked that she had to shop in the kids section. Sometimes it wasn’t a joke.
“I’ll just be a moment,” I almost stammered and rushed into the bathroom.
I looked myself over critically. I looked okay, I decided eventually. Nowhere near Mara or Annie’s level of gorgeousness, but I’d do for now. I touched up my eyeliner and brushed my fingers through my hair. The scarf made it knot at the back. If I wasn’t careful, it would turn into a birds nest.
I ventured back out to Leo. He looked up at from his phone and a smile spread across his face. I could get used to someone looking at me like that.
“All ready?”
I nodded.
We left the apartment, and I followed as he lead the way downstairs.
“What kind of food do you feel like?” he asked once we were on the street.
“I’m not sure. Surprise me.”
“Okay. There is a new cafe opened up on the square that I have been meaning to try. Let’s go there. I’m apologising in advance if it’s no good!”
I laughed and said I was sure it would be fine.
We walked around the corner from the apartment building. I stopped in my tracks, gaping.
“That’s a castle.”
Leo nodded.
“An actual, real life castle.”
“Yes,” he said with a laugh. “Although I think it might have been a prison at some point.”
“Wow… You never said you had a castle around the corner from your house!” I was not so quietly amazed. Living in London for the past few months had gotten me used to old buildings, and of course there were castles around, but I hadn’t been expecting one just to pop up as I rounded the street corner. I was still far too antipodean. At home it was amazing if a building was over a hundred and fifty years old. This one looked like it could be a thousand years old.
“Do you know much about it? The castle I mean?”
Leo shrugged, and pulled out his phone.
“I don’t want to tell you the wrong thing,” he said with an abashed grin. “Let’s see… it was built in 1180-”
“1180. Holy shit. That’s ancient!” I hadn’t been far off with the thousand years old thing after all!
“Yes, I suppose. What else…” He scanned his phone. “I was right, it was once a prison, and also a factory at one point! It was nearly demolished at the end of the 19th century, but then the city bought it and renovated… oh, and apparently they have an excellent collection of torture devices inside.”
“Uh… well, that’s good to know. Haven’t you been in?”
“Not since I was a little boy, I have to admit. It’s a bit embarrassing seeing as I live almost next door… Would you like to go in?”
I nodded eagerly. “Maybe after lunch though,” I said when my stomach grumbled again.
Leo chuckled and reached for my hand. We continued walking. Leo led me to a picturesque square, bordered on one side by slow moving river, and old buildings that looked like they were out of the middle ages. Cobblestones lined the square, and dozens of cafes and restaurants had tables and chairs scattered about. I breathed in deeply. Ghent was a very pretty city; with the cobblestones, castles, medieval buildings and lack of cars, it was everything my idealistic imagination had supplied me of a European city. It had a distinctly different feel to London.
Unexpected: A Backpacker Romance (The Backpacker Romances) Page 11