by Melissa Hill
‘So how was your week?’ he asked, when the waiter had taken their order.
‘Good thanks.’ Alex decided not to say anything about Doug’s phone call earlier. Not that it made much of a difference (at least not to Jon) but she really didn’t want to revisit that particular topic of conversation and certainly not tonight. ‘Although unlike you,’ she joked, ‘I didn’t get to save any lives.’
‘Hey, a job’s a job,’ he said with a modest smile and again Alex was impressed by his lack of arrogance or vanity. At thirty-six, he was one of Memorial’s youngest but most senior surgeons, yet he always acted like it was no big deal. ‘Course, the major downside is that I don’t get to see you as often as I’d like.’ He reached across the table and laced his fingers through hers. As he did Alex felt an automatic shiver run down her spine.
‘You’ve got some more nights coming up then?’ She tried not to sound too disappointed.
‘A whole week after Sunday. I’m sorry honey, I’d really hoped we could do something special Thursday but it’s just not working out.’
Alex was confused. ‘Why Thursday?’
‘Well, Valentine’s Day of course,’ he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and she had to smile. Another thing she loved about Jon was that there was no game-playing and none of the immature bravado and male posturing that often went hand in hand with dating guys now. Instead he was totally upfront and decisive about what he wanted, and to Alex this was deeply attractive. Obviously comfortable with his masculinity, he was also very attentive and quite romantic too (even though Alex was way past all that hearts and flowers stuff) and she was lucky to have found him. So why was she still holding back?
Well, there would be no more of that, she decided suddenly, drinking in his gorgeous face. No more delays or excuses; if after dinner Jon invited her back to his place on Nob Hill, this time she would go. And realistically, how much longer could she actually wait? There had been a real buzz between them right from the very beginning, so wasn’t it about time she allowed herself give in to that, and just go for it? And moreover, why wait to be asked?
‘Don’t worry about that,’ she said smiling coyly. ‘Why don’t we celebrate it tonight instead?’
Jon looked up and met her gaze, instantly catching her meaning. ‘Sounds great to me. Wanna skip dessert?’
‘Dessert?’ Alex laughed. ‘We haven’t even had our entrees yet!’
‘I guess I’ve just realised that I’m not really all that hungry,’ he replied, with a mischievous smile and Alex shook her head in feigned exasperation.
Tonight, she and Jon would take their relationship to a whole other level and Alex would finally be able to cast aside the stupid, crazy guilt that resurfaced every time she’d thought about it up to now. And that was a joke, wasn’t it? Why should she feel guilty about trying to move on with the rest of her life?
Jon picked up her hand and moved it to his mouth, tracing tiny kisses on the delicate skin inside her wrist, a small but effective preview of what was to come. Alex gulped.
Forget guilt and disloyalty and all the foolish irrational stuff that had been holding her back. Tonight would definitely be the night, and Alex already knew it would be great.
Chapter 5
‘You have a job – already?’ Grace exclaimed. ‘Gosh, you don’t waste any time, do you?’
‘It was just luck, I suppose,’ Leonie said, explaining how she’d stumbled across Flower Power. That day, once she’d successfully navigated her way back to Green Street, she realised that Marcy’s shop was only five blocks away from the apartment, and a short ten-minute walk. It couldn’t be handier and again, because everything now seemed to be slotting so easily into place, Leonie wondered if somebody up there might be giving her a helping hand. Today had been her first day on the job and while it had been hectic, she’d really enjoyed getting stuck in.
‘But a florist’s?’ Grace continued disbelievingly down the other end of the line. ‘Sure, you know feck all about flowers!’
‘Well, I know a little bit from being at Xanadu – but I’m picking things up as I go along.’
‘Wow, you really are gas, Leonie,’ her friend went on, this time with obvious admiration in her tone. ‘Only a few weeks there and already you’re practically one of the natives! Me, I get lost in Dundrum Shopping Centre, never mind trying to find my way around a massive place like San Francisco.’
‘It’s easy to find your way around here though. It’s a very compact city; you can pretty much walk to most places –’
‘Well it wouldn’t be me ….oh, Rocky, stop – leave your sister alone!’ Grace admonished her errant son, before smoothly continuing with the conversation, ‘but I envy your confidence all the same. Probably from all the travelling you’ve done. Oh, and speaking of which, we’re trying to plan our first family holiday at the moment,’ she added excitedly.
‘Really? Where are you thinking of going?’ Leonie was surprised to hear this. Grace generally disliked travel, and at three years old and full of beans, the twins would inevitably be a handful on any flight.
‘Ray was talking about Tunisia. Apparently it won’t be too hot over there around Easter but it’ll be warmer than Cyprus, which we were thinking of first. Now, don’t ask me anymore about it because he’s supposed to be making all the arrangements and to be honest, I’m not even sure if it’s one of the Greek Islands or the –’
‘It’s Africa,’ Leonie told her smiling. ‘Tunisia is in Africa.’ Given her friend’s wonky sense of geography, it was probably a good thing Grace didn’t travel very much!
‘Is it really? Now I didn’t know that,’ she said, sounding worried. ‘Will it be a very long flight so? God almighty, I don’t know why I let Ray organise these things; he just asked the travel agent for winter sun and that’s what we got. Sure he wouldn’t have a clue either, and knowing him he probably thinks it’s in Spain.’
Leonie smiled, trying to imagine that conversation in the travel agency. ‘Oh, Rosie, will you give it a rest please!’ Grace moaned and Leonie deduced that the twins were kicking up a right rumpus in the background.
‘Are you sure you’re still OK to talk?’ she asked.
‘Oh, don’t mind them, they’re just acting up ‘cos they know my attention is elsewhere. God only knows what they’ll be like on a plane! But thinking about it now, you’d be the right one to ask about where we should go really. Have you been there, to Tunisia I mean?’
Leonie’s heart skipped a beat. ‘Yes,’ she murmured. ‘A while back, not long after the twins were born actually.’
‘Really? I can’t remember that at all but then again, that’s no surprise back then my brain was like mush! Africa, eh? So what’s it like? Will it suit us because I really don’t know if…oh!’ she exclaimed, breaking off in mid-sentence, and Leonie knew she’d finally copped it. ‘After the twins? Of course! Sure wasn’t it there that you – ‘
‘Yep,’ Leonie finished, trying to keep her tone even. ‘It’s where Adam and I first met.’
‘Oh Lee, I’m sorry, I completely forgot, and I didn’t mean to bring all that up....’
‘Hey, no need to apologise, I can’t pretend he never existed, can I?’
‘But isn’t that sort of what you’re doing now?’ her friend pointed out and Leonie marvelled at how her friend, despite her scattiness, somehow always managed to zoom right to the heart of the matter.
‘No,’ she replied firmly. ‘It’s not. All I’m doing at the moment is trying to leave the bad stuff behind.’
‘Oh, I don’t bloody believe this….’ Grace groaned again, and Leonie wondered what the kids were up to this time. ‘Rocky! What on earth goes through that head of yours?’ she said in obvious exasperation.
‘Grace, honestly, you’d better go, it sounds like you really have your hands full there.’
‘I suppose I’d better before they burn the house down around us,’ her friend sighed. ‘Typical, the one time I get to have a bit of adult con
versation! Oh well, never mind, congratulations on the new job and I’ll talk to you again soon, OK?’
‘Sure,’ Leonie replied. ‘Give my love to the kids.’
Having said goodbye, she replaced the handset and walked over to the bay window, her thoughts still full of the conversation about Grace’s holiday plans.
Tunisia of all places.
Well with any luck she mused, her thoughts drifting back to her own experiences there, Grace would have as unforgettable a time as she had.
Three years earlier
The flight had been delayed in Dublin by a couple of hours, so by the time Leonie arrived at Tunis airport, she was jaded and irritable. The early evening heat and stuffy arrivals hall didn’t do much to lift her spirits, and as she waited at the carousel for her luggage she was inclined to agree with what Grace had said before she left.
‘I don’t know what you get out of taking off abroad like this,’ her friend chided when Leonie informed her she was heading away for a week’s holiday. ‘It’ll hardly be much fun on your own and maybe if you gave me a bit more notice, I might have been able to come along with you.’
But Leonie knew that pigs would fly before Grace would leave her beloved new-borns, (nor would she expect her to) not to mention that these days her friend generally needed a few weeks’ notice for something as simple as meeting up for coffee!
Notwithstanding the fact that Grace wasn’t a fan of foreign travel, so in truth the thought of asking her to come along had never even crossed Leonie’s mind. As it was, she’d been due a couple of week’s annual leave from work, so she decided to make the most of them.
A quick search on the internet for last-minute sun holidays had thrown up the usual packages in Spain, Portugal and such-like, which didn’t particularly interest her, and she was just about to abandon the plan altogether when she came across an option for Tunisia. It wasn’t somewhere that had ever been high on her list of countries to visit, yet it did sound that little bit more interesting than Costa del Golf.
A few days lounging by the pool combined with a taste of North African culture sounded good, and a bit of sunshine would definitely be welcome. Even though it was late April and almost summer, Leonie could barely remember what the sun looked like.
But now as she waited impatiently at the carousel, sweat rolling down her back and the heavy reek of tobacco in the air, she wondered if this was such a good idea after all. She wouldn’t mind but she’d only brought a teeny case, small enough to count as hand luggage on any other day, except for the old-school and restrictive rules of this particular airline. Hardly surprising when the ancient 737 that had flown them here had threadbare seats, an out of order in-flight entertainment system and in all honesty, looked to be held together with little more than duct tape.
A few minutes later Leonie finally spied her little case, one of the few that wasn’t festooned with brightly coloured ribbons and other identifiable markers, but was instead a simple generic-looking holdall. Going outside the terminal she waved down a taxi, and much to her relief was soon en route to her hotel.
Almost immediately she felt her irritation subside and her body relax as she stared out the window of the cab and began to take in her new surroundings. There was always something wonderfully addictive about arriving in a brand new country, and even though there wasn’t a whole lot to see on the way in from the airport, it was still enthralling.
On her own or not, this was the main reason she had come here. It had been over a year since her last relationship, and she wasn’t too hopeful of starting another any time soon. It was difficult being single in Dublin at thirty, as the old cliché of all the good ones being taken very much held true. And Leonie had tired of the merry-go-round of going with her friends to nightclubs and hoping to bump into Mr Right. It seemed like it was never going to happen and in all honesty, she no longer had the energy for that kind of thing. If she met someone, she met someone but she wasn’t going to actively search for him.
Truthfully, she’d love what Grace had now; the lovely husband, gorgeous children and loads of extended family close by. But with her parents scattered on opposite sides of the globe and ne’er a man in sight, it was never really going to be an option, was it? Oh well, Leonie thought, trying to shake any negative thoughts out of her head, and focus on the lovely week of sunshine and relaxation that was ahead.
All the way in from the airport, the architecture had been very ‘Arabian nights’, so she couldn’t help but feel let down when the taxi eventually pulled up outside a well-maintained, but disappointingly generic-looking tourist hotel. She’d been hoping for something a bit more exotic and interesting, but what the hell – after a few days she’d no doubt be glad of the home comforts!
Having checked-in at the front desk, she went to her room and was delighted to see that her balcony overlooked a large and hugely enticing freeform swimming pool. The room itself was basic but clean, although she realised, there was no air-conditioning!
Rivulets of sweat were now rolling down her back and Leonie seriously needed some cooling off. She stared again at the cerulean blue waters of the lighted pool. It was by now late evening so the pool itself was empty and there wasn’t a soul to be seen in the surrounding area. A relaxing solitary dip would be just the thing to ease away the after-effects of the journey, wouldn’t it?
Leonie put her case on the bed and unzipped it, intending just to whip out her bikini; she’d unpack the rest later. But instead of a familiar pile of colourful holiday clothes, to her astonishment (and immense dismay), she opened the case to find a selection of drab looking stuff she didn’t recognise.
‘Blast you anyway!’ she groaned, immediately realising she’d picked up the wrong bag. A man’s bag too by the looks of things, and someone who would probably be just as pleased to find a load of rainbow-coloured shorts, sun-dresses, and bikinis when he opened hers. Not to mention her underwear, she moaned, raising a sweaty hand to her forehead.
Leonie couldn’t believe it. In all the places she’d been, all the flights she’d taken and the crappiest places she’d stayed in, this had never happened.
But how had it happened, she wondered now. OK so she’d obviously picked up the wrong bag, but had the owner of this one – she began examining it for a name and hopefully an address – picked up her bag long before it even reached her at the carousel? Which would have caused her to automatically assume this one was hers.
She flipped back the lid of the case and took a closer look at the front. Nope, there was absolutely no reason for her to assume it wasn’t hers, as it looked exactly the same – except of course, she thought, kicking herself, she hadn’t bothered to check the nametag. While she always included a forwarding address on her luggage tag this person hadn’t bothered, which meant that the task of getting her stuff back anytime soon was going to be even harder.
But maybe there would be something inside?
Leonie began searching through the packed clothes, the stifling humidity heightening her irritation even further. Whoever this guy was, he was pretty anal, she mused, taking note of the meticulously folded shirts, T-shirts and trousers and ugh! She quickly avoided a few pairs of nasty looking Y-fronts.
Or maybe his wife was? Everything was neatly laid out alongside shoes and toiletries as well as a couple of paperbacks with literary-looking covers and titles she didn’t recognise. OK, so your man fancied himself as a bit of intellectual, Leonie figured, rather enjoying building up a mental picture of the owner in this way. She wondered if he was doing the same in return somewhere with her things. She’d hoped not as this sure was a stark contrast to her selection of hastily thrown together selection of mismatched shorts, T-shirts and dresses. And he’d almost certainly turn his nose up at her unashamedly pink-jacketed choice of reading material!
Having checked through one pile of clothes, Leonie shoved them aside and went to start on the other, hoping to find something that would help identify the owner (and therefore the whereabouts) of the ba
g. But as she did, she spotted a small navy box hidden in the centre of the two piles.
Her eyes widened, and as much as she knew she shouldn’t be doing it, she had the box out and open in her hand before she could even think properly about the rights and wrongs. But why would anyone carry a ring in a suitcase and not keep it on them? Hmm. And a very nice ring at that. Expensive too she mused, lifting it out to study in more detail the delicate cluster setting.
Well this was interesting. Whoever this guy was, he was obviously planning on popping the question throughout the course of this holiday and … Then the thought suddenly dawned on Leonie that unlike herself, the owner of this bag wouldn’t just be inconvenienced, but was by now probably up the walls about the mix up. And here she was merrily nosing through his things!
A sudden sharp knock at the door interrupted her thoughts and caused her to jump almost ten feet in the air.
‘Mademoiselle! Mademoiselle!’ an urgent-sounding voice called out from the hallway.
‘Coming!’ The voice was so insistent that Leonie didn’t stop to think before reacting and she went straight to the door to find the hotel porter standing outside.
Alongside him was a tall, frazzled-looking man who held a bag identical to the one lying open on the bed behind Leonie. And unlike the one in her possession, which had half its contents in a heap, her bag looked completely untouched.
She wished with all her heart that the ground would open up and swallow her when the man’s disbelieving gaze moved from the messy pile of clothes on the bed, back to Leonie and the ring box she was still holding in her hand.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ The man gasped, roughly snatching the ring out of Leonie’s tentatively outstretched paw. ‘This isn’t yours!’