“It’s fine with me! I think it would be a nice change to be honest, rather than finding out about someone on the first date and realising that the conversation is going to be awkward and a stretch before you even get your starters.”
“Wouldn’t you get a dessert instead of a starter?” She opened her mouth in pretend disbelief at his question. The alcohol was wearing off now but there was just enough left in her system for her inhibitions to be somewhat lower than usual.
“Uh, why wouldn’t you get a starter AND a dessert? Who said we’re choosing between the two?” James looked relieved at her response.
“Oh thank god! I was hoping you’d say that! The number of dates I’ve been on where I want to get a starter and dessert and I either get ‘oh I’m saving myself for a pudding’ or ‘no dessert for me’ and it’s not like you can say ‘well you’ll just have to wait until I’ve had my sticky toffee pudding with custard then’.”
“That’s my favourite dessert!” Iris said, not bothering to contain her excitement.
“Really?” James seemed surprised.
“Yes! Or treacle tart and custard. Basically, if it comes with custard, I probably love it.” James laughed and Iris noticed faint creases around his eyes. She started to wonder how old he was. Not that the uniform adds 10 years or anything but she’d not spent a lot of time looking at his face before now.
“I’m pretty much the same but I cannot stand meringue. I don’t know what it is about it but it’s just such a disappointment.”
“I feel exactly the same!” Iris laughs. “What’s your position on edible flowers?”
“What’s the point of them?! Who looked at a cake and thought, ‘I know what that’s missing, some petals!’?”
“Yes! Thank you!” Iris chuckled.
“How do you feel about cheese?” James asked, giving her a serious look.
“Cheese?” She asked, surprised.
“Don’t say you don’t like it?”
“I don’t like it when there’s no option of a cheese plate after dessert if that’s what you mean?” James burst out laughing.
“Perfect answer. Literally couldn’t have said it better myself.”
“How old are you? If you don’t mind me asking?” He seemed slightly taken aback by the question.
“Oh, uh, 36. Why do you ask?”
“No reason, just curious. And I now realise that was a rapid change in the subject!”
“Yeah, it kind of was! And what about you?”
“You mean you haven’t already looked me up on your police databases?”
“Should I have? You’re not a wanted criminal, are you?”
“I mean, obviously! That’s why I had to flee the country before our date, so you wouldn’t catch on.” Iris winked through the phone at him as a cheeky grin spread across her face.
“In all seriousness though, that’s pretty much a sackable offence, so I wouldn’t look you up. I’ll have to find out the information I want from you the old-fashioned way.”
“Oh, really?” She said in a sultry tone.
“Yep, it’s an interrogation all the way I’m afraid.” Iris bit her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing and realised when she saw her picture in the corner of the screen that, actually, it also made her look quite sexy.
“Well, ask away.” She said, keeping the sultry tone in her voice.
“So, how old are you?” He asked.
“Guess.”
“It’s not polite to guess at a lady’s age!”
“It’s not polite to ask how old a lady is but you’ve already done that! I’m not making this interrogation easy for you!”
“Ok, let me think, if I guess too high, you’ll think I think you look old but if I guess too young, you’re either going to be pleased with my answer or think I have a thing for women much younger than me.”
“You’ve got yourself into a bit of a mess there haven’t you?” She smiled at him.
“It seems I have done, yes. But it’s almost as if you’re enjoying watching me squirm.”
“Oh, how the tables have turned officer. Now who’s making who sweat?”
“Thankfully with this interrogation I can pretend I have tech issues and hang up if I get myself into too much trouble!”
“Haha, that’s not fair! So, are you going to guess?”
“I’m afraid not. Can’t risk it.” Iris did an overdramatic sigh and put her free hand on her hip, the other still holding her phone.
“I’m 29.”
“I was going to go with 30 to be on the safe side so I’m happy my judgement isn’t too far off. Does an age gap bother you?”
“It’s only 7 years, it’s not an age gap I would consider an issue. And it looks like you still have all your own hair and teeth so I should be ok.”
“Ah, I actually don’t have all my own teeth.” He divulged.
“Really?” Said Iris, a bit taken aback.
“This one is an implant.” He said, pointing to one of his molars. “It was knocked out a few years ago.”
“What, on the job?”
“No, rough game of rugby.”
“Oh, ok. Do you still play?”
“Yeah, when I can. It depends on shift patterns though. And with the dogs, you can be called to special assignments at short notice so I’m usually on the bench.”
“That makes sense. What position do you play?”
“I alternate between a second row and hooker. Mostly second row though as a hooker is more of a specialised player.”
“Yeah, the game can’t flow that well if you can’t scrum because you’ve got no number 2.”
“You follow rugby?” He sounded surprised and intrigued at the same time.
“I watch the international matches but nothing at a lower level. I don’t have time. I try to catch all the six nations matches though.”
“Me too but I usually end up recording the matches. I try to watch the England ones live when I can. So the news doesn’t ruin the result for me!”
“Yeah, it’s much better to find out they’ve lost to the superior teams as it happens.”
“You don’t support England?” He said, surprised.
“Why would I? I’m not English.” He gave her a quizzical look.
“Oh, I just assumed because of the accent.”
“I grew up in the South West but I’m from Wales originally.”
“So you’re from Wales but grew up in the South West and now you live in Windsor?”
“Yep, you got it.”
“Oh, wow, I wasn’t expecting that. Why all the moves?”
“We moved for my parents work originally and then I moved again for University and work.”
“Didn’t want to go back home?” he asked.
“I don’t really feel like any of those places are home in all honesty. I don’t have any friends or family left in Wales now and I lost touch with all my school friends when I left for university. It’s been 13 years since I left school and most people either did what I did and left or they live sad supermarket council house lives with 6 kids and a habit to support.”
“That’s a very specific way of putting it.” He said with an air of laughter in his voice.
“It’s a very true way of putting it for some people I thought were my friends.” He nodded in agreement.
“I can understand that. So, what about now? Do you feel at home in Windsor?”
“I do actually, even though I live alone and have no friends! Oh god, I sound so boring. Are you sure you want that date?” She asked, only half-joking.
“I definitely do. I’m just surprised that you have no friends. I can’t imagine that being true.”
“I’m full of surprises me.” She shrugged.
“So it would appear.” He took a deep breath. “Can I ask you something?”
“Isn’t that a question in itself?” She smiled at him through the phone.
“You got me there.” He said as he tilted his head to one side.
“Yeah, sure, go ahead. I can always choose not to answer.”
“That’s very true.” There was a pregnant pause. “Why are you still single?”
“What makes you ask?” She wondered aloud.
“From what I know about you so far, you seem amazing and I don’t understand why you’re not married. Or at least seeing someone.”
“It’s the serial killer thing. It’s too messy for most people.” She smiled at him as he snorted with laughter involuntarily.
“Honestly?” He asked.
“Honestly? I find it hard to connect with other people romantically. Part of me feels like the build-up is exciting but ultimately all just a waste of time if it doesn’t go anywhere and part of me finds it hard to trust. And, inevitably I guess, some of it comes from my dad dying when I was so young. I guess I’m afraid of loving someone else and them leaving me as abruptly as he did. I’m just a bundle of trust issues and daddy issues, the ultimate single woman cliché unfortunately. And I happen to hate clichés ” She said with a shrug, not meeting his gaze.
“I don’t think it’s a cliché. It’s a valid way to feel. Especially if your dad died when you were young. That’s a difficult loss to deal with at any age but children, teenagers especially, struggle to deal with their emotions at a time like that. Hell, everyone struggles with their emotions at a time like that.”
“Have you been trained in grief counselling or something?” She said with a half-smile.
“Yeah kind of. I was a handler for a cadaver dog first so I had to be able to speak to families when we’d found a body. I couldn’t cope with all the death after a while, so I transferred to drugs, money and explosives.”
“Oh wow, that’s… morbid? Is that the right word?”
“Yeah cadaver dogs aren’t exactly all fun and games and training them isn’t a walk in the park either.”
“Oh, I don’t even want to think about that!” She scrunched up her face and closed her eyes momentarily.
“Haha no, it’s not first date conversation really.”
“This isn’t a first date, though.” She quickly replied.
“So, what is this then?”
“A conversation. An investigation into the potential compatibility of two people.” She offered. “Does it have to be a thing? Can we not just talk and see what happens? I’m looking forward to our date but between now and then I appreciate the option of being able to just talk and get to know you.”
“Me too. I’m all for no pressure conversations.” He replied, a slow smile spreading across his face.
“Good because in all honesty I don’t have a lot of friends in general and if, for whatever reason, we’re not romantically compatible, I think it would be nice if we were friends.”
“Good because I’m always happy to have more friends.” He smiled at her and she smiled back.
“That sounds nice.”
“I have to be up early in the morning but can I call you tomorrow?” He said.
“Of course. I’ll let you know when I’m back in the hotel.”
They said their goodbyes and then he hung up. She pulled her t-shirt over her head and threw it across the room in the general direction of her suitcase. She’d pick it up from the floor tomorrow. Just as she got comfortable with all the pillows, her phone beeped. She sighed as she rolled over to get it from where she’d left it on the bedside table. It was a text from James.
‘It was great talking to you tonight. I really enjoyed our video call. I’m not sure if you meant for your t-shirt to be partly see-through or not but I appreciated it all the same. Speak soon x’
“Oh shit!” Iris unintentionally said out loud. She hadn’t realised that her t-shirt was see-through. It must have been the combination of not wearing a bra and the glow of her phone screen. She debated what to say in her reply for a minute but then decided against replying at all right now. She’d sleep on it and reply in the morning.
Chapter 22
Iris met Luca again the next day in the little café not far from his house. He had done some more research into where they need to go, to which part of Greece and where they could find the records they were looking for, if any still existed.
“Wow, you have been busy! All I’ve done today is eat gelato for breakfast again.” She confessed. He laughed and shook his head.
“How can you eat gelato for breakfast? What are you now going to eat after lunch?”
“Gelato again probably.” She smiled and he laughed.
“Let’s order lunch and see what happens.” Luca passed Iris a menu and signalled to the waitress. It was a different woman to yesterday.
Once they’d ordered he began to tell Iris that the boat they were talking about yesterday seemed to be from a town called Igoumenitsa.
“It’s a small town in the north-west of Greece with an easy enough route to Venice by boat. It’s a big passenger port now but in the past, it was very different. It used to be called Grava, which made my search take slightly longer as I didn’t know the name had changed and couldn’t understand why I couldn’t find records before the 1930s. But once I found it, I found a few interesting things that would make travelling to Greece potentially worthwhile.”
“Like what?” Iris asked.
“There are more ships and trade routes to explore for a start and it would be interesting to know what our ancestors traded and where. The ships will be a good starting point as usually things like that have lots of records and who knows what I’ll find following up on each ship and its trade route.”
“So, not very much to go on, but you’re hopeful?” Luca smiled at Iris.
“Ok yes, I’m just hoping that something will come of it but finding something like this from so far in the past is a big deal in genealogy and history, in general, to be fair.”
“Ok. Let me see what I can find out about Igoumenitsa.” Iris said as she got her phone out of her pocket.
Their lunch arrived and Iris started absentmindedly eating chips while she scrolled on her phone.
She quickly found out that Igoumenitsa is not a straightforward place to travel to from where they were in Italy. It was two hours on the train to Ciampino Airport and then an hour and a half flight from Rome to Corfu, then an hour and a half ferry to Igoumenitsa. She explained this to Luca and he simply replied with “It is what it is.” And a shrug. Iris rolled her eyes and continued making their travel plans.
“Ok, so I’ve booked the flight. We leave tomorrow morning. I’ve looked at the ferry and it leaves once an hour so I don’t need to book that. I’ve found somewhere to stay in Igoumenitsa and booked two single rooms at a hotel near the records office.”
“Wow, that didn’t take you very long!” Luca said, surprised at Iris’ apparent efficiency.
“It’s not my first rodeo, as they say.”
“I thought that was an American expression?” Luca asked.
“It is but it’s crossed over to British English over the years.”
“Huh, I didn’t know that. Ok, so what time do we leave tomorrow?”
“The flight is at 11:30am so we need to be at the airport around 9:30am, which means we need to take the first train out of Bracciano at 7am to make sure we get there in time. I need your passport details before I can check us in online.”
“When we’ve finished eating, we’ll go to my house and I can find my passport for you. I’ll need it for tomorrow anyway!”
“Great. Then I can check us in. I need to buy the train tickets. Is it worth doing that in advance?”
“No, we’ll just get them in the morning from the station.” Luca said, matter of factly.
“Ok, so I’ll meet you at the station at what? 6:30am?”
“Oh so early!” Luca pulled a mock pouty face at her and she laughed. “I can be ready and waiting at 6:30 in the morning. On a Wednesday. When I’m not even going to work.”
“I’m technically on holiday!” Iris said with feigned protest.
“Oh, that definitely makes it even w
orse if you’re getting up at 6.30am when you’re already ON holiday.”
“I’ll be meeting you at 6.30! I have to get up at about 5am to be ready!”
“Yes, definitely worse! But it is all your fault for starting all this.” Luca said and they both laughed.
They finished their lunch and headed to Luca’s house to get his passport. They walked the few minutes back to the house in relative silence. When they got to the big old front door, Luca took the old metal key from his pocket and put it in the lock. The door creaked open and Luca stepped inside. He invited Iris in and she accepted. The nerves she felt before at the idea of going inside a stranger’s house, for lack of a better word, didn't come this time. Luca showed her to what she would call a classic Mediterranean kitchen with cream and terracotta colours, tiled floor and wooden cupboard doors. In the corner of the kitchen sat a small square wooden table that perfectly matched the colour of the cupboards.
Luca motioned towards the table with one hand and Iris moved towards the table, taking a seat in the very corner of the room.
"Can I get you a drink?" Luca asked.
"Oh, yeah, please. A cold drink, please." Luca grabbed a glass from the cupboard and moved across to the fridge freezer. He grabbed a handful of ice cube from the freezer and dropped them into the glass. "I have some lemonade? Or wine?"
"The lemonade would be great." She replied.
"Sure." He grabbed the can from the fridge and placed it on the table in front of her, along with the glass.
"I'll go find my passport." he said, "I might be a few minutes."
"That's okay, I can wait." She said with a smile.
"If you need to use the facilities, they're up the stairs one floor, first door on the left."
"Uh, thanks."
He disappeared upstairs, leaving Iris alone in the kitchen to pour her drink. Iris wondered what the rest of the house looked like. Did it have the same old school Mediterranean vibe as the kitchen or was it ultra-modern and minimalist like Iris had imagined it would be?
After 10 minutes, Iris started to wonder where Luca has gone and how much longer he would be. She decided to go upstairs to the toilet and have a nose around while she was there. She headed up the stairs and used the bathroom first. It wasn’t minimalist or ultra-modern, just a standard white suite and dark blue tiles. She finished in the bathroom and closed the door behind her. She stood in the hallway, debating whether to snoop around while she was up there or go back down to the kitchen. None of the doors off the hallway were open, so she didn't know what she'd find if she did take a look around. While she stood at the top of the stairs, debating what to do, she heard a loud thud from the floor above her, and then Luca saying something in Italian she didn't understand. She decided to go upstairs to see if he was okay. As she got to the top of the next flight of stairs, Luca appeared from the room to the right. She explained she'd heard a noise and wanted to make sure he was okay.
The Bedside Cabinet: The Cabinet Mystery Book 1 Page 9