Lauren
pulled her sunglasses down over her eyes as the sun broke out between pewter
grey clouds. Sipping her drink, she glanced around at the few other people
sitting in the beer garden, trying to pretend it was nearly summer and warmer
than it actually was. She refused to give in and go back inside the quaint 18th
century pub where it was degrees warmer. It was May for heaven’s sake, they
should be sitting outside enjoying sunshine.
Her
gaze caught a tall man coming out into the seating area, he was alone, a pint
of ale in his hand. He wore jeans, a white shirt and a brown leather jacket. He
took the table opposite Lauren’s. Her heart fluttered. She looked away as he
glanced across at her, but she noticed his dark eyes, the clean shaven jaw. A
handsome man. A confident looking man. She was always attracted to that type.
From
the beer garden’s seating area, grass sloped down to the River Avon. Trees
hugged the banks and a few ducks swam in and out of the shallows, brown ducklings
following in their wake. On a much warmer day the scene would be worthy of a
painting. But not today. The sun disappeared again, the clouds were growing
darker.
She
caught the good looking guy from the other table staring at her. She pretended
not to notice. She drank some more of her Pimms and lemonade and sneaked
another glance at the man. He was doing something on his phone, his attention
gone from her and focused on the phone. This irritated her.
She
watched the ducks again, crossing her legs, her foot swinging, showing her
annoyance. The sun disappeared behind a blanket of clouds. Lauren shivered,
slipped off her sunglasses and popped them in her bag.
‘Not
a day for sunglasses, is it?’ The cute guy said.
‘No.’
‘It’s
not a day for sitting out in a Pub’s beer garden either.’
Wishing
she’d brought a warmer jacket than a thin cropped cardigan, she gave him a
cutting glare. ‘I wish summer would hurry up and get here.’
‘It’s
not going to happen today.’ His smile seemed tired, as though it was too much
effort.
‘Not
a lot has happened today!’
The
first spots of rain dropped on them, splatting the table like paint from a
brush.
Lauren
stood at the same time as the man did.
He
waited for her, his eyes soft and kind. ‘I’m sorry.’
She
didn’t answer him.
‘I’ll
make it up to you.’
‘It’s
ruined. You ruined our anniversary.’ She ignored the raindrops that landed
faster now. ‘You promised me you would be home in time. The meal I cooked is in
the bin now. You know I never cook, that’s your job!’
‘I
saw the evidence of it when I got home.’
She
ignored him and pushed past, storming off into the pub, where it was drier and
warmer.
‘Lauren.’
He stood behind her at the bar. ‘I didn’t mean to be gone so long.’
‘Just
one day. One day I wanted you to put me first and the restaurant second.’
‘I
had a few things to sort out.’
She
shrugged and stared down into her drink. ‘Our first anniversary is important
too. You know I don’t like cooking, but I did it for you. I tried, for you. If
you were going to treat this day as nothing special, then I would have too. I could
have done loads of things on my own, like I normally do.’
‘Look
at this.’ He held up his phone for her to see.
‘I’m
not interested.’
‘Please.’
He thrust the phone in front of her face.
She
glanced at the photo, not caring. ‘So?’
‘Look
closely.’
Lauren
peered closer at the photo of the front of a restaurant, in a cobbled street
with huge window boxes of colourful flowers and a curved green awning over the
entrance. ‘Why am I looking at this photo?’
He
grinned. ‘Where is your favourite place in all the world?’
‘Positano,’
she said without hesitation. It was where she had worked as a waitress in the
summer holidays while at university studying archaeology. Every year as soon as
uni broke up for the summer, she’d fly to Italy and beg archaeologists to let her
help them on digs as a volunteer. Then, at night to earn money she’d waitress
in restaurants.
‘That
is a restaurant in Positano,’ her husband told her, still grinning.
She
frowned. ‘And?’
‘What
is your dream?’
She
blinked at the change in topic. ‘My dream?’
‘The
dream you’ve always had. The dream you told me when we first met five years
ago.’
Sighing,
she drank the last of her drink. She remembered the first time she met him at
his family’s Italian restaurant, when he came out to greet some of the customers.
And, because she loved everything Italian, they soon got talking. That night
she told him what her dream was. ‘I wanted to be an archaeologist in Italy.’
‘But
then you met me, and we got married and my career was here, and you settled for
a job at the museum. And you never got to go work in Italy.’
‘What
is this all about?’
‘I
was late today because I was handing in my notice at the restaurant.’
‘What?
Why?’
He
held up the photo on his phone. ‘Because I have bought this restaurant in
Positano. And while I’m running my little restaurant, and working all hours
like I normally do, you will be digging in dirt in Italy, as you’ve always wanted to.’
‘We
are moving to Italy?’ Happiness burst through her. Was he serious?
‘We
are. My anniversary present to you, my darling wife,’ he paused to kiss her,
‘is for you to live out your dream. Happy Anniversary.’
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