Page 45 of Atticus Arnott's Great Adventure
Atticus was about to say that he was fine andhad everything he needed, but Clara’s voice suddenly whispered in his ear.
Let the old man out! Ask her out!
Atticus stared into Britta’s eyes and suddenly felt foolish. Of course he couldn’t ask this woman out; he didn’t even know her.
‘More toast or coffee?’ Britta asked.
Enough! You’ve faced worse things than asking a woman out!
‘Will you have a drink or a meal with me?’ Atticus blurted out.
Britta took a step back and he saw that she was surprised.
‘I don’t think so…’ Britta said.
‘No, of course not.’ Atticus shook his head. He felt stupid. What on earth had possessed him to ask such a question? A woman like this would never glance his way – she was younger than him, Atticus guessed, maybe fifty or so.
‘I don’t know you,’ she said.
‘But you will get to know me if you come out with me.’ Atticus swallowed. What the hell was he doing, making such a fool of himself? Clutching at straws, he bumbled on, ‘I am staying at Solma Vacaciones, and I’m from England. I live on a farm.’
‘Oh,’ Britta replied.
‘My name is Atticus Arnott and…’ Atticus dried up. What was the use? Britta probably had a boyfriend, husband, or partner like Cheryl and Ruby.
‘Atticus?’
‘Aye… Terrible name, but I’m stuck with it.’
‘I think it’s a good name,’ Britta said with a smile, before moving away to continue taking orders.
‘Well, Clara, I messed that up,’ Atticus mumbled and felt a flush creep across his face.
What on earth was he thinking?Britta must get asked out all the time, and she’d never look at someone like him. He began to eat his breakfast, despite his appetite disappearing, and, forking a sausage, handed it to Ness.
When his plate was almost empty, Atticus pushed it away and drained the last of his coffee. As he prepared to leave, Britta appeared, placed his bill down, and began to clear the table.
‘I am free later tomorrow after my lunchtime shift,’ she said. ‘You could call for me at about four o’clock?’ Britta smiled. ‘I live in the cottage a little further down. It’s called Casita del Mar – the little sea cottage.’
‘Casita… del… Mar?’ Atticus slowly repeated the words.
‘Yes.’
‘You mean… you’ll have a bite to eat with me?’
‘Yes.’
‘Aye. Great. I’ll be there.’
‘See you tomorrow, cowboy,’ Britta laughed, nodding at his hat on the table before turning away.
Stunned, Atticus fumbled for euros as he watched her move away. He looked down at Ness. ‘What’s going on?’ he whispered. ‘Oh, hell, Ness, what onearth have I done?’
Britta watched Atticus leave the café. As he descended the steps to the beach, he paused to remove his sandals and unclip the dog from its lead. She hesitated. She could still call after him, say she was sorry, that she’d remembered another engagement – a harmless excuse, an easy way out. But something about him made her linger. His eyes were kind, his smile disarmingly warm. When she accepted his invitation, she’d seen genuine surprise and pleasure on his face. It had been so long since a man had looked at her without an unsettling feeling lurking beneath his interest.
But doubt gnawed at her.Should she take a chance?
Britta wasn’t reckless or impulsive; she liked the predictability of her quiet life. And yet… what would be the harm in spending a couple of hours with Atticus? She exhaled, forcing herself to ignore her caution. It was just a bite to eat and conversation. A better way to pass the time than sitting on the patio of her cottage, staring at an empty canvas and willing inspiration to strike.
