Page 48 of Atticus Arnott's Great Adventure
‘Britta. I think she may be Danish or perhaps?—’
‘—Dutch,’ Ruby and Cheryl butted in, stopping Atticus mid-sentence. They exchanged glances.
‘Do you know her?’ he asked.
‘Britta lives in one of the cottages on the beach,’ Cheryl explained. ‘Yes, we know her.’
‘She’s a very private person and keeps to herself,’ Ruby added. ‘We’ve met her when the café puts on a special event for the locals, such as Spanish music or folk festivals, which are popular here.’
‘And we’ve chatted when we’ve had meals there or stopped by for a drink,’ Cheryl said. She turned to Ruby. ‘Do you remember her birthday?’
‘Yes, the café did drinks and tapas for the staff and locals to celebrate Britta’s sixtieth,’ Ruby replied.
‘Sixty?’ Atticus raised his eyebrows. ‘She looks much younger.’
Ruby sat back, her brow furrowed, and absently ran her fingers through her cropped hair while Cheryl pressed her lips together in a thoughtful line.
Minutes ticked by and Atticus wondered what theywere both thinking.Had he done wrong in their eyes? Was dating at his age a crime?Perhaps they thought he was punching above his weight.
‘You think I’ve been foolish,’ Atticus said. ‘I hope I haven’t annoyed you.’
‘Oh, my dear.’ Cheryl leapt up, and Atticus suddenly found himself engulfed by a hot, heaving bosom. ‘A date! I think it’s bloody marvellous.’ She wrapped her arms around him and kissed the top of his head.
‘Nice one.’ Ruby smiled and grabbed his hand in a finger-crunching shake.
‘We’ve never seen Britta with anyone,’ Cheryl said. ‘Not that I’m being nosy, but she doesn’t appear to have a partner or anyone close.’
‘We know of expats and locals who’ve asked her out, but she keeps to herself,’ Ruby said. ‘She likes to paint; you’ll see some of her artwork in the café.’
‘I’ve invited her to our barbecues,’ Cheryl added, ‘but she’s never come to one.’
‘Do you think a meal is too much?’ Atticus asked. ‘Perhaps I should have just asked her for a coffee or a drink.’
‘Nah, she’s a grown-up,’ Ruby said. ‘If things aren’t going well, she can easily make an excuse and walk away. A meal is good.’
When their tostadas arrived, they all took a slice of crusty baguette topped with olive oil, juicy tomatoes, garlic, and melted Manchego cheese.
As they ate, they discussed ‘The Date’.
Cheryl and Ruby debated restaurants. Given that it was a first date, they decided that casual beachside,open-air dining – and nowhere too formal – would set the tone for the couple to relax and get to know each other.
‘Casablanca!’ Cheryl and Ruby said and high-fived.
‘It serves food all day, and the Sunday menu is good,’ Cheryl confirmed with a nod as she licked tomato from the corner of her mouth and flicked crumbs from her ample chest.
Ruby began to give Atticus directions. The restaurant was in Guardamar, a ten-minute drive away. Atticus nodded. He realised he’d have to disconnect Winnie from the electricity and water, so she was ready for the road.
As though reading his mind, Cheryl said, ‘You must take our car.’
‘Oh, no. I couldn’t possibly,’ Atticus shook his head.
‘Don’t be silly, you can’t be dismantling Winnie and have all that mither. Of course you can take the car, can’t she, Ruby?’
Ruby, her mouth full, nodded and waved her hand as though the question needed no answer.
‘You’re insured, aren’t you?’ Cheryl asked.
‘Yes,’ Atticus nodded.
