Page 62 of Old Girls Go Greek
Will would be back in a minute. I needed to hurry.
I had another quick poke about with clumsy fingers and after a few seconds, the toothpick snapped off. As Will reappeared, heading back towards the table, I realised to my horror that the situation had worsened and I now had most of a cocktail stick sticking out into my lip from between my teeth.
I covered my mouth with my hand and looked up at him with a frozen expression as he sat down.
‘Something wrong?’ he said.
‘Sort of,’ I admitted, lisping slightly.
He bent his head towards me.
‘I’ve got half a cocktail stick stuck between my teeth and I can’t get it out.’
He bit back a smile.
‘Can you get it out with another one?’
I had a sudden horrible vision of myself, ending the evening with a veritable forest of sticks protruding from the front of my mouth, or failing that, strapped onto an ambulance gurney being taken to a hospital with a fit of hysterics.
I took a deep breath. Okay, I could do this. I would not let this spoil the evening.
I grabbed a few more cocktail sticks and hurried back downstairs to the ladies’ loo, where I spent an embarrassing few minutes prodding, wincing and delving until eventually, with my head spinning and gums aching, I managed to dislodge it. And the fishbone too, which of course was actually so tiny as to be practically invisible to the naked eye.
I swilled out my mouth with a handful of tap water and spat it out with a loud exclamation of relief, which sounded like an angrygaah. At that moment the same woman who had seen me airing my tongue earlier on the staircase appeared in the doorway, gave me a slightly frightened look and backed out again.
‘Yassou!’ I said, trying to look normal and unthreatening. ‘Hello!’
Then as she edged back in, I gave an embarrassed smile and looked away. At least the burning had gone. I glanced at myself in the mirror over the sink. Yes, my mascara had run so one eye had a sort of sad clown dollop underneath it. I grabbed a paper towel and cleaned myself up, wishing not for the first time that I was more elegant, more sophisticated and less of a klutz.
‘Everything okay?’ Will said when I returned.
‘Fine,’ I said with a bright smile. ‘Sorry about that.’
I grabbed my wine and took a good, reviving slurp. It really was delicious even though probably half my tastebuds weren’t working properly and never would again.
‘So now then, dessert?’ he said.
I felt a wash of relief and affection for him at that moment. Just as he had done when I fell over on the gravelly beach, he was going to tactfully ignore what had happened. It didn’t matter; his kind eyes were saying,It could happen to anyone.
Yes, but why did these things happen to me? That was twice we had been out together and on both occasions I had embarrassed myself.
‘What about sorbet,’ he said, ‘if your mouth is a bit tender. Although healing is always quick. It’s surprising. The mouth heals up faster than anywhere else.’
‘Ideal,’ I said, ‘and I’m so sorry.’
‘You don’t have to apologise,’ he said. ‘Lemon, mango and raspberry? Would that be nice?’
‘Perfect,’ I said, finishing off my wine. Immediately, our waiter was back to top up my glass. Perhaps I should take it easy. At this moment I felt I was capable of anything, and a good slug of wine wasn’t really going to help.
What with one thing and another it had been a strange evening, and yet, it didn’t feel as though he was going to call Hector back early so that we could go home.
‘And then some Greek coffee?’
‘Yes please.’
All this dodging around was irritating and getting increasingly difficult. I needed to remember the snippets of information he had let slip without knowing the full picture. And I liked him, and I wanted to understand him better than I did. Perhaps I would take the bull by the horns and say something.
I waited until my dessert had been delivered, a beautiful glass bowl with three scoops of delicately coloured sorbets and decorated with fresh mint leaves, and then I looked across the table at him.
