‘Right, so who wants more drinks?’ says Tomas.
I agree to have another glass of wine but tell myself that under no circumstances can I get carried away. The next thing I will be telling him how lovely he is, and we can’t be having that when he has the mystical Milena.
Tomas gives us all refills and we clink our glasses together.
‘Merry Christmas,’ says Tomas.
‘Merry Christmas, everyone,’ I say. The image of that Christmas sign swinging back and forth as Craig slammed the door as he left flashes back into my mind. That was the last time I decorated. Now, this is a proper Merry Christmas, unlike back then.
When we finish our drinks, Tomas goes into the kitchen to serve up the food.
Then I hear his mobile ringing. He answers it, speaking in Czech. However, I can only understand the part where he uses the name Milena. As he cuts off the call, he throws his phone down on the worktop. His mood seems to have changed. Albert shouts something in Czech, also throwing in the name Milena.
‘I’ve told him, he needs to stop her,’ says Albert looking at me. It is as though he assumes I know what is going on. Does he think that Tomas has confided something to me? Because I certainly don’t know anything about her, except that I have heard her shouting down the phone.
I shrug my shoulders.
Tomas starts laying the table with the feast that he has prepared. I can see that he is trying to keep a brave face, but he looks upset.
‘Please, let me help you with the plates,’ I say.
‘No, it’s fine. You’re my guest. Please, you relax.’
I feel guilty sitting like a queen while Tomas does all the work. But I figure that perhaps he needs some space in the kitchen. I feel a bit awkward being a stranger brought into this. I hope nobody mentions the Milena word at dinner.
When Tomas puts down the final plate with a huge carp laid out on it, his mood has improved.
‘This looks amazing, Tomas, thank you,’ I say. I try to cheer him up as it looks like both of us have had a problem with someone of the opposite sex on Christmas Eve, although he is probably handling it much better than I did. At least he hasn’t thrown a remote-control car at anyone.
‘You’re welcome. I hope you enjoy your first Czech Christmas Eve and I promise you will have a special day tomorrow too. Cheers,’ says Tomas.
‘Na zdrav!’ says Albert.
Zuzana lifts her glass towards me and also chimes in withNa zdrav.
I lift my glass and attempt to say it, but it comes out nothing like the way they pronounced it. Instead, I stutter over the word. Thankfully, everyone smiles at my ridiculous attempt, and I get that warm feeling of being welcomed into the family yet again. Despite any language barriers, we laugh together all night, and, for the rest of the evening, the name Milena is not mentioned again.
Chapter Sixteen
On Christmas morning, my bed is so snuggly and warm that if I wasn’t looking forward to a day with Tomas and Albert, I probably wouldn’t want to get up.
I stretch my feet across to the other side of the bed and throw my arm onto the pillow beside me. I try to stop thinking about how I wish Tomas, with his dark curls, was lying on that pillow. I don’t even know where the thought comes from. Perhaps my subconscious is trying to tell me something. It appears that all the desires I didn’t allow myself to think about seem to be escaping. I desperately try to shake the image of Tomas before I force myself to get up. I need to get myself ready and suitably wrapped up for a river cruise along the Vltava that Tomas has organised for this morning.
Meanwhile, at the hotel breakfast, the staff are cheerful, and everyone is wishing each other a Merry Christmas. Tinsel is wrapped around a giant ice sculpture of a reindeer on the breakfast buffet, and I treat myself to the ubiquitous Danish pastries and chocolate muffins that are laid out beside it. There is no way I am going for the avocado on wholemeal toast on Christmas Day.
I am still tucking into the feast when Tomas turns up looking for me. We had agreed to meet in reception, but I have been so busy getting carried away with the buffet that I didn’t notice the time.
I offer him a muffin, but he declines. I figure he eats healthier than I do. After all, you don’t get a body with a washboard stomach like he has by eating muffins and pastries for breakfast.
‘How did you sleep?’ asks Tomas politely.
‘Great. Like a log after all that fabulous food I ate last night. Albert is right. You’re such a great cook.’
‘Ah, thank you. I used to be a chef.’
‘Oh, you never told me that before.’
‘I studied food science at uni in Cardiff, but I enjoyed being hands-on in the kitchen. I like making people happy with good, nutritious food.’
