‘Don’t you at least want to take a look?’
I jump back onto my Scrooser before Tomas can insist any further.
‘No, it’s fine. It’s very beautiful, but we’d better get back. We only rented these for an hour,’ I say.
I glance back at the jacket one last time. It is rather lovely.
On the way back to the Scrooser rental, Tomas leads me uphill and then further along the streets that have views of the city. Whatever angle I look at this place from, it feels magical. Despite the cold wind hitting my cheeks, I laugh with joy as we whizz about, passing old brownstone buildings and then colourful stonework façades. As we cross a bridge, Tomas shouts at me to look at a hugely asymmetrical contemporary building. It is impossible to miss as it’s so different to the usual baroque and Gothic architecture that I have got used to around here. Its windows appear uneven, and its modern glass façade is incongruous with the rest of Prague. It is certainly a statement piece, with a huge twisted metal structure on top, like some kind of crown. We stop for a moment to look at it.
‘That’s called the Dancing House,’ says Tomas.
‘Wow, it’s fabulous. Is that because the sculpture looks like it’s dancing? I suppose it does, really.’
‘Yup. It’s like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers dancing. Sometimes it’s called “Ginger and Fred” too.’
I smile at Tomas.
‘You know, maybe you should forget the bar. Be a tourist guide instead. Hey, I know what you should do. You should be one of those people who combine food and tourism. You know, like, ride around on a bike with tourists and do some kind of culinary bike tour. Oh my gosh, you must!’
Tomas smiles and grins.
‘Look at you, caring about my career. I already signed the lease, but that’s a brilliant idea. One day, maybe.’
‘Oh, you have to. You’d be so perfect at it.’
‘Come on. Time’s running out. Let’s get these back,’ says Tomas, changing the subject.
Once we return the Scroosers, Tomas suggests we head over to Albert’s to go through more of the letters. I agree that we should probably get through some before my dinner tonight.
When we arrive at Albert’s he seems so happy to see me; he is almost relieved. I begin to wonder if he knows about our tiff yesterday. After all, I did slam the door. Despite having done that, Albert welcomes me and tells me how pleased he is that I have returned. Somehow, I get the feeling that Tomas and Albert chat about everything, including me.
Settled down with our usual coffees in front of us, I look at the next letter from Aunt Grace. This time, it’s dated four months after they last saw each other.
But just as I am about to start on the letter, the intercom buzzes from downstairs. Tomas answers it, and I hear the voice of a woman. He immediately buzzes her in.
‘It’s Milena,’ he says.
‘This woman is no good for you. I’ve told you this so many times,’ says Albert. Since he says this in English, I get the feeling that he is saying it for my sake rather than Tomas’.
Either way, Tomas ignores him as he goes to answer the door. I get up to leave. I don’t want to be here when she walks in despite being unable to hide anywhere at this point. I begin to wonder how big Albert’s wardrobe is.
‘Please don’t leave because of that woman,’ says Albert.
‘No, I must be going anyhow. I booked a medieval dinner for this evening. I don’t know what I was thinking sitting here. I really should start getting ready or it’ll be a bit of a rush.’
Milena walks in as if she has come off a catwalk. She wears skintight pleather leggings and has a fake fur coat wrapped around her. Even if I tried to imagine a beautiful woman as my love rival, I couldn’t have imagined this. She is stunning. She has the darkest long hair, and as much as I search for split ends, there aren’t any. Not even frizz from being out in the cold air. This woman looks as though she has some kind of superpower when it comes to her hair. Either that or Czech hairspray is unbeatable. But I remember what Albert and Tomas have said about her. Maybe she isn’t as perfect inside as she looks on the outside. Still, I feel like shrinking into the wall as she sees me when I attempt to walk past her. It was obvious she couldn’t exactly miss me.
‘Hello.’ I think she may have actually purred that out. Even her voice is as smooth as her locks.
‘Hello, I’m just off.’ I try to smile at her, but she eyes me suspiciously.
‘You don’t have to leave,’ says Tomas.
‘No, I do. I have a dinner and… Well, I’ll let you two catch up.’
I close the door behind me and wonder exactly what they will be catching up on. Has Milena come dead set on mending the remnants of their relationship? This thought hits me right in the solar plexus.
Chapter Nineteen
