Just then the sun came through the clouds and flooded through the window.
“Shall we finish this and go for a walk by the seafront?” he asked.
For answer, she slid from behind the table, straightened her skirt-scarf and reached inside her shoulder bag for her money.
He had already placed a debit card on the table refusing to let her so much as leave a tip. He just ushered her in front of him and out into the warm spring sunshine.
Tenby had several small beaches around the curve of the land. Two hours later, they had made it round all four of them and back again. Any question of catching up with the tour was long forgotten. She didn’t care, and by the easy smile on Gabriel’s face, he didn’t want to rush back either.
“You don’t want to take pictures of this?” She waved a hand at the families sitting on the sand, kids and dogs running around chasing balls.
“Too many holiday makers,” he said. “It breaks the illusion.”
They had strolled back to the harbour by then and climbed up on the harbour wall to walk out into the sea.
“This is so pretty; we should have music.” She touched her phone absentmindedly.
He held out a hand and she unlocked the screen and gave it to him. It had opened on her iTunes library, her most recent playlist already cued.
“What’s this?” he touched a fingertip to the song making it play. Unfortunately, the noise all around them made it impossible to hear properly.
“Here,” She handed him her earbuds, plugging the lead into the side of her phone.
He listened while they walked side by side towards the end of the pier.
“What is it?” he asked again.
He liked the song; she could tell by the way his voice had softened.
"Siúil a Rún, by Clannad. It’s a traditional Irish love song.”
“It sounds rather sad for a love song.”
“The best love songsaresad,” she said.
He gave her a quizzical look. “That’s a rather grim point of view in one as young as you.”
“Yes, grandpa,” she answered with a cheeky grin making him laugh. “Of all the sad love songs this is my latest favourite.”
“In this case, I’m being selfish listening alone.” He passed her one of the earbuds so they could share then touched the screen and repeated the song. “Can you translate?”
The melody came through gentle and sweet. “It’s about a woman whose love goes to war, and she sits on a hill and cries for him. She dreams of him coming back.”
His arm occasionally brushing hers as they walked very close, bound by the earphone lead.
“You know, earlier,” he said when the song came to an end. “When you said you were waiting to find your dream?”
“Yes?”
“I don’t know what mine is either.”
“But…?” she prompted because something in his tone told her he was thinking.
“But one thing I’d love to do is create visual fairy tales.”
“You mean like the Rapunzel pictures from earlier?”
“Not quite. They were good, but I meant something more.” He turned his head to gaze out at the horizon where the sea met the sky. The sun was already halfway across to the west.
