“You don’t have any spare clothes in there, do you?” she asked from behind him.
“Not unless you want to wear lens cleaner wipes.”
She rewrapped the scarf around her waist to make it into a skirt and slipped his shirt on. It was way too big but if she knotted the ends below her midriff, she would be almost decent.
“You can turn around now,” she told him.
He slung his bag over his shoulder with the strap diagonally across his body before turning to face her.
“I hate to say this, but you make it work.” His eyes travelled over her improvised clothes as he adjusted the camera bag more securely in front of his hips. “Nice Wellies.”
She’d worn her red Wellies which she’d painted with purple flowers.
Purple flowers to match her underwear. She really, really hoped he hadn’t seen that. Although by the way he kept the camera bag strategically in front of him, he probably had seen more than enough.
She had read about this in her studies. Anxiety, when induced in animals and humans by a threat to survival, was characterised by increased arousal. She couldn’t blame him. She herself was feeling a heightened level of awareness and tension as they both stood alone in the echoing stone chamber of a long-abandoned castle
The part of her that always thought up one-liners, came up with: Who needs oysters and champagne? Fear of drowning should be on every romantic dinner menu.
A gust of wind from the window blew her hair over her face. She swept it all in both hands and started braiding it in a loose plat to keep it from blowing all around her like a fan.
“Hi.” He coughed nervously and offered her his hand to shake. “I’m Gabriel.”
She was busy braiding her hair and didn’t take his hand. “Gabriel? Like the angel?”
“If only.”
“You want to be an angel?”
“Since angels have wings.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “We wouldn’t have had so much trouble.”
“Nice to meet you, Gabriel.” She finally shook his hand.
“I, um.” He looked around. “I think I owe you lunch. Actually, I owe you a lot more, but we can start with lunch?”
“Do you want to catch up to the walking tour? I think they were planning to stop for lunch somewhere. On the other side of the cliffs.”
“Uh… no.” He hesitated. “This is embarrassing, but I’m still a bit jelly-kneed after the…” He glanced at the window.
She tossed her plat behind her back. “I have a car. But don’t you want to take pictures of the birds?”
“No, I’m thinking of giving up photography.”
“How come?”
“There’s this young lady who threatened to kick me in the balls if I took anymore.”
A bubble of laughter burst from her. Yep. Definitely anxiety leading to a heightened sense of excitement.
“So,” he said. “Lunch?”
Two
They decided to go to Tenby. The charming seaside village hadn’t been included in the tour itinerary, but both of them wanted to see it. First, though, Gabriel insisted on finding a clothes shop so he could replace Pierre’s lost clothes. Unfortunately, this being Sunday, nothing was open except cafés and tea shops. In the end he found a souvenir gift shop selling sleeveless t-shirts. Pierre assured him the Welsh dragon across the front went well with her scarf-turned-skirt. He bought one for himself too.
Wearing their matching dragon shirts, they settled on a small café in a converted caravan by the beach. Inside, they found a corner table near the heater.
“Can I ask you something?” Pierre settled into the corner chair near a postcard stand.
