“As long as it doesn’t involve kicking me in a place God intended to be treated nicely.” He winked at her as he took his seat.
“Who is the lady you wanted me to call if you drowned, Eve?”
“My sister.” His face softened.
“Thank God you didn’t drown. I would have hated to make that call.”
“Me, too. What with being dead and all.”
She laughed, “And the boys?”
“My nephews, Paul, Matthew, and Luke.”
“How biblical.”
“My grandfather was a vicar and collected religious names like stamps. It must have filtered down to us. Even my sister married a Joseph.”
“Better than Ezekiel.” She laughed.
“Or Barnabas.”
“Judas.” They were almost racing each other to the next name.
“Moses.”
Everything was making them laugh. Being frightened seemed to have opened her up and lifted her mood.
It also gave her an appetite, and when the waitress came to take their order, she was still debating. “How large are your quiches?”
“It’s a mini quiche,” said the waitress. “But it comes with salad and crisps.”
“That means a thimble of trendy egg custard and a lettuce garnish,” Gabriel said. “I’m going to need a lot more.”
“Me, too,” Pierre agreed. “What with pulling heavy men out of the sea and all,” she said, echoing his earlier words.
“Why don’t you try The Hungry Welshman?” the waitress suggested. “It’s a sharing platter of grilled sandwiches, pies, salad and Welsh teacakes.”
“Sold.” Gabriel closed his menu then looked to Pierre.
“Me, too. But can we get the tea and Welsh cakes first?”
“Tea for me too, and toast; I can’t have sweet things before savoury.” He handed his menu back to the waitress.
Her stomach growled at the thought of hot buttered bread. “Forget the Welsh cakes for now. Toast for me, too.”
“Hunger is making us both inarticulate.” He scrunched his face when they were alone. “We must have said ‘me, too’ seven times already.”
“We didn’t even ask what sandwiches they were. They could be something horribly Welsh.”
He lifted his eyebrows in question.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Stuffed dragon breast. Or …” She searched her memory. “What’s that thing Dylan Thomas mentioned?Llareggub Hill?I always imagined a hill with something called Llareggubs growing on it.”
“Sounds revolting.” He pulled a face. “We’re very trusting.”
“Well, you certainly are very trusting. Telling me your camera kit was expensive, I could have stolen it all.”
His eyes travelled over her face and hair. The braid lay over one shoulder, down to her waist. She was still wearing his shirt loosely over the dragon tee shirt.
