Good. This is fine. No need to panic.
Why didn’t we have a briefing session on what to do in this situation? I stare at Gus, wide-eyed. But he laughs, sitting back.
“Oh, I see. You think I’m that guy from the band.”
“You are!”
He shakes his head, amused. “Nah. Sorry mate, I just look like him. I get this all the bloody time. It’s so funny. I’m actually here with my wife. We’re exploring Croatia.”
Not the wife thing again. Nobody is going to buy this. And besides, I’m the worst actress on Earth.
I let my face do the talking. Gus holds his hand out to me, a questioning grin on his face. I want to shake my head, but then again, I also don’t want him to get noticed. If he gets swarmed by fans, then there’s not a chance we’ll make it to the boat in time.
I drop my hand into his gently. His fingers wind with mine, twisting so that I’m nudged even closer towards him.
“My daughter is in love with this man,” the taxi driver says, pointing at his phone where the album cover is displayed.
There’s a glint in Gus’s eye. “Ah really? I think the guy singing now is the one who looks like me actually.”
I take too much interest in the song. There’s a scratchy sort of depth to it that’s kind of sexy.
Ok, fine.So, Icanunderstand why girls go crazy for it.
Once we arrive outside Old Town, the driver pulls into the taxi drop-off and I open my phone to access my wallet app so I can pay. Except I can’t. Because once again my phone is dead.
Bollocks.
“Shit,” I say. “Did we have any of that cash left?”
Gus blinks at me. “No, we used it on the coffee this morning. Why?”
“My phone is dead. Do you have any way of paying?”
“No, I…”
“You can’t pay?” the driver asks, twisting in his seat.
“I’msosorry. My phone’s died. It’s beentheworst day.” I regret to admit I consider using one of my old university tricks for a free ride and flash a tit, but luckily, he comes up with a solution before the words find my tongue.
“You are, Gus. You are,” he says, pointing at the subject. “You sign this t-shirt, and I let you go.”
“I’m really not…” Gus starts but one glance at me and whatever my face is portraying (horrified exasperation), has him nodding. “Alright. Yeah. You got me.” He laughs. “IamGus from Just4Summer.”
“My daughter has poster of you all over house. You are him. I am not dumb.”
“I’m sorry. I’m trying to stay undercover. Alright, you’ve got a deal. You have a pen?”
The man fishes around in his glove box and produces a red biro. He then proceeds to pull his t-shirt off, leaving us with the view of his hairy bare chest. So at least one of us got our tits out.
“Write it to Adriana. Say you love her,” he says, pointing at Gus – almost intimidatingly. Although he gives me a smile, gesturing with his hands. “Obviously his love is only for you. But you’ll spare him this one time. Yes?”
I shrug. “Oh, sure. Love to share.”
The corners of Gus’s lips fidget again as he gets to work signing the shit out of that sweaty white polo top.
Once he’s done, the man shakes his hand and we’re flying back out the doors and through the main streets of Old Town. Gus puts his hat and sunglasses back on as we push through tour groups and busy queues that clog the pathways. It’s busy, hot and extraordinarily beautiful. A slice of me, as I pant desperately towards our destination, weeps at missing the chance to see it properly. Maybe I can come back one day.
Neatly-kept limestone buildings with pretty, shuttered windows surround us as we charge down the main street towards the bell tower. The paved road is uneven and so spotless it’s almost slippery in these sandals. When I glance to the sides, distracted by its beauty, I see fascinating side streets practically brimming with history and quaint little businesses. My heart snaps – I want to explore this city almost more than getting back on the cruise.
