‘You must have moved on fairly quickly to already have aone-word ex-wife. What happened there?’ I asked, to give me some thinking time and deflect the conversation. I needed to absorb this new information. That time in my life was such a blur.
‘A silly and, as it turned out, very expensive mistake. Financially and emotionally. Victoria was my first official client at Engelman, and she was a junior as well, the pair of us were just starting our careers when we met. I was convinced she was the love of my life, but I was wrong. We were engaged, married and divorced in three years.’
He looked so forlorn, I was sorry I’d asked. I wasn’t doing very well on the conversation front here.
‘Wow. That’s very… efficient.’
‘Incredibly efficient. A word synonymous with true love,’ Leo said with an eye roll. ‘How about you? Married? Kids?’
I bristled. ‘No. No weddings so far. Or children.’
‘Anywhere close?’
It was a casual enough question, and no more intrusive than mine, but I felt a sadness in my gut, which caught me by surprise. The answer was easy enough; it was a straight no, but it felt like an admission of failure somehow. I’d never been anywhere close to having a significant other oranythingother for myself – even my flat was rented. I’d been to friends’ engagement parties and weddings and now we were onto the christenings, but I’d never had anyof those celebrations myself. Just the birthday parties as I got older, and older. I had no problem landing a man; I could reel one in every day, twice a day if I needed to. But holding on to them was a different story and I’d learnt to like it that way. It was long enough to uncover their quirks (issues), preferences (kinks) and skeletons (crimes) and then I could move on to someone new. I’d learnt to enjoy men in quarterly bursts and then let them go.
‘Not really. I still feel too young for anything serious,’ I said, brushing the question away.
He frowned. ‘What are you, thirty-five?’
‘Thirty-four. Which is the new twenty-four, right? I’m barely out of education.’
He laughed. ‘That’s one way to look at it. Old enough to be married with fourteen-year-old twins is another.’
I gave a strangled chortle. He was right of course, but no need to say it out loud. ‘Have you been talking to my nan?’
‘I find it interesting to think about the possible paths. That generation – our grans – would have finished having children at our age. It’s all a matter of perspective.’
‘That generation also ate lard on toast and took it in turns to use the bath water, so excuse me for not living my life by their rules.’
‘Garrafeira for you,senhor, and another for your beautiful lady with our compliments.’ Ricardo set down two glasses of ruby-red liquid and two espressos. ‘Our finest port, aged in wooden barrels – we call it a “vintage tawny” –
and it is very famous for its delicious, syrupy taste.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, giving it a sniff and burning my nose hair. Jesus, this was strong.
‘And your bill.’ Ricardo placed it between us and Leo snatched it up, scribbled his signature and handed it back with a fifty euro note.
‘Let me…’ I started.
‘Absolutely not. It can go on my room.’
Ricardo glanced between the two of us confused, presumably thinking Leo’s room and my room were surely one and the same for our anniversary break. He settled on a smile. ‘Obrigado.’
Leo gently swirled his glass. ‘Cheers,’ he said, holding it up. ‘Here’s to making the most of a bad situation.’
‘The very most,’ I replied, looking up at the blanket of stars and the beautiful full moon. ‘We’re lucky aren’t we?’
‘Yeah, we could be queuing for the all-you-can-eat-buffet under pitch pressure.’ A swathe of fairy lights glowed behind Leo’s head, and it looked like he was wearing a halo. Saint Leonard, himself. Or Leonardo, or Leon. How strange to have been thrown back together like this. We clinked glasses, and took a large swig, then both nearly choked.
‘Eurghhh!What the hell?’
‘That’ll clear out the cobwebs,’ he said, with a shudder.
‘Detonate the spiders, more like. It’s not like any syrup I’ve ever tasted, and it smells like meth.’
We looked at each other in disgust, then Leo started laughing.
‘Your face!’ he said, doing an impression of me then laughing again. The sound took me back to our time working together; it was so joyous and familiar. He was right, we’d had a right laugh when we’d been work buddies. It was Engelman that had moved the goal posts on the job and it wasn’t Leo’s fault they’d chosen him. I just hadn’tbeen able to stomach the rejection. It was easier to hide away.
