Page 12 of The Wedding Proposal
She actually looked alarmed. ‘Are there really sharks in the Med?’
‘Only a few, because they’ve been over-fished. There hasn’t been a shark attack in decades.’ He picked up his wallet and tucked it in the back pocket of his board shorts, trying not to read anything into the fact that she didn’t seem to care for the idea of him swimming with sharks. ‘Forget the sharks, let’s go get a drink on neutral ground. We can discuss the rules of engagement.’
Finally, her expression relaxed. ‘I could go for a glass of wine.’
They locked the boat and he led the way along to the promenade. As well as the shore moorings, boats were dotted right across the creek on swing moorings in the marine equivalent of a car park. Leisure craft in white and navy bobbed beside rowing boats. Fishing boats in traditional combinations of blue, yellow and red sported eyes on each side of their prows to ward off evil. On the other side of the creek craft nestled in cradles at Manoel Boatyard.
Elle looked content as she drank it all in. In an effort to have at least one conversation not filled with barbs, Lucas made like a tour guide. ‘Further along is where the ferries leave from. They sail round the island, around the harbours, or over to the sister islands of Gozo and Comino. You’ll be offered tickets every time you pass.’
‘I’d love to do some cruises. On a calm day.’ She tipped back her hat so that she could look at him under the brim.
His breath caught at the blueness of her eyes. ‘Are you going to have time for sightseeing?’ She’d mentioned something to do with a charity as well as working for the StJohns.
‘If I don’t, I’m going to be very upset. The whole idea of travel is to see stuff and enjoy it, so I intend to have a couple of days off every week. Simon told me to go on the open-top bus tours but that sounds really touristy.’
He stepped aside to let a family pass, her arm brushing his, warm and distracting. ‘But you do see a lot of the island in one day.’
The Ta’ Xbiex waterfront became the Sliema waterfront, and the heat of the afternoon radiated up around their bare ankles as they wove between statues and pocket gardens, kiosks and bus stops. When they reached the stand for the water taxi he bought two tickets.
She hovered. ‘Are we going somewhere?’
‘I thought we could buzz across to Valletta. See that cafe? It’s a nice place for a beer.’ He pointed across the water to a huddle of bright yellow umbrellas, the fortifications of Valletta rising like stone curtains behind.
Her eyes sparkled, lighter and brighter than the sea. ‘My first cruise.’
The Maltese skipper pulled the little white-hulled water taxi closer to the side, holding on to one of the struts of the yellow canopy. ‘Madam. Sinjur. Please board carefully.’
Lucas followed Elle as she negotiated two steps down into the bobbing craft and settled herself on the cushions of a bench seat at the back. Two passengers were seated already: tourists, looking pink and hot. A small Maltese family followed; the skipper clambered into the helm seat and a man emerged from the ticket stand to cast them off, calling to the skipper in Maltese.
With a rumble, the boat edged away from the quay, and then swooped around to face Valletta. The engine note rose as they began to accelerate, bouncing over the wake of a large cabin cruiser making its way down the deep channel.
The sun was still strong, drawing patterns on the water, prompting Lucas to put on his sunglasses. From behind their black lenses he could watch Elle as she took off her hat, turned her face towards their destination and let her blonde hair dance in the wind.
Her hair had only brushed her shoulders last time he’d seen her. Now it was long down her back and she had to catch it into a tail and hold on to it so that she could gaze at the pointed shape of Fort Manoel, like a stone ship about to plough the waves, as they left behind the jumble of modern buildings that was Sliema. Before them, the citadel of Valletta rose, its aged stone buildings studded by gallerija, the enclosed balconies common on the island.
It was only minutes before the boat turned to present itself to a different concrete dock and Elle swayed against him with the motion, her skin feeling hotter than the sun. With an apologetic glance, she edged away.
The road into Valletta rose steeply to the right, but they crossed to the cafe only a few yards away.
‘Every table with a sea view.’ Elle dropped into a chair beneath a yellow umbrella, raking her hair with her fingers until it ran like gold over one shoulder as she smiled at the young waiter who appeared at their table. He looked dazzled as he took their drinks order.
Elle’s gaze followed him as he crossed the road to the restaurant building. ‘They must have to carry trays across all the time.’
‘They do, but it’s a small road. It really just comes to the two restaurants here, a few boats and the water taxies and ferries.’
‘You seem to know your way around.’
‘I was here last year for several weeks, with Simon. As soon as I left I wanted to come back.’
In the shade she’d discarded her hat and sunglasses and he was able to see the shadow that crossed her face. ‘So we both want to be in Malta. You’re right that we need to talk about how we’re going to . . . c-coexist.’ She stumbled over the final word.
Live together he supplied, silently. They used to live together. He recalled the excitement of making the decision that she’d give up her flat and move into his house on the outskirts of Northampton. Getting used to her things around, buying a new bed because she’d joked that his old one was probably high mileage. He’d known she’d been joking but he’d changed the bed even though Elle didn’t seem to do jealousy. No, that was all Lucas’s thing.
And, fuck, it was still eating at him that she’d never really told him everything about Ricky.
Unreasonably nettled by the realisation, instead of opening a sensible discussion about how they were going to ‘coexist’, he heard himself demand, ‘Why were you always so weird over talking about your ex?’
Apprehension flitted into her eyes. ‘What’s he got to do with anything now?’ She laced her fingers together.
