‘I came to see how Eliza is. And to see you.’
‘At this hour?’
‘It’s only eight o’clock.’ He raises an eyebrow.
‘You could have phoned,’ I suggest.
‘That’s true, but I misplaced my phone. Turns out I left it on the boat, I have just been to retrieve it,’ he explains. ‘As I was passing, I thought I would call in.’
I tell him all about Eliza and how Phoebe is willing to put the past behind them.
‘Then something good has come out of it.’ He smiles. ‘I am pleased to hear it.’
We stand in the hallway for a moment, my senses stirred by his closeness and I pull my short cotton robe around me tightly.
‘I sent you a message earlier, but maybe you didn’t see it as you didn’t have your phone,’ I tell him.
He takes a second to reply, and I bite my lip anxiously, wondering if dinner at my place really was a bad idea.
‘I didn’t see the message, I am so sorry,’ he says, scrolling through his phone, frowning slightly. ‘I would love to have dinner with you,’ he says, and I am surprised at how relieved I feel.
‘Great.’ I feel excited by the thought of him spending the evening here.
‘And please, let me know if there is anything I can do,’ he says.
‘I will do.’
‘Right, well I am off to meet my father at the bar. I will call you tomorrow. Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight, Dimitri.’ There is no kiss, even on the cheek.
It’s now almost one in the morning, me having tossed and turned for hours, when I decide to call the hospital. It appears Eliza is just out of surgery, and her operation has gone well. I call Phoebe, because I can still see her lights are on, and give her the news.
‘Thank you, Claudia. Now I will sleep.’
‘Me too. Goodnight.’
The next morning I retrieve the recipe book from the drawer and head off to the supermarket to buy the ingredients for the evening meal. It’s a lamb casserole, flavoured with star anise, and I also have a recipe for flatbread using only flour and Greek yoghurt.
As I load my shopping basket, I feel a thrill at the thought of Dimitri dining in my house this evening. Maybe we can really talk, aside from building talk, that is. I choose a bottle each of ared and white wine. At least I can have a lie-in tomorrow, before my flight the day after.
I manage to gather all of the ingredients, and also pop in a couple of magazines for Eliza that Phoebe can take with her when she visits with Thea later today.
Back home, I arrange the ingredients in a pot, and set it on the stove to simmer, before giving everywhere a tidy. Once my house preparations are done, I spend the afternoon in the sunshine, tidying up the garden.
I head up for a leisurely bath, and light a candle in the lounge to ready myself. By the time Dimitri arrives just after seven, the room is filled with the welcoming scent of vanilla from the melting wax, and the delicious casserole.
‘Something smells good,’ he says as I welcome him inside. He’s dressed in long dark shorts and an apricot-coloured polo shirt. His hair is loose and he smells wonderful, as always.
‘Do you mean the cooking or the candle?’
I feel inexplicably nervous welcoming him into my home as it feels so intimate somehow.
‘The cooking, I think. Is there a hint of cinnamon? Oh, but wait, I am getting vanilla now,’ he says as we make our way to the lounge. He hands me a bottle of ouzo and I thank him, but tell him I will probably stick with wine.
‘Maybe a good idea to have just one shot. People have been known to do foolish things after a few of those.’ His eyes meet mine, and I rush off to the kitchen to check on the food and do a little taste. It needs more herbs, so I throw in a load of cinnamon and replace the lid.
‘So how is Eliza doing?’ asks Dimitri as I pour him a glass of red wine.
