I found my arm moving under its own steam, and it slipped around his waist to return the hug.

“I am so glad. She looks happy, my friend”

“Caroline, I think she is. She was very unhealthy in the hospital, very sick. The surgeon… I nearly had no daughter, so now I must treasure her, treasure each day. Now, I think, with the cold weather here, she should choose a hat, one with many colours. Please, while I see to my girl”

His arm had stayed over my shoulders, and as he pulled away, his other hand squeezed my own as it sat on his waist, and then he pulled away and started the serious business of hat selection. Priorities, indeed. Once we had sorted her headwear, I led them back to the bus station, pointing out the railway station across the road for their future trips to London.

A we rode back to my place, I explained the plans for the following day.

“I have to work tomorrow, just the morning and from very early, as a favour for my managers to pay for my time off. There are things for breakfast in the house, and I will show you how the television and music centre work when we get home. Does Rita like Pixar?”

Pablo was sitting with her across the aisle from me. And he tapped her on the shoulder, while still talking to me.

“Ask her yourself. She has more English now”

“Rita?”

“Si? Yes?”

“Do you like to watch videos?”

“Videos?”

“Movies”

“Ah! Yes. The cartoon?”

“Do you want to watch some tonight?”

I had one in mind, and as she nodded, I was working out where it was in the stack in my living room. Single woman, minimal social life. Of course I had a major proportion of Hollywood’s soppiest output.

We had already eaten, more than once, so I made a pot of tea, opening one of the cokes I had picked up the day before, and three of us, Rita in the centre, squeezed onto the sofa to watch ‘Monsters, Inc’, which gave me another surprise when Pablo showed me where the Spanish subtitles were.

By eight in the evening, both were nearly asleep, so I pushed them up the stairs after dragging down my own bedding and nightwear. I did my teeth and stuff in the kitchen sink, and then crawled into my own truckle bed, elated and confused in equal measure.

I slipped out in the early morning, leaving a note confirming my time of return, only the slightest of doubts pricking me about leaving all of my possessions in the hands of two near-strangers, and rode the bus back to the airport for three-quarters of a shift to pay back that favour from the management. Both Lauren and Haley were on their day off, so I escaped a grilling, which was a relief, but I was still twitchy with worry.

I needn’t have worried, of course. The two of them were slumped against each other on my sofa, ‘Despicable Me 2’ on the video, and there was a smell, or perhaps an aroma.

“Pablo?”

“Ah! Do you mind? You wrote for us what time you would return, and so I left Rita in the house to open the door, and I have food for us”

“I can smell it! Fish and chips?”

“I saw the shop from the bus, so I went in time for your return, so we must eat now. That is your work uniform?”

“Yes. As you can see, they make us wear a lot of cosmetics, to sell them to the passengers. I always… I always feel a little silly”

Rita leant forward to see past him, and shook her head.

“You look pretty! Is nice!”

Teenage girl and make-up, oh dear.

“I must get out of this uniform, and then a shower”

Pablo shook his own head.

“Shower after the food. Something simple for avoiding the grease, but eat first”

Sod it. I slipped into pyjamas, dressing gown and slippers before rejoining them and wolfing down the large cod he had purchased, along with half of the chips. I was going to end up like a whale at that rate, never mind a cod. Rita was giggling away at the video, and Pablo just looked stunned. Realisation hit me.

“Pablo?”

“Yes?”

“How much have you had to eat?”

“I wanted to taste many things”

“How much?”

“Too much!”

I couldn’t help it, and burst out laughing, till tears were flowing.

“You are supposed to be the sensible one!”

He gave me a seriously shamefaced look, and with a small shock, I realised that this was Pablo feeling vulnerable, almost for the first time with me. I decided to back off, just a little.

“Then it is a light meal for this evening, my friend. I have salad stuff in the fridge, so that’s the plan”

“How far is the place we are going?”

“Ten minutes, on foot. There’s a bar, if you like”

“Then I may sleep for an hour or two!

“No”

“I beg your pardon?”

“No sleep, Pablo. After the flight, and then whatever you have managed to force down, you will feel awful. I want you to enjoy this. What does Rita want to do?”

He smiled again.

“Watch your videos, of course! She thinks she has entered Paradise, and has made a list of titles she wishes to see. Do you have a plan for yourself?”

“Me? What I said: shower, chill for a bit and then get ready for the evening. I am actually looking forward to this--- it’s been a while since I went out for music”

“You don’t include the times in my country?”

“This is my country, so I am only talking about that for now. Are you going to sit with Rita?”

“I thought I might walk for a while, to make the meal move a little. There are birds about”

“Bit they are… Ah. They are all new to you, aren’t they?”

“Exactly. A first day, in a new land?”

“Then there is a small park nearby. I can find you a street map, and if you want, you can borrow a guide book and some bins?”

“Bins?”

“Binoculars. Take your walk, then. Rita can relax, I will shower, and then we can head out together. Will she want a shower or anything?”

He nodded.

“I think she wants to dress well for tonight. She says that she will be her best for her friend”

I felt my heart lurch, but froze the smile on my face, and sent Pablo on his way with a book, a pair of bins and a sneaky hug. I spent longer than normal in my shower, and then an even longer time staring into my wardrobe.

Necklines. Visible bra. Hemlines. Et bloody cetera. To my surprise, Rita walked into the bedroom, stared at me as I stood in my bra and knickers, and then pointed at a pale blue summer dress.

“Papa, he like you. Please be pretty for him”

I stared at her, and she shrugged in as expressive a manner as Laurent had ever achieved.

“My Mama, si? New times. You are nice lady, and Papa happy”

Her mouth twisted, and she dropped her eyes for a second.

“English, I try. Not good. But I try”

I stared at her, trying to read what she meant, and then decided to try what Spanish I could find,

“Tu Papa?”

“Si?”

“Y mio?”

“Si!”

I fumbled for some words.

“Tu papa, um, vorrei, um, mio?”

She shook her head at that, then stared hard at me before muttering something under her breath, then proclaiming something else that sounded like “Si! Tu y mi Papa muy bueno!”

I realised that she was doing her best, both in what English she had as well as in deliberately dumbed-down Spanish, and if half of what I read from her words was true… I pulled the summer dress from the hanger, and to further encouragement from a child, I made myself look like a clown.

That was how it felt, but throughout the process, Rita was beside me, and as I applied the various colours to my face, she was matching me, and occasionally steering me in a different direction. In the end, I lost track of time, and it was only the sound of the front door bell that brought me back to reality.

Pablo. Concert. Dressed and made up in a way--- fuck it. Rita was happy, or so she said. I made my way downstairs, in the heels I had worn for that evening in Cuba. As Pablo set my bird book and little binoculars on the sideboard, I deliberately looked him up and down.

“You’ll be fine like that. Let’s get going”

It was a fine early evening, for once, and I wore nothing but a cardigan over my shoulders, although I made sure I was carrying my coat. Rita made a point of walking on the other side of me to her father, and, with a grin, linked her arm with mine. She called across to Pablo in rapid Spanish, and, a lot more reluctantly, he took my other arm. More quickfire Spanish from Rita, and I managed to catch the sense of it when both of them started trying to match their steps to mine, like some three-legged race with extras.

Suddenly, Pablo stopped dead. He was looking and pointing upwards.

“What is that hawk?”

“Where… Oh. Sparrowhawk, Accipiter something. See the wingbeats, flap-flap-glide, flap-flap-glide?”

“Thank you!”

He was chuckling then, and as I turned to look at him, I found his head lowered, eyes crinkling.

“The first British bird you have shown me, Caroline!”

“It’s a really common one”

“And what was it you said to me when I said the same thing by the water on that first day?”

“Well…”

“Do they sell drinks, alcoholic, at this venue?”

“Absolutely”

“Then we shall celebrate my first bird from a friend. Andiamos!”

I was a little twitchy as we crossed the car park, just in case there was anyone I knew to see my get-up, and he picked up on my nerves.

“You look fine, and it is a celebration now, so smiles, yes? This is the bar? What would you like?”

“I don’t think they will have the makings of a mojito, so a dry white wine, please. Not dressed for drinking a pint of beer, am I?”

Rita and I found a corner to wait while Pablo went to the bar, and I was doing my best to explain some of the posters for upcoming events when there was a polite “Excuse me” from behind me. I turned, to see a familiar face. She smiled, eyes flicking quickly to Rita.

“I hope I’m not intruding, but I recognised you. Caroline, isn’t it? Duty-free shop?”

I nodded.

“You’re Customs, aren’t you?”

She laughed, happily.

“They keep changing the name, but yes, that’s me. Steph Woodruff. Him indoors is over there with Annie and her men. Sorry to be nosy, but I didn’t realise you had a kid of your own”

“Oh no; this is Rita, daughter of a friend. They’re visiting for a while, from Cuba”

“That’ll be the tall man at the bar, then”

Did she see everything going on round her? I realised it must be a side-effect of her job, and let it lie.

“Yes. Pablo. Rita, un amigo—amiga? Un amiga, my trabajo, si? Mrs Woodruff”

The girl held out a hand, and Steph said something in reasonably quick Spanish, or at least what sounded like it. A few quick exchanges, and Steph turned back to me, eyes a little harder.

“Not wanting to speak out of turn, Caroline, but, well, we both know we are riding on the same bus. This girl, and she says her English is poor, used a word to describe you, one I won’t repeat, that says you are a lot more than an ordinary friend of her father. Not my business, but please be careful. No MMD crap”

“MMD?”

She put on a whiny voice.

“Oh, my man’s different! He doesn’t just want a passport, and the thirty year age gap doesn’t matter, cause he LURVES me!”

A flat stare, then a smile.

“I watched you walk in, woman, and just this once, I don’t think so. Does he, well, know?”

I understood exactly what she meant, and shook my head.

“I don’t think so. Don’t know, really”

“Then be doubly careful. Here…”

She scribbled a quick note and handed it to me.

“Name and address, if you get any issues, or just need an ear to bend. Your maybe man is just coming… Hi! I work with Caroline, I’m Steph. How are you liking Crawley so far?”

Pablo grinned, and this time it was a cheeky one.

“I am Pablo, and you have met my daughter Rita. How do I like Crawley? I am looking forward to getting out of it!”

“That bad, eh?”

“Not like that--- Caroline has promised to show me some places for birdwatching. We have plans”

“Ooh! I am also a birdwatcher. We shall definitely compare notes, woman. Now, I have a herd to round up, and then it’s Steeleye. You might find them a little strange, Pablo”

“My daughter loves them. She has a disc from Caroline here. She really likes the violin”

There was a sudden gleam in Steph’s eyes.

“Hmmm. We shall definitely have to find somewhere for that. See you later!”

She was off, and I was even more nervous. ‘MMD’? Was that me? So gullible there was even a TLA for it? I took the glass from his hand and drank half of it in one gulp. Smile, girl.

“We are up in the high seats, Pablo, and central, so it would be polite to be there early, so that folk don’t have to squeeze past us. Once we have finished these?”

“Okay. We are in your hands”

As if. He set the empty glasses on the bar, and we made our way vis lift and stairs to the seats, Pablo leading us along the row to the seats I had indicated. I waited for Rita to follow, and she simply pushed me forward. Once again, I would be in the middle. I settled my coat onto my lap, hands folded together on top, and Rita reached across to take my left hand, and then her head came to rest on my shoulder as she squeezed my fingers, then a whisper of “Thank you, Caroline”

She straightened up again, but her hand stayed there. Pablo saw, and reached across with his left to squeeze his daughter’s hand as it held my own. We sat like that for a while, and then, as the house lights went down, she reached across with her other hand and moved his to my spare one. Oh hell.

His hand lay on mine like a limp fish for a few seconds, and I waited for him to remove it. It stayed there, and I turned a little to see his face, guess his thoughts. All he did was raise his eyebrows in obvious query, and, heart rate soaring, I gave a little nod, and his hand moved, to take mine properly.

On came the group, and I caught Rita’s gasp as she saw the youth of the fiddler. I whispered to her something about the musician, and got the reply “She so pretty as well!”, and then Steeleye launched into ‘Dodgy Bastards’. As they finished that first song, and Maddy called out “Good evening Crawley!”, we applauded, and then settled back in our seats. Once again, two hands took my own. Not just politeness, then.

They worked through a clutch of newer stuff, promoting whichever album they had out, and then switched to the older stuff most of us die-hard fans had come for. It wasn’t all fifty-year-old stuff by any means, because they had a habit of coming up with a new ‘standard’ every year or so, and as the ‘Da-daah’ opening chords of a particular song snarled out, her hand tightened briefly on mine.

The group did their stuff, Maddy’s almost ethereal take on the opening vocals floating above the nastiness of the instrumental parts, and then she did her own very individual thing to damn the ‘Gardener’ of the title. In between… I am not a musician, but I have some technical knowledge of the process, and as the young fiddler finished wailing away, and the band held the tune, she swapped her wooden violin for an electric one, and I was off with her, almost finding my old life as a rocker, but now without the beard. Oh, it was good!

There were other favourites, of course, from ‘Alison Gross’ through ‘Thomas the Rhymer’, and when Maddy introduced the final encore with “Oh, you all know the words already, so I can save a bit of my breath”, I was away. It isn’t a classic song in any real sense, but it is a happy one, with a chorus that is so easy to belt out, and if ever there was a poster child for ‘feel-good music’--- Enough said.

As the band finally said goodnight, and we rose to pull on jackets and coats, Pablo grinned at me.

“This music tonight, was it for us, or for you, Caroline?”

“Um… does it matter?”

He called past me, more rapid Spanish to Rita, and she just threw back her head, eyes closed and a broad grin in place, and made little fist-pumps, before replying in even quicker Spanish, and I gathered the clear impression that she was absolutely delighted. Down the stairs to the lift, and out into the lobby, where people were gathering for a last drink, or a first, but either way, a drink. Pablo pointed to the bar.

“White wine again?”

“Not now! Pint of the summer ale, this time. Just ask for the Gold”

He joined the scrum, and as if by design, I found Steph Woodruff and her little group with me.

“What did Rita think, then? Rita? Bueno?”

The girl rattled off some comment or other, and I caught the word ‘Gardener’ in the middle of it all. The dark-haired woman standing by Steph was nodding in agreement.

“Steph would have been playing that with her, given the chance, aye? Just even more over the top”

She was looking at me, though, and I realised that Mrs Woodruff must have brought her up to speed. She held out a hand.

“Annie Johnson, and yes, same bus, as Steph puts it. Where is he?”

She caught herself, tried a smile and shook her head.

“Sorry. Work habits die hard. Try again, Annie… you still smiling, Caroline?”

I couldn’t stop the answer that burst out, which was the simple statement that I was, and more than I had been earlier, and Annie nodded, with a much softer smile.

“Yeah, Hairy here and me, we understand that bit. Thing is, we understand the other stuff as well, so here’s my number to go with Steph’s. Any issues, I have more than a few contacts”

“Why the concern? You don’t know me”

“Doesn’t matter. Random waifs and strays Are Us, sort of. Geoff and Eric are pumping him at the bar, so I’ll wave at them to let him go. Anyway, they have our pints, aye?”

Three men and an older teenager joined us, Pablo passing me and Rita our refreshments, and there was a quick round of introductions to husbands and son, and it was noticeable that both of the former settled immediately into comfortable and physical contact with their other halves. That was possibly the cue that had Rita cuddling up to me, and then…

Pablo’s arm slipped round my waist, above Rita’s own hand, and it was public, and I was trying my best not to show the nerves that were screaming at me.

Smile. Concentrate on the cool refreshment of the ale. Try and ignore the two warmth resting on each hip. Left arm laid over Rita’s shoulder, that’s companionable, and she’s a kid, so it’s safe, and my right hand is holding my drink, so it’s not me doing the cuddling. I got through the jokes and the comments on musical technique, especially from Steph, who turned out to be a violinist herself, and then the five of them were gone, along with my pint. I separated from my two companions, pulling on my coat, then led us from the hall, the air suddenly chill against my cheeks,

Definitely no beard anymore.

We straightened into line abreast as we left the car park, and first Rita, then Pablo, took a hand, so that we were joined as a chain of three, linked in warmth. We walked like that all the way back to the house, where Rita simply pulled me to her, kissed my cheek, and with a quick Spanish version of ‘good night’, went upstairs to her room.

I stood for a while, simply staring at the door to the hallway, then turned back to Pablo.

“What are we doing, my friend? Sorry to spoil the mood, but I am someone… I am not used to this sort of thing. I have no complaints, but, well. I don’t know what I should do now”

As I looked at him, I knew exactly what it was I wanted to do, which would have involved some seriously energetic activity, but how would he react? He must realise, surely? What would he feel?

Please let it not be disgust.