He sat down on the sofa, waving an arm for me to join him, but keeping a judicious distance between us.

“Please, Caroline. A little talk, I think”

As I sat, I watched him turn his gaze away, towards my stack of DVDs.

“So much. Such short time. My head, it is spinning, I think is the English wording. What is your thought about Rita?”

“She is wonderful, Pablo. You should be proud of her”

He sighed.

“She is in love, Caroline, in love with you. Not that way, no; she likes the boys. No: she sees the tall lady who dances with her father, who sends her music in the hospital when she is nearly dying. The woman who smiles at me. What could be more natural than for me to follow her path?”

I nodded.

“And what does her father think, then?”

“Her father? He is uncertain. He sees… Caroline, may I talk freely?”

“I think that is sort of the point here, Pablo”

“Yes. I suppose it is. Your bathroom, I looked in the little box with the mirrors on the front”

“The bathroom cabinet”

“Yes. The cabinet. I was seeking toothpaste. You have medication, my friend”

Oh, fuck.

“Ah”

“I had wondered, from the first day. You are so tall and slim in, well, the behind?”

“I don’t have a fat arse? Thank you, I suppose”

His gaze was now fully on me.

“We both know my thoughts here”

“Yes”

“Yes you know my thoughts?”

“Yes, I think you have things right. I am sorry, Pablo. If you feel you can no longer stay, I will understand”

He muttered something in Spanish that sounded pithy, then turned to me.

“It is not just Rita that has found the fairy tale, Caroline. You are constant in what you do”

He shook his head, then smiled again, a skewed one.

“I think I may have the wrong word. Not always wanting, but always the same person”

“Consistent”

“I thank you. Consistent. You do not ask, you do not request. You are just open in the hand and, I believe, in the heart. I had wondered… we, men in the towns around the tourist places, we see women who come, older women, and they look for the younger men, they make promises”

I couldn’t help bursting out laughing, and he sat bolt upright as I waved at him, trying to get an apology out, fighting the snorts until the words were there.

“I am not laughing at you! It is just that my friends, Steph and Annie?”

“The tall woman with the red hair?”

“Yes, her. They were warning me about men who do that! They wanted me to be wary of younger men who are after an escape from the country, a new passport, all by claiming to love older women”

He stared at me, mouth slightly open, then fell victim to his own laughter.

“Really? We are both frightened of the same chimaera?”

“It seems so, but there is still the other thing”

“Yes, there is. That thing… I must sleep, but I think, what your friends cared about, I think that is an end to some of my concern. The other matter, I think I know where my mind goes, but not tonight. Too much discussion, too quickly”

He rose, and I followed, trying to guess which way ‘his mind’ was going, and he stepped forward to hug me, his cheek against mine. He pulled back a little, so I could see his smile.

“Thank you, my friend. I think, now, that I know who you are”

He kissed me, a gentle peck on my lips, and then he was gone through the door to the stairs. I stood listening as his tread went up to the bedroom, then started to get ready for bed. Once under the covers, I couldn’t relax, turning and shifting position through the night, waiting for the clock to tick through enough hours to make it worth getting up once more.

As is so often the case, sleep mugged me just when I thought it a lost cause, and I woke to golden sunshine burnishing the edges of my curtains. What bloody time… nine thirty? Shit! There was a soft murmur of voices from the kitchen, and as I pulled on my dressing gown, I finger-combed my hair into some sort of order before opening the door. The two of them were sat by the kitchen window, looking out into my postage stamp of a back garden, a bird book open on the sill. I realised they were watching whatever little visitors were at my bird feeder.

“Good morning Caroline! We see the birds Papa and me!”

“Morning, Rita. Breakfast? Desayuno?”

Pablo looked over his shoulder.

“We had cornflakes, and the toast and marmalade. What is the difference in English between the two, marmalade and jam?”

“I think it’s that one is citrus fruit, but then there’s lemon curd, and… Short answer? Don’t really know. What are your plans today? When do you plan to go to your embassy?”

“Tomorrow, so I will need to remember the bus to the station”

“Number 100. Only one you need, but going to Redhill. Or just walk down the main road to Three Bridges station, for more trains. Pardon me while I make a pot of tea”

My mouth ran away with me right then, and plans I hadn’t consciously made landed on the table between us as I filled the kettle.

“I had a thought, and that was a trip out by train, if you would like”

“Where would we go?”

“Brighton. Seaside, some bird life, and a funfair on the pier. It’s a nice day out there”

“Swimming?”

That allowed my nerves some respite, for of course I just burst out laughing.

“Not unless you want to freeze off all your extremities! Um, all your fingers and toes. That water is cold-cold-cold. And I have just had another idea. Rita?”

“Si?”

“You like photographs?”

She looked confused, so I turned back to her father.

“I have an old and simple camera, and I am pretty sure I have a spare memory card somewhere. Let Rita make her own choices about photos”

“That would be nice. I think you have only just thought of this plan; am I right?”

“Absolutely! Best sort of plan, in my view”

“Will there be walking?”

“A bit”

“Then perhaps not the heels today”

He was still making jokes, then. I relaxed, just a little, slightly more confident I hadn’t frightened him too much the night before.

“I am off to get changed, have a wash and do my teeth. There are eggs over there, if you want anything else, and if you please remind me, there is a supermarket near Brighton station, and we need some more milk and bread”

‘We’, dear god.

“We go by train?”

“Parking is a sod in Brighton”

Translation: I am not sure if I am fit to drive after that night’s excuse for sleep. I left them to it, Pablo explaining the plan to Rita, and following my ablutions I picked an appropriate wardrobe, which involved trousers that time. If the breeze got up on the coast, I had no intention of flashing my underwear. Not to strangers, anyway--- grow up, woman. After a last cup of tea, I locked up behind the three of us and led the way down to the other station.

Pablo, who sat beside his daughter, shook me awake just as we came through Preston Park confirming my good sense in choosing not to drive, and after we had arrived at our stop, I tried to lead them out of the station. By ‘tried’, I mean that Rita once more turned us into a chain gang, this time by grabbing a hand from each of us and towing hard. I remembered that she was supposed to have been extremely ill, and then just went with her.

The day went as all days do in that city: ambling through the Lanes, gawping at the Pavilion while wondering why it had been built, dodging the traffic on the horrendously busy Kings Road, and staring out to sea from the Doughnut. Rita was fascinated by the sculpture, but I had something else for Pablo.

“Follow me along the top of the shingle”

There is another stone groyne, almost touching the Palace Pier, and often partly covered by shingle, as we approached, he stopped dead.

“The birds, Caroline?”

“Turnstones, or ‘ruddy turnstones’ in international-speak. This is somewhere they come really close”

We got a few more ticks for him, including a (great) cormorant or six, some early winter-plumaged guillemots and an awful lot of herring gulls. I even found him a passing great black-backed gull, and that was Pablo’s boxes ticked. Nicely done, girl. Last bit.

“Time to head up onto the pier, people. Hold your noses as you go in, because the smell is vile”

We had a couple of rides, we played some games, we ate an ice cream each, Rita took our photos at the ‘face through a hole’ mermaid silliness, and we bought some Brighton rock. Nothing unusual, apart from some long minutes spent staring at flocks of gulls hoping for a rarity. A long walk up North St brought us back to the clock tower and the final little climb to my supermarket, Rita chattering away in Spanish to the occasional terse reply from her father. Bread and milk, as planned, and before I headed to the till, I asked Pablo if there was anything else we needed.

I also, quietly, asked him why Rita seemed a little sharp in her tone, and he sighed.

“She wishes to know why we stand apart, Caroline, and… Here. I pay”

He placed two bottles of dry white and a two-litre bottle of Coke into my little wire basket, and headed for the cashier. So much for that little chat. It all went into my equally little rucksack, along with the book and binoculars, and then he insisted on carrying the thing. Up the last bit of road before the station, and then stand uselessly below the huge destination board until we saw a Three Bridges train, Rita cuddled up to me and slipping her father occasional glances.

Once we had a train, she charged on ahead of us, finding four seats free around a table, and with another glare at her father, she sat ostentatiously in one of the aisle seats, her message plain. I shrugged, and turned to Pablo.

“I’ll have the window, then”

As he settled beside me, Rita gave a satisfied nod, and slipped across to her own window spot with a much happier grin. I let my hands fall into my lap as the train pulled away, once more feeling the tug of my need for sleep, and Pablo grunted as my eyes started to close.

“Sit up for a moment, please”

I did as asked, and his arm came down behind me. A half turn, and I was comfortably cradled with my head on his shoulder and my left arm resting across his chest. Oh, Rita, I thought, you are a pushy girl, but there was no way I was going to complain. As I settled down, I heard a clear “Awwwww” from the old woman across the aisle. Her words, my thoughts.

My thoughts must have turned to dreams, because I woke once more at Haywards Heath, mouth like an armpit, and a little lost as to where on Earth I---

I suddenly realised where my hand was, and it was on a very firm thigh. Not dangerously high, certainly not more than a third of the way from knee to crotch, but still on his thigh, and his free hand was on top of my own, I assumed to stop any upward migration of my digits.

“I think we are close to home, Caroline”

“Zat Haywers Hee?”

“Haywards Heath, yes. How mush sleep did you lose last night?”

“Most of it”

“Well, you have slept all the way back”

“Oh hell! Did I snore?”

He grinned.

“Most adorably, with a little squeak. Rita loved it”

Another thought struck me.

“Tell me I didn’t dribble!”

“Rita had Kleenex”

“Oh shit”

“I don’t think you did that”

Rita was giggling at my reaction.

“Papa sleep as well!”

She was waving the little camera I had given her to use, and showing me a picture of the two of us slumped together in our seats, both mouths open and his head reasting on top of mine. I was simultaneously appalled and entranced, and a teasing voice in the back of my mind was gloating about ‘sleeping with a man’. I sat up, trying to get my senses back online before we arrived at our station.

“What are we eating tonight?”

He was almost back to his usual self, it seemed, for I got a rather quirky smile.

“Not fish and chips, please”

“Okay… Do you like Chinese food?”

“I don’t know”

“Then we can talk through a menu when we get in; my local place delivers”

Translation: I am shattered, and slightly footsore, and I really, really don’t want to have to go out again. We ambled down the ramp from the platform at Three Bridges, and up the road to my house, where I decided that propriety could take a running jump, and once again I climbed into pyjamas, dressing gown and fluffy slippers before digging out the menu for the ’New Lotus’, and then spending some not inconsiderable time explaining to Pablo, and through him Rita, exactly what we would be eating. I did play safe, although I ordered a double portion of salt and pepper squid for myself, as it was my treat.

Rita joined me in fashion sense, borrowing a spare towelling robe to wrap herself in, which just left Pablo, who grumbled.

“I sleep in shorts, it would not be polite”

Rita just huffed at that, and joined me as I ferreted through my DVD collection for something family-friendly. To my surprise, her eyes lit up on spotting the boxed set of the ‘Lord of the Rings’ films, and she hurried over to her father to wheedle his permission. I couldn’t actually care what we watched, as long as we did it together, because even the few days I had been putting them up had brought a solid realisation of how lonely I had been.

It was all temporary, and I knew that full well, but just for a while I wasn’t alone. Waking up that morning to voices in the kitchen had been a real lift, and if… Those thoughts again. Focus on the possible, nelson, and seize what is there, rather than pine for what could never be. I settled the video of ‘fellowship’ into the player, and set it going, knowing that at some point I would have to hit ‘Pause’.

As the Hobbits arrived at the ‘Prancing Pony’, the delivery man rang our doorbell. I picked up the bag, took it into the kitchen, and brought out the warmed plates, as Pablo poured two and a half glasses of wine. It wasn’t until we were sat behind my coffee table, trays on laps and spare portions in front of us with the wine, that I caught up with that thought: ‘our’ doorbell?

Sod it. Sod the two of them, as well, because my squid evaporated from the carton. My glass stayed topped up, Rita being switched to coke by her father very early into the evening, and as the food was disposed of, the film continued. Rita had manoeuvred herself onto one end of the sofa, so that she was able to snuggle up to Pablo as the nastier parts arrived, in Moria, which left me on his other side. I left the film running while I cleared the debris into the kitchen to deal with in the morning, then returned to my seat. Rita had her feet curled underneath her, leaning into her father, and so, my heart thundering away, I mirrored her pose on his other side. As my head settled on his shoulder, he stiffened slightly, turning to look at me, his expression unreadable for a moment, and then a slight hint of a smile appeared, and he settled back, an arm over each of us.

Rita ducked down to see past him, and I caught her smiling at me. Her right hand reached across his chest, palm open, and I could read her mind as I took her hand, and we finished the film as three people wrapped comfortably, and comfortingly, together.