Gremlins

“He’s not here yet.”

“He will be.”

I breathed heavily, in and out, trying to stay calm. “What if he doesn’t show up?”

“Don’t panic, he will, and I’m very excited for you.”

I turned around on the spot, trying to see across the square, towards where all the busses got in and the crowds heaved and pulsed. I looked up and into the dull yellow glow of the streetlight.

“Hello,” came a voice and I looked down, my eyes catching an almost familiar face.

“He’s here gotta go,” I said all at once and hung up the phone. I breathed one last calming breath. “Hi!” Coulda said something more poetic for a start, but it’ll do.

He came towards me and gave me a hug, a kiss on the cheek. It lingered and I did too, in the warmth of his being.

The stark contrast when we went inside was a relief. The blustering winds and rain ceased and I could smell mulled wine and tapas. The whole place was dark, but not dark and dingy, just dark- romantic even. There were some people at the far end watching Gremlins on a pull down screen. He bought the drinks and we sat nowhere near them. It was peaceful being near the water on this little boat and we talked about nothing and everything and I tried to remember it all.

When he looked away I would look at him- try to take in his face, his eyes, his hands and lips- then he’d look back and I would look away.

Damn this being shy business, it’s too much effort. I kept checking my phone for the time, couldn’t miss my bus, and I felt rude taking my eyes off him even for a few seconds. We did the same thing all evening, talking and drinking just in different places and I stopped checking the time for a while.

I did have to go in the end, and left half a drink that I would have much rather finished, or at least used as an excuse to sit a while longer in the warmth of good conversation.