Chapter 7
The sun had finally set by the time we arrived at the top floor of the Harvey Nicolas Cafe and Restaurant in the northeast corner of St. Andrews Square. I asked for a balcony seat outside, since it seemed to be turning into such a warm and calm night. The young waitress showed us to a cosy little table for two with more stunning views over the heavily Georgian-themed Edinburgh New Town.
“Wow, this is such a nice place, Ryan. I like it. Is this where you take all the tourist girls you meet on buses?” Alex teased.
I couldn't help but laugh again. The more I got to know this girl the more her feisty sense of humour came fighting to the surface. I liked it a lot.
“Just the ones who talk back me.”
We ordered some food and a bottle of red wine. As I took my first sip from the rather tangy but delicious Bordeaux with a hint of vanilla, Alex reignited our conversation.
“So, where is the best place you've ever travelled to in your whole entire life?”
I had to think long and hard about that. It was such a damn difficult question to answer with so many places to choose from. Budapest, Zadar, Nice, Prague, Paris, Granada. Naxos.
“The best place. That's a tough one.”
“Okay. Put it this way. If you could wake up anywhere in the world tomorrow morning, anywhere at all, where would you wake up?”
“Apart from Edinburgh in the summer...” I grinned, “I would have to say, probably a deserted island somewhere in the Maldives.”
“The Maldives. Nice choice. I would choose Fiji.”
“Wow, can you imagine if we were both granted our wishes at the exact same time, we'd be stranded all alone, on two separate deserted islands on opposite sides of the globe.”
“That actually sounds really sad when you put it like that.”
“You know, if I ever save up enough money to go to the Maldives someday then I am definitely sneaking you into my suitcase and taking you with me.”
“You have never been before?”
“Never. But my younger sister has. Twice now in fact, with her husband. Once on their honeymoon four years ago and then for the second time last year. Based on all the pictures they took, most of the islands seem like paradise on Earth, with their cool, crystal-clear waters and fine, warm, white sands.”
“Mmmm, sounds absolutely delicious.”
Alex took another sip from her wine...
“You know the first time my sister and her husband travelled there, they were able to rent out one of the smaller deserted islands for a few hours and all too themselves too.”
...and nearly spat it back out into the glass. “They rented out an entire island all to themselves? Does your sister own an oil company or something?”
“No,” I snickered. “It's just not as expensive as you think. A little fishing boat drops you off on the island and comes back for you again a few hours later. So on their first trip they took this little homemade time capsule with them out to the island, which contained little bits of memorabilia from their lives since the day they'd met. You know, like wedding pictures, letters to each other from when they were apart during their courting days, receipts and mementos from special dates, their written wedding vows, some sentimental pieces of clothing, gifts, and jewellery.”
“Sounds all very sweet.”
“So they buried this little time capsule on the deserted island before spending the rest of their time doing, well, whatever the hell it is that most newlywed couples tend to do on honeymoon.”
Alex raised her eyebrows and let out a knowing smile.
“So, fast forward to five years later. My sister and her hubby flew back to the Maldives and to the exact, same set of holiday islands. On their first day they decided to head back out to that same little old deserted island once again, but...”
Alex began scrunching her eyes and turned one side of her face, overly dramatically bracing herself for impact.
“Oh no, this sounds like it’s going to be bad but...”
“Kind of, aye. Because when they tried to book the boat trip back to the island again, well, they kind of found out that it wasn't there anymore.”
A mass exodus of confusion spread all over Alex's face.
“The island was not there anymore? How is that even possible? Did it transport itself to another part of the world, or maybe aliens beamed it aboard their spaceship?” Alex replied, getting a little too caught up in her own imagination.
“Yes, Alex. That's right. Aliens beamed the island onto their spaceship just for shits and giggles,” I replied in a dry tone. “What actually happened to the island was this: because of recent global warming and the sea levels progressively rising, the whole island disappeared underneath the sea.”
“Really? Wow, that is bat shit crazy, scary in fact. Is this a true story?”
“Of course, it's a true story. You think I just made this up off the top of my head here for you?” I had to laugh.
“Well, you are the one who wants to be a writer and storyteller, are you not?” continued Alex, teasingly.
“And you are such a cynic.”
“I am not.”
“And at such a ripe, young age too,” I added, moderately shaking my head in mock disapproval for effect. “What the hell happened to your romantic heart and soul? There really is no hope for you, is there my girl?”
Alex shook her head too and adorably scrunched up her nose. I think the first glass of red wine had definitely gone to her head.
“So you have a younger sister?” Alex asked.
“Yeah, and you?”
Alex shook her head again while putting on a jocular, but sad face.
“I am an only child.”
I took this opportunity to playfully lean over the side of our table and give Alex a full, warm hug.
“Oh, you poor baby. Cry into my shoulder and let it all out now, why don't you.”
I kissed her comfortingly on the forehead before pulling away. Alex giggled and we both took another long sip from our glasses.
“So how about your parents? Are they still together? Is it okay to ask?” spoke Alex, a little unsure, but I didn't mind these personal questions in the slightest. It felt refreshing, to tell you the truth, to meet someone with such an interest in other people, a childlike curiosity that I couldn't remember witnessing or experiencing in a long time.
“Yes,” I smiled warmly. “Of course, it's fine to ask, but no, they're not together anymore. My dad passed away a few years back.”
“I am so sorry.”
Alex reached over and took a hold of my hand. I really appreciated the sincere, comforting gesture.
“Don't be, it's cool. I never get the chance to talk about it that much anyway.”
“How did he come to pass?”
I deliberately paused to take another sip from my wine. Jesus, I really hadn't thought about my father in such a long time. I felt a little bad over the fact too as the memories and grief of his passing came flooding back like it was only yesterday.
“It was leukaemia that took him,” I finally spoke. “It's funny because he was so fit and healthy at the time. Still keeping his shape from his army days like the good, strict soldier he was, and was only in his late forties too, when it happened. Never smoked a day in his life, never a heavy drinker, then boom! He got sick and never recovered.”
Alex started rubbing my arm up and down, in a soothing manner.
“The crazy thing is that he did beat the leukaemia. He was a good fighter like that, you see. But it was the remission that killed him. He was left with such a weak immune system that even catching a cold in those crucial stages of recovery could kill him and that's exactly what happened; killed by a common cold.”
“I am so sorry.”
I touched Alex's hand upon my arm and held it. I gave her a warm smile and she returned the gesture. After a brief moment I broke our hold.
“So how about your parents? Are they still together?”
Alex sat a little deeper back in her chair. I could tell right away by the long, grim look on her face that she'd lost one of her parents too, maybe both.
“It is just me and my mother now. My father also died, but right after my eleventh birthday, so I never really had the time to get to know him so well.”
“Shit. I'm sorry to hear that Alex. And he was the one who told you all about Edinburgh and the famous Bobby.”
“Yes. My father, you see, was a transport ship captain and a very stubborn and argumentative alcoholic, so not a good combination. And to this day I really cannot remember a time, during my childhood, when I saw him without a drink in his hand. But even though he frequently fought with my mother throughout my childhood, he loved me dearly and for that I will always be grateful. I have no memory of him ever raising his voice or hand to me, ever. Just his warm, loving hugs and big, friendly smiles every time he saw me.”
Rapidly, that huge and bright, beaming smile, that I had come to adore so much, returned to Alex's face.
“I remember how he would always bring me different sweets and chocolates and toys back home with him, from all of his journeys and sailing adventures to so many different countries all around the world.”
Alex continued to smile, still deep in thought.
“How did he die? Was it through sailing?”
Alex let out a deep sigh, shaking her head with a half-hearted chuckle.
“I only wish it was such a glorious death as that of a brave captain who went down with his ship, but he was actually on leave and I remember that he specifically took this time off so it would coincide with my birthday. For a treat, he decided to take my mother and I, along with his younger brother and his wife, to the great Lake Balaton in Hungary. On our second night there, he stayed out very late with his brother, drinking in a nearby pub until the early hours. Eventually they made their way back to our holiday cottage. And how do you say in your language — for shits and giggles? — both he and his brother decided to go for a swim in the enormous lake, infested with the drunken notion that they could race each other from one side to the other.”
Alex paused. She took a deep breath and tried to compose herself before she could get any more upset.
“His brother, after only ten minutes, started to get a stitch in his side and could no longer manage the swim to the other side of the lake and so swam back to the shore. Meanwhile, my father, stubborn 'til the end, refused to give up, even to his brother's pleading protests. He wanted to prove himself, even in his drunken demeanour. Either he was to swim back to shore or die trying to reach the other side. We found out the next morning that he had chosen the latter.'
I felt Alex's pain and gently held her hand in comfort, just as she had previously did mine. At least I'd had a good twenty, odd years in my father's company to make some pretty great memories with him, but to have a parent snatched away from your grasp in the early ventures of childhood must be the cruellest of pains. “I'm so sorry, Alex.”
A long yet agreeable silence hovered around our table. No words were spoken as we warmly met each other’s eyes, both feeling and knowing each other’s deepest and darkest sorrows in those moments, and it was only broken by the arrival of our ordered food. As the waiter began placing the plates down before us, I finally let go of Alex's hand and relaxed back into my chair.
“Enjoy your meal, Sir. Madam.”
We thanked the waiter and in a flash and he was gone onto the next table.
“Hey, are you in the mood for some laughter later?” I said trying my best to sound upbeat.
Alex wore her generous, sunny smile for me again and her eyes sparkled devilishly.
“Sure, but what are you going to do? Nothing embarrassing here, I hope. Like jumping up onto the table and singing a lullaby.”
“I don't have the money in my bank account to pay for that kind of damage. No, there is a cool little comedy club just around the corner from here. We could check out who's on tonight. It might be fun.”
“Okay. It sounds like fun.”
I poured the rest of the wine and we toasted a cheers before getting sucked into our meals.