‘Thirty-six is a good age,’ she replied, and Finn smiled properly this time.
Removing his hand from her face, he said, ‘Thirty-eight is not so bad either.’
‘When I was still a teenager, thirty felt impossibly old,’ she told him, digging through the dusty earth with her foot. ‘I thought that my whole life would be sorted by then, but I am so far away from where I imagined I would be, aren’t you?’
Finn considered this.
‘No,’ he said simply. ‘I am exactly where I want to be, doing what I want. And I am happy.’
‘Do you mean in general?’ Pepper asked, then could not help but add, ‘Or right now?’
‘Right now,’ he repeated, drawing out each word until he could tell she was hanging on them, ‘I am very happy indeed.’
‘Really?’ Pepper whispered, holding her breath as Finn moved closer.
‘Ja,’ he said.
She allowed her eyes to travel downwards until she was staring at his lips. It felt like such a first kiss moment, up here overlooking the city, the fading light of the day colouring the sky. She was so sure it was going to happen that she closed her eyes, only to open them a second later as she heard Finn clear his throat. He had stepped away and was resting his elbows on the Castelo’s outer wall, his gaze drawn by the thousand twinkling lights that signalled a city’s transition from day to night.
‘I should go.’ Pepper sounded as dismal as she felt. ‘I’ve been way longer than an hour.’
‘OK.’
Finn seemed neither happy to see her go, nor sad that she was leaving. Pepper hesitated for a moment, stepping from one still-soggy Converse to the next.
‘I guess this is goodbye, then?’ she said. But as she turned to leave, her cheeks burning, Finn reached across and looped his arm through hers.
‘Don’t run away,’ he said, sounding puzzled. ‘I will walk with you.’
Pepper let herself be led along, wondering how she could have read the situation so wrong. Linking arms was not something you did with a person you fancied; it was something she did with Josephine. And why had he done all that face stroking if he wasn’t planning on kissing her afterwards? She was caught between embarrassment at having made it so obvious she liked him and disappointment that he clearly did not feel the same way. Here she was again, reading signals worse than a blind train driver, believing that butterflies in the belly meant love, when what they were really doing was beating out a percussion to accompany the words: he’s just not that into you.
Finn said very little as they wandered back down through the Alfama streets, but he seemed content, and every time she braved a look in his direction, she found him smiling down at her. He must be relieved to be on the verge of escape, she surmised grumpily, then shrieked as Finn pulled her suddenly and forcefully backwards. She had been so lost in thought that she hadn’t even noticed the tram hurtling around the corner.
‘That was close,’ Finn said. ‘Too close. You might have ended up flat, like a crepe.’
It was such a ludicrous image that Pepper could not help but laugh.
‘I’d rather be a pancake,’ she said. ‘You know, being British and everything.’
‘Both are sweet,’ Finn agreed. ‘Like you.’
Was he mocking her now, or did he mean it?
Pepper unlooped her arm from around his.
‘My hotel is just at the bottom of those steps,’ she said, pointing across the road. ‘You don’t have to walk me all the way down there – I’ll be fine.’
‘OK,’ he said, with the same reluctant acceptance as before.
‘OK.’
Pepper paused, took a step back, then forwards again towards him.
‘OK,’ he said again, this time with a grin.
‘OK,’ she repeated.
Finn extended a hand, his fingers brushing the tips of hers as she began to finally walk away. She got to the top of the steps before she turned once more to look at him, then laughed as he started waving exuberantly with both hands.
‘Send me your number and I will message you!’ he shouted, his voice carrying over the sounds of traffic and travellers, of music and voices.
Very quickly, before the nagging voice of self-doubt could pipe up again to talk her out of it, Pepper brought her hand to her mouth and blew him a kiss.
Chapter 13
The number twenty-eight tram set off with a rattle and a jangle.
‘Jorge and I used to ride this route every day,’ Josephine said, grasping Pepper’s hand in her own. ‘Back in those days, the tourists hadn’t cottoned on yet, so it was mainly the local folk that used it. Very lazy of us, given how young and spritely we both were at the time, but we never could resist.’
‘I can see why,’ Pepper replied, waving back at a group of schoolchildren through the tram’s open window. ‘I feel as if we’ve travelled back in time.’
‘Now you see why we had to get a taxi to Praça Martim Moniz this morning,’ Josephine added. ‘The only way to get a window seat on the left side is to get on board right at the beginning of the journey. Jorge taught me that. Quite often, however, the two of us would simply leap up and hold onto the bars at the back, rather like we were surfing the thing.’
‘You daredevils!’ Pepper said in delight. ‘I can one hundred per cent picture you doing that – probably even now.’
‘You are far too generous to me, darling.’ Josephine chuckled. ‘If I jumped up onto anything these days, it would likely be the last agile thing I ever did.’
There was a loud screech as the tram brakes were applied, and a chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ from everyone riding inside as they began to descend an almost-vertical road. Pepper fell into the same contented silence as Josephine, enjoying the feel of the sun-warmed air as it streamed in through the open windows. The city was bathed in a sleepy, butter-coloured light this morning, the sun yet to reach full mast. As they trundled and clanked into the Alfama district, the views became increasingly mesmeric, and Pepper gazed out as a kaleidoscope of pastel houses, smooth cobbles, dazzling azulejos and abundant plant life flashed past.
‘Do you see?’ Josephine whispered. ‘Do you see why I fell in love here?’
Pepper could only nod, her mind straying predictably to Finn. Thinking about him made her feel as if she were standing right on the edge of a precipice, but rather than being struck by the fear of falling off, she felt free, as if she could fly, just as she had in her dream last night. Right out into the open, dipping and soaring and leaving the rest of the world far behind.
Glancing from the view to her friend in the seat beside her, Pepper was surprised to find tears trailing down the older woman’s cheeks.
‘Oh no, what’s the matter?’
‘Don’t mind me; just being a silly, sentimental old bat.’
‘You are neither silly nor an old bat,’ Pepper scolded gently. ‘And there’s nothing wrong with feeling sentimental.’
‘Being back in this city, and travelling once more through all these memories, it makes me feel young again – in here.’ Josephine tapped a hand against her chest. ‘But all that does is remind me in the same breath of how decrepit I am – and how much of my life has vanished in what feels like the merest whisper.’