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Gabi nodded because excitement had stolen her voice.
“Oh, and maybe wear that nice scent. Not too much, or it will upset the paella.”
“Go.” Gabi pointed to the door, laughing.
“Oh, the bunch of flowers on the table in the hallway is for Pilar.”
Gabi hadn’t thought about gifts. “Is there a custom here? Should I have got something for Aisha?”
“I picked up some jellied fruits from the market for her, along with the ashtray for Maggie that had slipped your mind.”
Gabi winced.
“The jellies are next to the flowers.”
Gabi went to Nana and kissed her forehead. “What would I do without you?” she asked.
Nana patted her arm. “Don’t burn the paella,” Nana said as she opened the door. “The crust should be brown and rich with flavour.”
Gabi had no appetite for food. Her stomach was busy challenging the Guinness Book of Records for the number of somersaults thrown in a minute. Nana shut the door behind her, and Gabi punched the air repeatedly. She ran around the living room puffing up the cushions and setting them back down, grinning and laughing. She repositioned the ornaments on the window ledge, added more paprika to the paella and tasted it, and wiped down the kitchen surface. The wine and beer were perfectly chilled, and the Rioja had been left to breathe for an hour already. She removed Nana’s place setting from the table on the terrace and found the candles. She put two tealights in cups and set one each side of the table’s centre where the paella would rest. They could watch the sunset with the sound of the river. She went back to the living room and checked everything looked right before heading to her bedroom to change. She donned three-quarter length denim shorts and a clean, baggy T-shirt, and ran a little gel through her hair to set it. She still didn’t feel ready.
A knock at the door sent her stomach into a spin and flooded her in tiny electrically charged vibrations. Telling herself to relax and calm down had the opposite effect. She clicked her fingers together and blew out a puff of air to release some of the tension. The knock came again. Her hand trembled as she opened the door, and her heart pounded behind her ribs as she caught sight of Aisha. “Hi,” she said, glad for the relief that came from releasing her breath.
Aisha held out a bunch of yellow, orange, red, and violet flowers mixed with stems of green leaves, and grasses. “They’re from our garden, for Estrella from Mama,” she said.
“Nana has a date with the man at the end of the road,” she said, and Aisha stared at her with that look in her eyes that turned Gabi inside out with a mix of desire and vulnerability. “She left those for your mum. The gift is for you.” She was rambling. “Sorry, come in.”
Aisha took a step and stood just inside the front door. Gabi brought the flowers to her nose and inhaled. Sweet rose, honeycomb, and candyfloss. She was taken back to the farmhouse when she and Nana used to bake cakes. Those summer days, with the sunshine, smiles, and delicious homemade lemonade had been few and far between, but they had been the best. “The smells remind me of summers in England. Come through.”
Aisha’s scent drifted into Gabi’s consciousness, and she had to hold back from throwing Aisha against the wall and kissing her. “That door leads to a bathroom,” she said, indicating to the door closest to the front entrance. She headed to the kitchen to find a vase and as the water ran, she took deep breaths.
Aisha followed her. “I’m really sorry that Nicolás was so rude to you on Saturday,” Aisha said.
Gabi set the vase on the countertop. She wanted to say that he was a knob, but Aisha looked a bit tense, and Gabi wanted her to feel comfortable. She’d noticed the effect he had on Aisha, how he made her appear guarded and restless. He put Gabi on edge too. He was a bully, and she didn’t want to talk about him tonight because it would bring the mood down. “I ignored him.” She smiled. “Can we talk about something else tonight?”
Aisha half-smiled. “The paella smells good.”
Gabi laughed. She glanced at the dish on the stove. “It’s one of Nana’s family recipes, tried and tested over time, so it should taste good. Paella is one of my favourites.”
“Mine too.”
The warmth in Gabi’s chest reached her hands and they tingled from the urge to reach out and take Aisha into her arms. “Would you like red or white wine, or beer? I think there’s vodka or sherry if—”
“Red wine, thanks.”
“Here.” Gabi handed her a drink.
Aisha gazed the length of Gabi and smiled. “I love your shorts.”
“I made them from some too-short jeans years ago. I’ll make you a pair,” Gabi said, and Aisha laughed. Gabi loved the notes in her voice, loved Aisha’s flowing white skirt that begged to be explored to discover the delights that lay beneath its folds. She loved the dark red blouse that screamed to be loosened to expose the top of her breasts before being slipped from her shoulders. She loved the low-heeled sandals that wouldn’t break a window should they be flung from Aisha’s feet in the heat of passion. She cast the image to the back of her mind. “I like to sew,” Gabi said and led them onto the terrace.
“We make most of our clothes,” Aisha said.
Gabi studied the neat cut of the collar of Aisha’s blouse and the tidy seam where the ruffled fabric joined the top of the arm with the shoulder. The stitching and alignment were impeccable. “Did you make that?”
“Yes.”
Gabi’s core throbbed, not because of the dress but because Aisha looked perfect. “It’s beautiful.”
