London Has Your Eyes

Chapter 3: Daniel

I can't imagine where I might have lost my mobile phone. And most important, how to recover what was on the phone. I had to be on the road soon, I had to stay in touch, and I had no phone. Well done, Daniel, making trouble for yourself out of nothing is your credo.

Then another thought occurs to me: there's too much personal information on my phone, you know, photos, videos, texts. If someone publishes it, consider me dead. I'm so deep in thought, picking through the possible ruins of my career, that I don't immediately hear her voice.

- Look, I'll check the hotel for your phone if you want, but I can't promise anything,- Alex says as we take a seat at a table in a small café near the hotel. The waiter brings us a menu, she runs her eyes over it quickly and points her finger at the right item. I'm not sure if she knows what she's ordering or if she's just guessing. I'm distracted for a second, watching her, but then I go back to the problem.

- How do I get in touch with you if I can find it? - she asks, putting the menu aside. Her eyes are serious and full of sympathy.

- I'll leave my friend's number. Call him if you find it,- I dictate the only number I can remember by heart, the number of Liam, my best friend. She writes it down and nods. - Please,- I add.

- I get that you're worried and all, but your nerves aren't going to make you find a phone any faster. Try to think of it this way: you've got at least one day where you don't have to be distracted, you can spend it alone, without having to scroll through your social media feeds and chase away another call. Isn't it? Although I agree, it's hard enough,- she shrugs kindly and glances around at the trees beside us.

Maybe there's a reason for that. If I can't find a phone by tonight and it's not armageddon, then I'll deal with it. In the meantime, I just drink another cup of coffee and reconstruct the events of last night.

- You're not from around here, are you? What are you doing in London? - I try not to be too harsh with my questions, but it's been a shitload of time and she still hasn't told me anything. And I really don't like the unknown. Especially when it comes to people I don't know.

- I'm here on vacation. Just for a little while. I want to get to know this city and country better. - She lightly stretches herself and smiles at me with a lazy smile.

- What's the impression? Have you seen the whole list of sights yet? - I smirk. Tourists in London are quite ordinary. They are everywhere. Of course, we always know which streets to avoid, avoiding the crowds of foreigners. They are led around famous pictures for everyone to take a photo to remember. But in fact, they don't see the city at all. All life is boiling in those places where tourists don't stick their necks out.

- Honestly? The only place I've been is the bar where we met yesterday. All I had time to do was drop off my bags, change my clothes, and leave the hotel. It was late enough, and it would have been a crime to sit for minutes in a room when you could get a feel for London at night. I met you at the bar. You know the rest. - She looks at me and a naughty twinkle appears in her eyes. She giggles at me again.

- So what are the plans? Big Ben? Abbey? What's on your tourist route? - I ask just out of politeness, not that I'm particularly interested. I expect the standard kit of the curious foreigner.

The waiter brings our order. And then she does it: puts a piece of food in her mouth, covers her eyes and moans softly with such pleasure that I can't look away. There is literally one second when she flies out of the conversation and back in, as if it were the most normal thing to do.

- Actually, I came for the Gryffindor scarf,- she says as she opens her eyes and, embarrassed, continues, - This is the first stop on my route. What's more, it's the meaning of my journey. Sure, I've long outgrown Harry Potter, but I still adore it. And I've wanted to visit his museum for too long. So tonight I'm going to disappear there. I'll fall into my childhood, completely unashamed of the people around me. After all, the people who will be there, I will see for the first and last time, and besides, you can always pretend not to understand English - she laughs, and I laugh back.

- Unusual, of course. And what about your husband? Did he let you go alone to another country? - I ask.

- Husband? What makes you think I have a husband? I don't remember saying that,- she wondering. I point with my eyes at the wedding ring on the ring finger of my left,- Oh, no, no. I'm Russian, we're not Catholics. We wear wedding rings on our right hand. Although I'm in London, I think I should change it to the other and not confuse anyone,- she puts the ring on her right hand, looking it over. Her gaze freezes for a second, and she frowns as if remembering something, but then turns back to me.

- I'm sorry, but I have to run,- I decide that politeness is enough for today. - Given that I'm out of touch today, I have to hurry. Thanks for not leaving yesterday. - I gesture to the waiter to bring our bill. She reaches for the bill, but I pick it up, swipe my card across the terminal and let the waiter go. - You said yourself, I owe you lunch. Thank you and goodbye. I hope Potter doesn't disappoint you.