The ones who live hidden in plain sight (A discovery of witches story)

Summer breeze

Summer breeze makes me feel fine / Blowin' through the jasmine in my mind,

by Seals and Crofts

It was a perfect May evening, after her shift. The bar where Camille was expected was one of those charming places, tucked away in the heart of the city, where people liked to linger. It was in a small cobbled street, a little removed from the noise and bustle of London's main avenues.

The terrace outside, shaded by tender young trees, let in just enough light from the street lamps to give the place a soft, warm glow. Strings of small bulbs suspended above the tables diffused a golden light, creating an almost magical atmosphere. The tables were made of rough wood, adorned with candles that flickered slightly in the wind.

It was a welcome breeze on this spring evening. It was light and caressing, bringing with it the scent of flowers and fresh grass, reminding everyone that summer was not far away. Around her, groups of friends were chatting animatedly, their voices mingling with the soft murmur of the music in the background, a mix of jazz and acoustic melodies. The bar exuded a convivial atmosphere, where you immediately felt at ease. There was a lot of laughter, conversations were punctuated by the clinking of glasses, and everything seemed to be bathed in an atmosphere of lightness and simple happiness.

She looked around the tables for her colleagues. It was in this setting that Camille noticed him, dressed casually in jeans and a slightly creased shirt, but it was his smile, that indefinable smile, that struck her immediately. Blonde hair, a little long, but she'd always liked that style. There was something about the way he looked, a quiet assurance, a softness in his eyes that contrasted with the energy around them.

The wind blew gently at that moment, blowing a lock of red hair past Camille's eyes and forcing her to push it back behind her ear. This simple gesture caught Andrew's attention. Their eyes met and he smiled, a smile that echoed his own. They continued like that, looking at each other, smiling, an innocent little moment.

He was with a friend, she had to meet. For several minutes, they continued this little game, distracting her from the conversation , exchanging glances and smiles, a silent complicity that was growing naturally. Camille could feel her heart beating a little faster every time their eyes met. Finally, when she saw him alone, his friend gone, she decided to go and talk to him. With a smile, she got up and walked over to him.

— Hi, can I join you? Camille Galloway, she asked as she approached his table, her smile widening in response.

— Of course, I'd be delighted. Andrew O'Neil. He replied, gesturing for her to sit down. It's a pleasure to finally talk. I didn't want to bother you.

She smiled, flattered. The conversation started easily, almost naturally. They talked about everything and anything, the little things in life, their professions. Camille replied that she was a doctor, training to be a pediatric emergency doctor to be precise.

— Emergency doctor, I've got it, pediatric too, but not the whole thing. He smiled.

— She responds, feeling a little hotter. It's a speciality of emergency medicine and pediatrics, additional training to take care of the pediatric public, visiting emergency departments or specialised clinics. As my professors say, it's talking about emergency medicine and pediatrics at the same time.

— It's... impressive. He smiled, impressed. You have to see children in pretty serious conditions, I don't know how you do it. I'm a primary school teacher.

— I don't know how you do it, honestly,' she replied. Apart from medical procedures, I'm incapable of teaching. What level?

— Year 2, 6-7 years old.

Naturally, they exchanged a little more, her friend introduced himself, then left them, much to her delight. They talked about what motivated them and the challenges they faced on a daily basis. The current flowed between them with disconcerting ease. The wind continued to blow gently around them, bringing a welcome sense of freshness. They had asked each other questions and laughed about the funny situations they had encountered in their jobs. They shared the same passion for helping others, for the idea of making a difference with children, each in their own way. Andrew had this gentleness in his voice, this thoughtfulness in his words, that touched Camille.

As the conversation went on, she felt more and more at ease, as if she were talking to an established friend. The hours had passed without her realising it, and she felt a little guilty that she hadn't spoken to her colleagues as planned. They exchanged numbers, promising to meet again when their schedules adjusted.

She rejoined the group, still thinking about Andrew, apologising.

— So, the mysterious man ? Two hours, Nancy teased.

— His name is Andrew, she blushed, and we're getting on well.

— We can tell.

She laughed.