In the Interlude

Chapter 35 - London Boy

On a warm July day, three months after they had first met in the middle of Holborn Street, Aïcha was crossing yet again the English Channel. If someone would have told her that she was going to stay at Tom's place for more than a week, sleep in the same bed as his, and kiss him goodbye and goodnight, she would have laughed and laughed and probably would have laughed some more.

Yet here she was. And it couldn't get more surreal than this. Or so she thought.

Tom had insisted on sending someone to pick her up from St Pancras. "There is no scenario in which I'm letting you take the tube all the way to Northern London with your luggage," he had said. "I'm sending someone, end of discussion". True to his words, a driver was waiting for her on Pancras Road. With a courteous smile, he opened the door for her and took her suitcase. It was going to be a thirty-minute drive, Aïcha was told as she settled comfortably in the back of the car.

Thirty minutes was all that was left before seeing him again. The butterflies swarming in her stomach threatened to make her sick. She had managed on the Eurostar to focus on reading some of the documents her client had sent for the new project she was starting the followîg day. But now, she was overwhelmed and nervous all at once. Aïcha opened the window to get some fresh air but the stiff weather and the busy London traffic did nothing to make her feel better.

She closed the window reluctantly and her eyes met the drivers' in the rear-view mirror. "Are you alright, Madam?"

"Actually no. Is it possible to stop just for a minute? I need some fresh air." The driver nodded and looked for an empty space to still the car. Aïcha quickly opened the door and stood outside, leaving her light jacket behind.

She breathed in deeply, held the air, released it slowly from her mouth as if she was breathing out through a straw. She did it again, and again.

Looking around, she recognised the beautifully maintained Regent's Park, busy with tourists, dog walkers, families and the occasional runner. She smiled as she took in the lush green grass, the alleys dotted with gracious trees offering shade from the heat of the sun. She felt better, even if the butterflies had turned into huge bats playing rugby in her stomach. But the sweet feeling of anticipation and excitement had filled her heart and she couldn't wait to see Tom any longer.

After a swift drive through the London traffic, they arrived in a private gated area. The driver showed his credentials and the gates opened. A few moments later, Aïcha was walking up the stairs that led to Tom's brownstone house. The door was open, he was waiting for her in the doorway.

Her heart thumped loudly in her ears as she stepped into his house. Tom stood there barefoot, wearing tight blue jeans and a white t-shirt, the hem of each sleeve perfectly showing off his toned biceps. His beard has grown again. His deep blue eyes taking her all in. Were his eyes always this blue?

"Welcome to London, Aïcha," he said, his deep voice pulling at the strings of her heart.

The driver cleared his throat as he put her suitcase down. Aïcha turned around to thank him while Tom waved goodbye and closed the door.

Tom took a step forward, his attention back on Aïcha, his eyes gleaming at her. He stretched his hand for her to hold it and pulled her slowly to him. Their foreheads touched, his hands on her shoulders, her hands clutching his curls at the nape of his neck. They stayed like that for a long moment.

"You smell so good," he said as he breathed her in and hugged her tightly in his arms, trying to convey just how much he had missed her and how much she meant to him.

"I have missed you," she answered, a deep sense of peace and belonging filled her heart as she ran her hands through his curls, slowly caressing the side of his neck.