The menu had a modern feel; it was way more up market than the average beach café locally.
“China supplies the smoked meats and fish,” Miller said, still deciding what to order.
“I meant to ask, why is he called China?”
“Rumour has it he’s the son of a Duke, turned his back on his inheritance to live a life in a caravan and to be one with nature, as the entitled with a large trust fund usually do. Anyway, years ago, he would pretend to be really common, cockney even, and started calling everyone ‘me old china.’”
“Me old china?”
“China plate, mate. Or so he said. He said it so often he ended up being nicknamed China. His real name is Lord Henry something or the other. Probably adds ‘the third’ after that as well. We all had nicknames given to us.”
Miller looked up at the waitress and ordered a platter of smoked meats and two glasses of wine.
“So…” he said, smiling at me.
“So?”
“How are you feeling now?”
“As if it hadn’t happened. And embarrassed, very embarrassed.”
“Why are you embarrassed?”
“You came to build my barn and end up with me sobbing all over you, a few times.”
“I don’t mind, never could resist a damsel in distress,” he replied.
I wasn’t entirely sure of his meaning but laughed along with him. The waiter returned with our wine and we clinked glasses.
“Here’s to building barns and sobbing damsels,” I said.
“I’ll drink to that.”
Once I’d placed my glass back on the table, I turned slightly in my seat. The veranda was built, sturdily I hoped, right at the edge of the cliff, an infinity veranda it felt like. Above us, and secured to the ceiling, were heaters that I was very thankful of. At either end, the veranda was shielded from the elements by wood panelling.
“If you’re chilly, we can always go inside,” Miller said.
“No, I’m fine. The heaters are keeping me warm, and it’s nice out here.”
Not that the café was overly busy, it wasn’t the right time of year for tourists, but I wanted the fresh air for as long as possible.
“It’s an amazing view. I didn’t take too much notice of where we are, how far round is our beach?” I asked.
“Couple of bays over, I think. I know I’ve sailed round to here and it took about an hour. It’s probably further than we think it is.”
“Do you sail a lot?”
“No, not since…”
“Since…?”
“Just haven’t for a long time,” he said, and then picked up his wine.
“I remember going out in a boat when I was a kid, I can’t remember who with, though. I’m sure there was a few of us, there must have been an adult as well.”
Miller stared at me for long enough to have me feel a little uncomfortable.
“You don’t remember?” he asked very quietly.
I slowly shook my head. There was something in the way he asked that had me thinking I should know, and he was disappointed that I hadn’t.
The waiter, returning with our meals, interrupted us from any further conversation. A large round white bowl was placed in front of me and the smell that wafted up had my mouth watering. I inhaled a fusion of Asia, of the saltiness of the sea, and herbs. I already knew the meal would be delicious without having to taste it. I picked up my fork and pierced a prawn. I let my tongue taste it before popping it into my mouth and then closing my eyes as I savoured it.
Miller laughed. “I take it you’re enjoying that? You look like you’re about to do a Meg Ryan scene.”
I opened my eyes and once the initial shock had worn off, I laughed.
“That is better than any…You know what I mean.”
“Then you’ve never had a mind-blowing orgasm.”
My mouth hung open and I felt my eyes widen.
“Sorry, that was so far off base,” Miller said.
“It was, sort of, I think.”
He raised his eyebrows and smirked. “Only sort of and you think?”
“Eat your lunch, Miller.”
Was he flirting with me? I didn’t think anyone had flirted with me, not even Trey. When Trey asked me to date him, it had all been matter-of-fact, not far short of a business proposal, and at the time, I thought it was his shyness and rather cute.
I remembered him stumbling over his words as he invited me to the cinema. We’d spent plenty of time with each other in uni, of course, and as he was an overseas student, it had been nice to show him the sights of London. On our first real date, however, I’d seen a very different side to him. He had been the ultimate gentleman, insisting I walked on the inside of the pavement, giving me his jacket when it had rained, and shaking my hand once he’d walked me to my front door after the film.
“Earth to Dani,” I heard.
“Sorry, I was thinking.”
“Do you want another wine?”
I hadn’t realised I’d finished the large glass of Pinot.
“Oh no, I’ll be drunk. I really can’t handle my alcohol,” I said with a laugh.
“Coffee then,” he said, turning in his chair to catch the waiter as he passed.
Miller order two coffees and I pushed my bowl away, having eaten only half of my meal.
“I’ve enjoyed being here, thank you,” I said.
“You’re welcome. It’s nice to get out and do something normal every once in a while.”
“Tell me a little about you. I don’t know much,” I said.
“Not much to tell, really. I was born here, lived here until my late teens, I think. Went off the rails for a while and eventually, once I’d straightened out, I came back.”
“Went off the rails?”
“Yeah, you don’t want to know all that shit.”
“What made you want to get involved in buildings? You said you were an architect, where did you study?”
“Prison, Dani.”
I sat there, not sure I’d heard him correctly. I guessed the look on my face had him worried.
“Spoiled the day, have I?”
“Erm, no. I was just surprised. Why…No, you don’t have to tell me anything.”
In that moment I was so annoyed to have drunk all my wine, I needed something to do, to break the moment. Thankfully our coffee arrived.
“My mum died, I told you my dad was a priest, didn’t I? Anyway, I guess I just didn’t deal with it how I should have. I distanced myself from my dad, because I didn’t think he was supporting me. Like Daniel, they chose prayer instead of practicalities. I fucked up, did some dumb stuff, and got caught. I spent two years in prison, and while I was there I took an online course for something to do, at first. I’ve always been fascinated with buildings, loved them in fact.”
“I thought you said your dad was a carpenter?”
Had he said that, or had I imagined it?
“He was, as a hobby I guess. He made cabinets, boats, you name it; he could do it. I used to work alongside him when I was a kid, and then when I straightened myself out, I came home. I decided an office job wasn’t for me, not that I would have gotten employed at that time, so I started doing small renovations and it grew from there.”
“Do you…?”
“Still do the dumb stuff? No, trust me, I learned a very harsh lesson by going to prison. I shouldn’t have told you, to be fair. I don’t want you to think any less of me. It was a long time ago.”
“It’s fine, I’m glad you have,” I smiled reassuringly at him.
Once the initial shock had worn off, I found that it didn’t bother me. I didn’t know anyone who had been to prison, but as he said, it was a long time ago.
We sipped on our coffee but his earlier spark had gone. I reached forward and touched his hand.
“It’s okay, Miller. So you went to prison, you’re not that person now.”
“My ex-wife loved the notoriety of being married to an ex-con, as she told everyone I was. It was fucking annoying. I just wanted to get on with my life and put it all behind me. She didn’t seem to want me to. In fact, she’s now with someone who’s doing time.” He laughed as he picked up his coffee cup.
“I guess there are plenty of women around who like that kind of thing.”
“What about you? Would you date someone who’d been in prison?” he asked, staring intently at me.