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Oliver liked to think that his planning and effort had been exemplary. He had booked their reservation, written the card, and read every advice column he could find on the matter. Then, on Zosia’s advice, he had changed the reservation, rewritten the card, and bought a new stack of advice magazines. He had done all of this thrice.
This sort of commitment, he thought, was a very positive sign.
As, he thought, was the restaurant. It was a posh place, but British – the kind of gastropub you’d only find in Surrey, usually: quiet, with ample room for tables so that no couple was squished on top of one-another, privy to the sounds of smacking lips and over-forced declarations of affection. He’d been twice before and could vouch very happily for their Coq au Vin.
And so, when he heard a characteristic “Oliver” as he finished writing up his patient notes for the day, he felt a twang of concern, a word he preferred vastly over frustration if not only for the lack of moral implication. Still, he turned around and offered a light smile. “Hello,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting to see you for another hour.”
Matteo leaned against the counter. “I have a surprise for you,” he said.
Oliver gave a prompt nod. “It might have to wait,” he said. “I was planning on –”
Matteo leaned in. “Shh,” he crooned into Oliver’s ear. “We will have time for your plans, I promise.”
Not entirely convinced, Ollie nodded and dropped his head onto Matteo’s shoulder. “Go on, then.”
“Come with me,” said Matteo. “We will need the car.”
Ollie blinked. He and Matteo preferred to walk, usually, for the thinking time and exercise it afforded them. Besides, for Ollie, who could not drive, it was a matter of habit. Still, he followed Matteo down to the car and shuffled into the passenger seat.
Matteo held up a sleep mask.
“Oh,” said Ollie. “I’m quite amenable to napping.”
“We are not napping,” said Matteo. “I thought it was more comfortable than tying a scarf around your face to blindfold you.”
Ollie slowly shifted his gaze to meet Matteo’s. “This isn’t going where I think it is, is it? Because honestly, I’m not…”
Matteo held his hand up. “It is not like that,” he confirmed. “I just want it to be a surprise.”
Ollie twisted around and let Matteo pull the mask over his eyes, savouring the way Matteo’s fingers gently released any stray bits of Ollie’s hair that had caught in the band. For a brief time, Ollie thought he could quite like the mask. It was comfortable, and it honed his senses: Matteo’s air freshener was citrusy with an undertone of almond and must have cost a fortune, whilst his hand on Ollie’s knee was light and reassuring. The car seat was high and forward enough for him to sense that if he fell forward, there was no risk of missing the airbag.
“I feel safe,” he told Matteo.
“Good,” said Matteo. “I’m glad.” There was a pause. “I want you to feel safe.”
A moment later, Ollie felt the car engine rev into motion beneath him.
*
“Good morning,” came a voice, just outside Ollie’s sphere of consciousness. He floated for a while in the dark, comfortable and warm. “Good morning, sleepy,” came the voice again, pushing harder against his conscience. He opened his eyes and was greeted with the dark. Ah, right.
“It looks like you got your nap after all,” said Matteo.
Ollie hummed. “How long was I asleep?”
In the moment of silence, Ollie was almost sure he could sense Matteo checking his watch. “About half an hour,” said Matteo. “A good length for a power nap. Do you feel refreshed?”
Ollie thought for a second. Refreshed was taking it a bit far, but he did feel reset. “I feel well,” he said.
Matteo squeezed his hand. “I’m glad,” he said. “Now, it is time to take you to see your surprise.”
“I don’t know if I can find my way in this,” said Ollie, gesturing up to the mask.
“I will guide you.” Matteo paused. “Is that okay?”
“Yes,” said Ollie in an instant.
After a moment, Ollie heard the drivers’ side door opening and closing, and before he had time even to feel for his, his door was opening as well. A warm, dry hand clasped his own. “Your guide awaits,” said Matteo.
Matteo’s hands on his shoulders were warm, even resting on his coat, and Ollie never once felt at risk of a fall, even when Matteo stopped abruptly to alert him to the kerb. A moment later, they were both on the pavement.
“I am going to take off the blindfold,” said Matteo.
Like when he had put the mask on, Matteo’s hands were gentle, and he took the greatest modicum of care as he removed the mask. Then, in an instant, Ollie felt chilly air on his face. He blinked, squinting. The sun had not yet finished his course, and February dusk was a light grey-blue, in contrast to the dim January dusks Ollie had grown accustomed to.
It was for this reason that it took Ollie a second longer than anticipated to adjust to his surroundings.
He turned to Matteo, aghast. “I have a reservation here,” he said.
“For today?” said Matteo.
“Yes,” said Ollie. “Yes, it’s for today.”
There was a pregnant silence, before Matteo began to laugh. “Then we will both enjoy the food,” he said, "and I will pay you back the deposit." After a moment, he spoke again. “Actually, you will have to advise me on the menu – I chose the restaurant on Zosia’s recommendation.”
Ollie smiled. “She’s rather good, isn’t she?”
The very sentiment was confirmed a moment later, when a stiff young man in a suit informed them both that their reservation had been merged into one, under the name “March”.