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In the history of not-at-all-thought-through ideas, Belle thought, she might just have hit the jackpot. For a start, she was working off a decision made whilst drunk, and in the cold and sober light of day, she was beginning to have her misgivings. Secondly, it involved flying, and Belle hated flying. She sat in the departure lounge of Heathrow airport, clenching and unclenching her fists around a battered but thankfully empty takeaway coffee cup. She’d come too far to turn tail now, but she still couldn’t help but think she was making the worst mistake of her life.
The previous evening, Belle had made the decision to go to Rome. She wasn’t even totally sure why, other than the fact she was missing her Gold, and he was missing her. She wasn’t normally an impulsive soul. She was normally sensible. But no. Last night she had dug out her passport and today she was waiting to catch a plane.
It had all begun with Ruby falling asleep. Belle had invited her friend over for a girls’ night at her flat, and there had been quite a lot of alcohol consumed. And Ruby had, as Ruby was wont to do when under the influence of a lot of wine and not very much food, fallen asleep, leaving her host awake, tipsy, and feeling rather lonely. The natural progression from this state had been to missing Gold rather more than usual. It was the middle of July; he had been away from the university on research leave since Christmas and their relationship had survived through the medium of long phone calls, Skype and meeting in London whenever they could. But she hadn’t seen him for a month since he’d been in Italy, and at that moment she had felt his absence acutely.
So despite knowing that drunk-dialling was never a good idea, especially when the person you were dialling was in another country, Belle had called him…
She was just about to put the phone down and give it up as a very bad idea when Gold picked up.
“Mm?” He didn’t give any more indication that he was alive on the other end of the phone than that, and Belle immediately felt guilty for waking him. She’d forgotten that Italy was an hour ahead and it had gone one in the morning there.
“Erm,” she said. “Hi. Were you in bed?”
“Well, yes. Technically I still am. I think what you wanted to ask was ‘were you asleep?’ Which I was, but I’m awake now. What’s up? How are you?”
“Nothing’s up.” Belle sighed; she didn’t really have anything to say, she’d just wanted to hear his voice, his thick brogue wrapping her up like a hug. “I just miss you.”
There was a chuckle on the other end of the line.
“I miss you too.” He yawned. “How’s your research?”
Belle looked over at the reams of paper spread over her bedroom floor where they had spilled over from the living room. Pretty soon her thesis was going to take over the entire flat. “You know, the usual. Plodding along. How are your archaeological adventures?”
“Knackering. I haven’t been on a dig since before my accident and now my leg is constantly reminding me ‘now this is why you didn’t go into archaeology full time and decided to stick to dealing with the artefacts after someone else has got them out of the ground’. I forgot how tiring it is.”
Gold’s latest project had taken him to an archaeological dig on the outskirts of Rome. Whilst his specialism was in archiving and preservation, his positions on various academic committees meant that his field and that of archaeology often crossed paths, especially where Greco-Roman artefacts were concerned.
Belle found it difficult to reconcile the image of Gold, whom she’d never seen less than impeccably dressed (except in the bedroom), in a muddy hole in the ground unearthing Roman pottery and trying to figure out how best to keep it in tact. The picture wouldn’t stick, so she stopped trying.
“What’s the weather like?” she asked instead.
“Gorgeous. Brilliant sunshine with just enough breeze. Not a cloud in the sky. There’s only one thing missing.”
“What’s that?”
There was a pause on the other end of the line as Gold failed to stifle another yawn.
“You, of course.” He sighed, the sound crackling down the phone line. “It could be a great holiday if I wasn’t working.”
Belle laughed.
“Gold, I know you. I know you’d far rather spend your summer discovering the treasures of a bygone age than lying by a swimming pool.”
“You’re right. No-one wants to see me in swimming trunks. Not a pretty sight.”
Considering Belle had seen Gold in rather less than that, she felt this was a poor argument, but left it lie.
“Hang on.” There was a muffled noise on the other end of the phone. “Who the hell’s knocking at this time of night? Go away, it’s nearly two in the morning and I’m on the phone!”
Belle giggled as she listened to the indeterminable noises on the other end of the line.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Well, whoever it is, they aren’t taking the hint, and I can’t answer the door naked, dear. I don’t know whether you’ve ever tried making yourself decent whilst holding a mobile phone to your ear, but it’s an art I haven’t needed to practice much. Jones, if that’s you, I swear…”
There was the sound of a hotel room door opening and muffled conversation.
“All right, I’m back.” Gold’s voice sounded weary. “Jones managed to lock himself out of his room before going on the lash in town again.”
Belle laughed. “I can imagine your reaction to that.”
“I told him to sod off and sleep in reception.” He sighed again, long and heartfelt. “God, I wish you were here,” he murmured. “I miss you.”
Belle’s heart skipped. There was something in his voice that she hadn’t heard before, a sense of utter longing.
Don’t be silly, she told herself. He’s just exhausted and half-asleep. But all the same…
They’d continued talking for a little while but it fast became evident that Gold was falling asleep on her, and they had said their goodnights. Belle had checked that Ruby was safely tucked up in a blanket, but she couldn’t get to sleep herself. She had lain awake, thinking of Gold’s words, of his voice. And she had made a decision. Gold missed her. She missed Gold. So she was damn well going to see him and in doing so cheer them both up. The next morning she’d packed her bags, ignored Ruby’s incredulity when she dropped her friend back at her flat with the parting words ‘right, I’m off to Italy, see you soon’, gone to the airport and booked herself on the next available flight to Rome.
And now, said flight was being called, and Belle wasn’t sure this really a good idea.
But, nothing chanced, nothing gained. No regrets.
X
If she was being honest, Belle was amazed she hadn’t encountered any problems before now. Having landed in Rome safely, she had managed to negotiate a taxi to Gold’s hotel by dint of simply giving the driver a post-it with the address on. On arriving at the hotel, however, she had found that the owner didn’t speak English, and her attempts to make sure she was in the right place had not gone according to plan. Apparently, her pocket Italian phrasebook didn’t think that ‘Is there a group of British archaeologists staying here?’ or ‘I’m looking for a Scotsman with a limp’ were sentences that the everyday traveller would need.
“No room!” the little Italian lady kept saying, pointing to the little sign saying ‘niente camere libere’ in the window. “No room!”
Belle had given up trying to tell the woman, with the aid of the aforementioned utterly useless phrasebook, that she didn’t want a room (well, she did, but she was hoping to be able to share with a man already staying there), she was just trying to find someone, when a man came out of the back room and began speaking rapid Italian to the woman, who took a step back and allowed the man to come forward.
“Can I help you, madam?” he asked, and Belle was quite sure she’d never been so relieved to hear anyone speak English in her life.
“Yes, I’m looking for someone,” she replied. “Is there a group of archaeologists staying here?”
The man’s brow furrowed before he smiled in comprehension.
“Ah, archeologo, you are one also?”
“No, I…”
“Belle?”
She almost didn’t recognise Gold when she turned to see the group of rather dusty looking archaeologists who had come into reception behind her. Wearing his specs and about a week’s worth of stubble, he looked so far removed from his usual self that she almost had to double take.
“Hi,” she said, which was highly unimaginative but the only thing that her brain could come up with in the heat of the moment. “You said you wished I was here, so, erm, here I am.”
“Oh, Belle.”
Any misgivings that Belle might have had about her trip were completely swept away when he pulled her into a kiss, completely unmindful of the hotel owners behind the reception desk and the rest of his colleagues wolf-whistling.
“Thank God for that,” someone said as they finally broke apart. “Jones, you owe me fifty euros, you said she didn’t exist.”
Gold rolled his eyes and Belle giggled.
“Yes, well,” said whoever answered to the name of Jones. “It’s not my fault she’s always sounded too good to be true.”
Belle looked up at Gold, feeling a cheeky smile spreading over her face.
“Have you been talking about me, Dr Gold?” she asked.
“Well…” Gold looked slightly sheepish. “A bit?”
“Huh,” snorted the woman who’d won fifty euros off Jones. “A bit indeed. You’re all he talks about. Aside from antiquities.”
Presently, the lady behind the reception desk said something in Italian, and half the company burst out laughing.
“What did she say?” Belle asked.
“She said she’ll waive the charge for double occupancy as long as you don’t keep the rest of us awake,” said Jones. The rest of the archaeologists laughed, and came to the mutual agreement to leave the reunited couple in peace in the lobby.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” Gold murmured. “I thought you said you didn’t like flying.”
“I can’t believe I’m here either,” Belle admitted. “But I am.”
“And I’m very glad you are.”
“Me too.”
She stayed in his arms, pressed in close against him as if neither of them could really believe that she was physically with him after so long spent apart. He smelled of dust and clay and sunshine, and Belle knew that whatever happened, she wasn’t going to regret this trip. Now there was finally some definition in their relationship, which had only had a month or two to bloom before it had turned into a long-distance one. It had required a lot of maintenance to make it work, even though they knew that this state of affairs wasn’t a permanent one, but they had persevered; they had come through it and now they were together again. Absence definitely did make the heart grow fonder.
Belle realised it now, why she’d made this mad dash, had this crazy, not-at-all-thought-through idea.
“I love you,” she said.
The evening air suddenly seemed very heavy around them. No regrets, she reminded herself. If Gold wasn’t ready to say the L-word back, then that was fine too; she knew he had a lot more baggage than she did, there was an ex-wife to take into account, there was…
“Oh Belle, my impulsive wonder. I love you too.”
Belle let out the breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding onto. Maybe not thinking things through wasn’t such a bad thing.
Their next kiss was interrupted by the hotel owner. Belle couldn’t understand what she was saying, but from the look Gold, who had a basic grasp of the language having spent so much time researching in Rome over the years, gave her, it was something akin to ‘oh for God’s sake, get a room’. He laughed and took one of Belle’s hands in his free one, leading her along the corridor.
“Come on. I’ll take you out for the best pasta you’ll ever eat. Just let me shower, shave and put my contact lenses in first.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Belle grinned and kissed his bristly cheek. “I quite like you speccy and hairy. You look like an archetypical mad academic now.”
“Are you sure?” Gold asked, his voice lowering to little more than a growl as he added, “I’d hate for you to get stubble rash in uncomfortable places.”
Belle didn’t reply. She just let him kiss her again, and she idly wondered what she would tell Ruby when she got back to the university. One thing was certain though.
In the history of not-at-all-thought-through ideas, Belle thought, she might just have hit the jackpot.