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I feel like celebrating so I take myself to this amazing restaurant I passed earlier today when I was exploring and thought it looked nice.

One of the few occasions when I was right to judge a book by its cover: the food is delicious, the staff are lovely and it’s a relaxed but sophisticated setting.

I bought a book in the airport on the way here, a thriller set in a beach house, and I’ve been able to eat my dinner completely engrossed in the pages.

‘I think my perfect date might be a book,’ I announced to Flora a couple of weeks ago when I was round her house for dinner. ‘Aside from you, of course.’

‘You can say that sort of thing all you like, but I don’t believe you,’ she told me curtly, twisting a cap back on its bottle.

‘You love dating. Remember when I first broke up with my ex-boyfriend Jonah? You told me how wonderful dating was. Fun, romantic, exciting, dramatic – those were the words I believe you used.’

‘Those are also the words I use to describe some of my favourite books,’ I countered haughtily. ‘And you don’t get to have an opinion on the matter. You were on the dating scene for about one whole minute before you fell head over heels with your accidental roommate.’

‘Iris, I love books as much as the next person, but you can’t date one,’ Flora said, before taking a sip of her drink.

‘I suppose. You can’t have sex with one either.’

She spat Appletiser out all over the table. I smiled, delighted with myself.

‘You can read about sex though,’ I considered, ‘which can be just as satisfying.’

‘Iris,’ she giggled, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin. ‘Come on. Be serious. I know dating can be tiring and I also know that you’re happy on your own – but it would also be okay for you to admit you might want to meet someone.’

‘I know that,’ I assured her, before heaving a sigh. ‘But I don’t have space for that sort of thing in my schedule right now.’

‘Sometimes, it comes along when you least expect it and before you know it—’

‘You’re living in a mansion in Wimbledon carrying the offspring of a professional tennis player,’ I finished for her, gesturing around her spacious, open-plan kitchen.

‘Exactly. Oof.’ She shifted in her seat, placing her palm over her belly. ‘Don’t I know that this is the kid of an athlete. The strength of the kicks!’

I’d jumped to my feet and run around the table to feel the movement and our conversation had naturally shifted onto something else. I know she’s looking out for me, but I meant what I said: I don’t have time for real-life romance right now.

I really would rather go on a date with a book.

‘Iris?’

I snap my head up from my page-turner to look right up into the stunningly beautiful eyes of—

‘José.’ I smile, flooded with relief at remembering the name of my current landlord.

If it’s possible, he looks even better tonight than he did when we bumped into each other on the stairs of my building on Monday.

His dark hair styled perfectly, he’s wearing a dark-navy suit with no tie, the top of the shirt unbuttoned, and a pale, silk pocket square.

I can smell a hint of his cologne, nothing too overpowering. Just right.

He glances around the restaurant before his eyes return to me, his forehead furrowing in confusion. ‘You are… dining alone?’

‘Yes, that’s right,’ I say, marking my page.

‘No, I can’t allow it,’ he says, his eyes flashing dangerously at me. ‘You must join my table. I’m eating with some friends; they wouldn’t mind you joining us I’m sure.’

He nods to a table behind me where two other well-dressed men are already sitting, perusing the menu. I didn’t even notice them walk in. My book had distracted me from absolutely everyone else in the room. They glance up at José’s comment and smile at me.

I smile politely back.

‘That’s kind, but I’ve finished,’ I tell him, gesturing for the waiter to come over with the card machine so I can pay the bill. ‘Thank you, though.’

‘How are you enjoying your stay here?’ he asks, stepping aside as the waiter awkwardly holds the machine out for me, his eyes darting to José nervously as though he’s some kind of local celebrity. ‘I hope it hasn’t disappointed you.’

‘Not at all. It’s beautiful and it has a wonderful sense of community. Everyone has been so welcoming.’

‘Good.’

As I move to stand up, he steps swiftly behind me to hold out my chair.

‘Allow me,’ he insists.

I pretend not to notice his eyes trail down the neckline of my dress as I turn to face him.

‘Thank you, José. It was nice to see you again. Enjoy your dinner,’ I say, before thanking the waiter and making my way towards the door.

‘Iris,’ José says, stopping me in my tracks as I hoped he might. I turn to face him. ‘I really don’t like the idea of you dining alone for your stay here. Perhaps I could take you out some time.’

‘Perhaps. You know where I’m staying if you ever want to ask,’ I say coolly, before turning away from him and strolling out of the restaurant.

I suppose one date without a book wouldn’t hurt.

*

If Leo was half as charming as his father, I’d be in danger.

Lunch with Adriano the next day is so easy and entertaining, I keep forgetting that I’m working – which is always when I do my best interviews.

I’m so naturally interested in what he’s saying that I’m not really thinking about the questions I’m asking him.

The conversation moves all by itself without any kind of plan, and I have no idea where it’s going to go, but by the end of it, I know I’ll have way too many brilliant quotes than I can possibly fit into my word count.

‘Hang on,’ I say, holding up my hand to interrupt him mid-story as he chuckles away, ‘did you say Leo was six years old at this point?’

‘Yes. Six years old.’

‘And he was late for a school trip because he was surfing? At six years old .’

‘That’s right,’ he confirms, enjoying my stunned expression.

‘I had no idea that you could start surfing that young!’

‘Not on his own, I was there with him,’ Adriano emphasises.

‘We both got in plenty of trouble with the school that day. He missed the coach, so I had to drive him to the museum instead. You should have seen us in the car,’ he chuckles at the memory, ‘both of us sulking because we knew we were missing some great waves.’

‘That’s amazing that he was out on a board so young.

’ I return my attention to the delicious salted cod dish I’ve ordered – Adriano has taken me to what he claims is the best fish restaurant in town and so far, I’m inclined to agree with him.

‘So I take it he gets his love of surfing from you then?’

‘I grew up here in Burgau, so I’ve always felt connected to the ocean,’ he tells me, linking his fingers together and resting his chin on his knuckles.

‘That connection is something I saw in Leo from a very young age. You are born with it. He was lucky to grow up in Victoria where he could learn to surf. I’d been travelling, you see, and when I met Michelle, I decided to stay in Australia.

I loved living out there – it’s such a beautiful place – and it was a joy to teach him as a young boy and see him grow to love the sport like I did.

More so, I think. He’s wonderful to watch, like he was meant to do it – you can always spot him out there on the water, no matter the crowd. ’

I smile, glancing at the screen of my phone to make sure it’s still recording and got that gorgeous quote.

I always have the fear that at the end of an interview, I’ll check my phone and it won’t have recorded anything, which is why I also have an old-fashioned Dictaphone in my bag recording the whole conversation, too, as back-up.

No harm in being safe rather than sorry.

‘When you were teaching him as a kid, did you always plan for him to surf professionally?’ I ask, placing my glass back down.

He shakes his head. ‘Not at all. You can’t plan your child’s destiny, that I strongly believe.

But anyone could tell from watching him that he was special.

He has a gift. I made sure that when Leo was learning to surf, he was having fun.

That was absolutely key to my teaching and a technique I hope we bring to the surf school here.

’ He leans back in his chair pensively. ‘The best surfers in the world, Iris, are not those who are in it for the competitions, but those who get on the board for the feeling of it.’

‘The feeling of surfing.’

‘Yes. There is nothing like it. The freedom and exhilaration of surfing a wave. But even if you don’t surf, simply being out there in the ocean is enough. That is when you understand what matters in life.’

I keep my eyes fixed on his. ‘And what does matter in life, do you think?’

‘The small things,’ he says simply. ‘The simple, everyday moments of joy and love and respect.’ A sadness flits across his expression.

‘That is what Leo needed to come here to remember. He forgot that for a while. It’s easy for that to happen.

I only wish… I wish I’d persuaded him to come with me when I first moved home from Australia.

We wanted different things at that time and… Anyway, he got here in the end.’

‘Do you think he has rediscovered those small moments of joy here in Burgau?’

‘When you watch him in the water, Iris, you will see for yourself. I am so proud of how far he’s come.

He’s found himself again. It’s not easy to rediscover hope and confidence when you’ve been swallowed up by such sadness and misery.

But like I told him when he first came here, it’s like coming off your board in a wave.

You can feel uneasy and lost, your confidence shattered, but you will come up for air and everything will make sense.

And then you bring what you’ve learnt from that to master the next wave, because that’s the most important thing to remember – there will always be another wave coming.

’ He shoots me a grin. ‘I had to word it in a way he would understand.’