Page 67 of The Little Porto Book Club

Old Albert shows Tiago the photos and it’s all I can do to look, peeking out behind my fingers. How utterly shocking to see my lewd behaviour played out for the world to witness. It’s a little more than a peck too. My mother will be scandalised! My uncles will be calling in to visit Tiago. This is a disaster.

‘This is a nightmare!’

Confused gazes swing my way.

‘Are you not offended, Tiago? They’ve …’

He moves to me, tickles the tips of my fingers with his. That’s new and, privately, very thrilling. ‘If you want, I can request they take them down, but everyone is right, Viviane. They’re beautiful photos. Just looking at you in those I forget how to breathe.’

‘That sounds like a medical emergency.’

‘Yes!’ He laughs. ‘It feels a lot like that! But seriously, if you don’t like that a private moment was shared, I can ask them to remove the ones of us. I don’t want you to worry about it.’

‘We didn’t give them permission.’

‘Your cousin Ida asked, well, sort of. There was a sign at the ceremony that all photos would be shared unless you opted out.’

‘How did I not see that with my keen observational skills?’ This lovebug is really playing havoc with my skillset.

‘You were too busy gazing into Tiago’s eyes?’ Thomas says with a small smile.

He doesn’t know just how true that statement is. And because it’s Thomas, who rarely speaks in book club, I don’t admonish him. This is Tiago’s fault for bewitching me.

‘Fine. It’s too late now. All of Porto will have seen those shots of us en flagrante so there is little I can do about it. Cousin Ida will hear about this and her woefully inadequate warning.’

‘Soooo how did we miss this ship?’

‘This ship?’ old Albert questions. ‘Boats, now that’s a subject I can get behind.’

I go to answer, but Thomas gets in first. ‘Ship is short for relationship.’

The group falls quiet.

‘Ah, I think,’ he says with a laugh. ‘Amazing what you find out when you read.’

‘You’ve been reading the same Crimean War hardback for weeks,’ old Albert says with a grunt. ‘I’d hazard a guess the only ships in that are the type that float on water.’

‘I read a wide variety of genres,’ Thomas says with a shrug and a lopsided smile. There’s something different about his posture, his eyes. He looks brighter. Less stooped with whatever heaviness plagued him. It’s still there, but it’s not as pronounced. It’s nice to see.

I smile. ‘Any news with the Lucinda mystery?’

‘I walked past late last night,’ Zephyr says. ‘The windows were open and some lights were on. Couldn’t see anyone inside though. Knocked and still no answer.’

‘So does this mean she’s been there all along?’

‘Don’t think so,’ Zephyr says. ‘There was a car in the driveway, that wasn’t there before on any of our visits. We’re going to see if we can find out who it belongs to. Old Albert’s ready to charm the person at the transport centre into giving up the intel.’

‘How do you charm them?’ I ask, genuinely curious.

‘First I flirt and if that doesn’t work …’

‘Which it really hasn’t …’

‘I tell them about my life starting from my first core memory which, if you can believe it, was actually being born. It was a frosty winter morn …’

‘Oh yeah and to make it more brain ache inducing he rhymes it. They give in shockingly fast.’

‘And there was the sound of a ship’s horn …’