Mallorcan Magic – Episode 09

Eira spending time with Danny Carpenter?” Antonio sucked in his breath.

“I do not like the sound of that. He is East End boy made good. Or bad, depending who you talk to.”

Helen handed him a cup of coffee.

“I must admit I was surprised. For a start, I didn’t like the way he picked her up at the pool, having seen her in that café.”

“Maybe he followed her.”

“If he did, he must have been surprised when he realised where she was heading. I never even knew he lived here. I thought he had a villa high in the mountains. At least he had his little girl and boy with him. Eira found them very cute.”

“I do not think the children will be on a date with their father and Eira tonight, so I hope she knows what she is doing. Carpenter is known for his jet-set lifestyle and long list of girlfriends. He is single again, though,” Antonio said grudgingly. “Eira won’t hear a word against him.” Helen sighed. “Gosh, my best friend comes out of a relationship with Sad Steven and next thing we know, she’s being wined and dined by Mr Glamour Boy.”

Antonio frowned.

“What is this Glamour Boy?”

“I’m being silly, that’s all. Eira thinks Mr Carpenter is very handsome.” Antonio shrugged.

“Perhaps he might be described as handsome. For sure, he is no longer a boy − he must be ten years older than Eira.”

That was quite a snide remark! She’d settled beside Antonio on the couch and he put his arm around her so she could cuddle up. He smoothed her hair and dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose.

“This is nice,” she said.

“Yes, very nice. I like that English word. I like Eira and I want her to enjoy her holiday but I most prefer being alone with you, querida.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” He laughed.

“You English girls, you are so flippish!”

“You mean flippant?”

“If flippant word means joking, yes.”

“I think it’s down to the British sense of humour, being self-deprecating.” He groaned.

“You are strangling my knowledge of English tonight.”

“Your English is definitely improving.”

“And your Spanish is much better than my English. Here is little test. Do you know how to say ‘I love you’?”

“Easy peasy, amigo! Te amo, Antonio.”

“And I love you too, my darling, flippant English rose.” He tilted her chin upwards so he could kiss her on the lips.

After he released her, she smiled.

“I didn’t need tricked into saying I love you. I just didn’t dare say it seriously to you until now. Are we still being jokey?”

“Definitely not. I have wanted to tell you this for long while. Tonight, on our own for the first time in days…”

“Four days, maybe?” He laughed.

“Is an eternity, my Helen. And now I have something important to ask.”

Helen blinked. Surely he wasn’t going to propose? Of course not. They’d known each other only six months and besides, his father had firm ideas as to who should be the future Señora Antonio Garcia.

“Will you come to my father’s house to eat lunch with us on Sunday?”

Helen would have been less surprised by a marriage proposal than this invitation. But she knew Antonio’s father must have approved the invitation, and wasn’t it what she’d been hoping for?

“I’d like that very much,” she said. “I’m sure Eira won’t mind. After all, she didn’t invite me along on her date.”

“I believe I am understanding your sense of humour now my English is improving.”

As she relaxed in his arms once more, Helen knew she’d never felt like this about any of her boyfriends back in the UK.


Tracey Steel

Having worked on a number of magazines over the years, Tracey has found her perfect place on The Friend as she’s obsessed with reading and never goes anywhere without a book! She reads all the PF stories with a mug of tea close by and usually a bit of strong cheese too!