I was going to wait until I go to Italy before I wrote this, but then Miss Puppet had a birthday: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MISS PUPPET!
When Ruth appeared at the top of the main stairs of their hotel Tim spotted her straight away. The inside of the building was beautiful but he thought that in comparison to his Ruth it was ordinary and almost clumsy. He had left their room early to give her some space to get ready without any distractions, and had been sitting at the bar with his eyes fixed on the same spot, waiting for her to appear.
She was dressed in a dark reddish-pink dress that stopped at her shoulders, curving gently around her neck and falling to just above her knees, showing off her beautiful legs for a change. It matched her lipstick, it matched her white pearly earrings, it matched the colouring of her skin. She wore a dark purple shawl thrown around her shoulders, her hair held up in an almost careless way. Tim watched in awe as she descended the stairs. He knew that for her this kind of outfit carried just a hint of daring about it, and he just made out a slight glint in her eyes as she scanned the lobby for him.
It was slightly absurd that her seemingly effortless beauty should still surprise him every time he saw her, but this time it almost made him do a double take. His hand tightened a fraction on the banister at the bottom of the stairs as he looked up at her, meeting her eyes. She saw him and smiled, in her obliviously breath-taking way. Beautiful as the whole of her was- now and always- his eyes could not help but be drawn momentarily to her left hand, where she wore her ring, the ring he had given her when he had married her the night before last.
She stopped on the stair above him so that they were the same height. While looking like this goddess she was still irrevocably Ruth, and her quirkiness shone in her face as she beamed at him. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it, his eyes never leaving hers. There was maddeningly little contact between them and he couldn't help himself; he wrapped his arms carefully around her waist, pressed her body gently towards his and kissed the corner of her cheek by her ear, the loose curls of her hair brushing against his nose. Her arms wrapped loosely round his neck, he heard her laugh quietly and he leant back.
Her wonderful eyes were full of mirth.
"If you carry on like that we'll never make it outside at all," she warned him quietly, "I'll get carried away. Either that, or we'll be thrown out because this is a very nice hotel and I doubt they'll stand for this sort of behaviour in their lobby," she reminded him.
He grinned at her, his hand slipping into hers as she descended the final step. Their fingers fell together, seamlessly intertwining. His fingers nudged against her wedding ring. Turning his head to watch her, he could see that she was smiling at the floor. He kissed her hair briefly as they walked towards the door, inhaling the scent of soap and vanilla and warmth that she carried.
"You're breath-taking," he told her, whispering the thought that he had had earlier, "You must be the most beautiful woman in the whole of Northern Italy tonight. I'm so proud of you."
"Only the North?" she asked, a devilish smile on her lips, her hands beginning to push the revolving door. He cursed the architects for making the sections too small to fit two people and separating them even for a moment.
He went through the door himself and met her on the other side. She had stopped, looking out across the shining water where the sun was just starting to think about setting, tingeing the sky pale pink. Her pose was entirely natural, the colour of her dress matching the scene so well; it looked as if she was waiting for an artist to paint her. He remembered her when he'd first met her. She had always been this wonderful, he concluded, it was only recently that she had started to realise it herself, and then it had shone. He walked up behind her and slipped his hand back into hers. A hint of a smile passed across her lips.
"Beautiful night," she observed, nodding at the wide canal before them and the sun on the buildings on the other side.
"Yes," he agreed.
He felt her head tilt a little towards his shoulder as they stood there, a little way away from their hotel door watching the scene before them, watching the little boats go up and down the canal. By the time they moved it had grown a tiny bit darker.
"We should get going," he told her squeezing her hand slightly, "We'd do best to eat before it gets dark; that is if we still want to go to that concert?"
"Yes, I'd like that," she replied.
"Come on, then," he told her, "Let's go. We can walk, or we can spoil ourselves and go by boat."
"Oh, by boat!" she replied, "That sounds like too much fun to be missed."
"Alright, then, I think we can pick up a gondola just down here."
Tugging gently at her hand he urged her forward, and she followed him happily into the Venice evening.
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