2.
'So, this is your first time in Barcelona?' Sian asked Sophie as they sauntered down the street in the sun.
Honestly, it wasn't. It wasn't even that long ago since she'd been here last. But there was something about the ways cities twisted and turned; how they camouflaged themselves with the decorations of the seasons; how they morphed between scales and materials that she just couldn't commit the paths she'd walked to memory. The downside of this was that she invariably never remembered the location of that charming little patisserie/cafe /vintage store/amusing graffiti she'd been banging on at people to visit; but the plus side was that she didn't always have to been taken somewhere new for her to be impressed.
But she recognised the feel of the place - the wide main streets with the narrower, winding ones branching off them that constricted and then expanded again into squares with fountains and cathedrals. She looked up. Above them mysterious grotesque gargoyle heads appeared at the ends of stone gutters, eroded into even further distortion by centuries of rain and sun.
Sophie scrunched her up her features. 'No,' she admitted, fidgeting with the strap of her bag as she walked. 'When Rosie – that's my sister – was thinking of movin' here, we were down here quite a lot. Me, me Mam and me Dad, findin' a suitable place. Makin' sure she wasn't carryin' on with any dodgy 'señors' to get a discount rate,' she grinned.
'Got a reputation has she?' Sian asked.
'Could say that,' Sophie agreed.
The central paving was strewn with midday diners, draining the dregs of their wine before they had to return to what was left of the day as waiters hung by the archways of restaurants tapping their feet, eager for them to leave. Children played in the shade of the plane trees, chasing each other through the dappled sunlight and giggling with the simple humour and delight that you lose the second you hit fourteen.
'Well, this is the 'Barrio Gotico',' Sian explained, 'it's the old part of the city.'
Sophie nodded, her flip-flops making sticking sounds as her heels adhered to their inner soles in the heat. 'I've been to this bit before,' she revealed.
'Yeah? Did you like it?' Sian asked.
Sophie nodded again, brushing her finger tips along the rough stone of a building as they walked past it. 'I loved it,' she admitted. 'I remember ...' Sophie stopped speaking. The girl was just doing her a favour, she reasoned. She probably didn't want to hear trivial details of Sophie's previous visits. 'Never mind,' she said with a shy smile.
'No go on,' Sian encouraged, her eyes bright and searching.
'Well ...' Sophie seemed unsure, 'I remember this sculpture, in some water, in a square. I ... I liked it,' she said with a shrug, failing to go into the intricate detail of exactly why she had found the place so poignant.
'Doesn't really narrow it down,' Sian said, her expression turning vaguely apologetic.
'It doesn't matter,' Sophie dismissed the whole notion. 'I'm sure I'll find it again one day.' It was a lie, she didn't trust her ability to find it ever again.
Sian fell quiet briefly then, like she was searching her internal database of Barcelona locations, cross-referencing her files: water/statue/square.
Sophie found herself watching her closely – her gaze lingering on the way her body moved as she walked, how she bit her lip and scratched at the tip of her nose as she thought – then looked away bashfully as Sian made eye-contact. 'How ... um ... how far away are we?' Sophie asked, in an effort to absorb the silence.
'Not much further,' Sian revealed.
Sophie stopped walking and Sian glanced mischievously back over her shoulder at her. 'But you said I'd got it really wrong!' Sophie whined.
Sian bit her tongue between her teeth in a way that Sophie thought was more adorable than she could've ever imagined, watching as she slipped her thumbs through her denim belt loops. 'I may have jus' been messin' with ya,' Sian said, curving her spine so her hips were thrust forward slightly and twisting her torso from side to side.
'Make a habit of messin' with complete strangers do ya?' Sophie asked, folding her arms.
Sian shrugged, 'Only when I think it'll be funny,' she answered.
'Lucky for you I have an excellent sense of humour,' Sophie said, beginning to walk again.
'Well I've always been lucky,' Sian said, walking beside her for a mere five paces before stopping again. 'Your destination madam,' she said, extending a palm towards a door to her left.
Sophie noticed the 36 on the door, commiserating herself at least having got the number correct.
'You went west at this intersection instead of east,' Sian said, pointing to Sophie's map. 'Not that I blame you, the writin's pretty awful.'
'That's my writing,' Sophie told her.
Sian bit her lip. 'Sorry,' she said, before pausing and quirking a sceptical eyebrow. '... really?'
'Yes really,' Sophie answered, snatching the paper back and rapping the door to the correct number 36 sharply with her knuckles.
'Don't get angry,' Sian told her. 'I think it's cute.'
Though Sophie was sure Sian meant 'cute' in a kitten-falling-into-a-sock-drawer sort of way instead of an I-find-indecipherable-handwriting-really-attractive sort of way, it didn't stop the base of her stomach from lurching.
The violent sound of a door being wrenched open made Sophie jump, and only jump further when she was immediately admonished: 'Sophie!' Rosie exclaimed, eyes wide and face pale, 'What do the words 'I'll call you right back' mean to you?' she demanded, extending her arms and pulling Sophie into a brief but unpleasantly tight hug, before releasing her and glaring at her sternly.
Sophie screwed her eyes shut as she remembered. 'Sorry Rosie,' she said, opening one eye with caution. 'I got ... distracted.' She looked down towards the floor, her gaze skimming down the length of Sian's right leg as she did so.
'So I see,' Rosie said, glancing Sian up and down, a smirk creeping across her full red lips.
'Leave it out,' Sophie mouthed menacingly, knowing that exact thought progression that was parading with unwarranted conviction through her sister's mind.
Rosie ignored the threat, extending a hand towards Sian. 'Ho-la, me lla-mo es Ro-sie,' she said, speaking loudly and slowly as if Sian was both deaf and stupid.
'Pleased to meet you,' Sian replied. 'Though it's just 'me llamo' not 'me llamo es',' she corrected.
Rosie blinked. 'Oh my god,' she exclaimed dramatically, 'I've spent hours doing grammar with Paulo and I still can't get hello right,' she despaired.
'Oh right, grammar. Is that what they call in Spain?' Sophie teased, knowingly.
'Shut your face,' Rosie said, not succeeding in suppressing a smile, 'He is gorgeous though. And to think back home I was going out with Jason Grimshaw,' she shuddered before opening her mouth and pointing a finger towards it to indicate some sort of gastric upset.
'Well, I'll leave you two to catch up,' Sian said, backing away from the door into the light of the street.
Sophie whipped round to face her. 'Really? ... um, you have to go now?' she asked. Her arms and hands felt strange, full of a tingling energy, like they wanted to reach out and grab Sian and stop her from leaving. But they remained by her side.
'Yeah I should ... y'know, things to do,' Sian said, retreating ever further. 'But ... you know where to find me,' she added with a grin.
'Yeah right,' Sophie muttered to herself, her mind already drawing a serene and uninterrupted blank as she tried to mentally retrace her steps.
'Hasta luego!' Sian shouted as she turned and walked back up the street, fluttering a hand in their direction as a wave.
'Sayonara!' Rosie shouted after her.
'Rosie,' Sophie said with a disparaging shake of her head, 'that's Japanese. Seriously, what's Paulo been teachin' ya?'