The manager insisted on taking them out to lunch in the town centre, a generous gesture Daniel could have done without. He would have preferred to be alone with Laura, to find out more about her: her career, her family, her childhood. Instead, he settled for watching her laugh and smile with their host, listening to her insightful chatter . . . and somehow he felt lonelier than ever.
****
After lunch, they strolled down to the river to admire the Roman bridge that gave the town its name, and then walked along the shaded riverside path. Daniel slipped his hand into Laura's without saying anything, and she seemed happy to let it be. Her palm felt good in his, their fingers lightly twined. To other strollers, they must have looked like any smart couple out for a post-lunch walk. The notion gave him a small pang.
When ten minutes had passed, he glanced regretfully at his watch. "Okay, time's up."
"I know somewhere interesting you might want to stop on the way back from your next meeting," she told him as they headed back to the car. "It wouldn't be much of a detour, but we'd have to be sure we have time, since I need to get back." She looked at him uncomfortably. "I can't help thinking I'm cramping your style. Coming with you is making your day much shorter than it needs to be. Wouldn't you be better off on your own?"
"No," he said gruffly. "You're not cramping my style—far from it. My days are long enough as it is. And I wouldn't be better off alone. Now shut up and navigate."
They drove further inland to his next meeting at a hotel on the edge of the Peneda-Gerês National Park. The surrounding countryside was stunning. Daniel was courteous and polite, but found himself trying to limit the length of their visit so they could squeeze in the one bit of sightseeing Laura had suggested that day. He wanted to please her, and he also wondered what she would choose to show him.
Never in a million years would he have dreamed up the place she took him to. With half an eye on the time, she directed him to her mystery destination. They parked and walked towards . . .
"What on earth are those?" he asked her, dumbfounded.
"They're called espigueiros. Come on." She led him nearer to the large outcrop of granite, upon which were built a sizeable huddle of . . . well, he didn't know what. They looked like rectangular stone sarcophagi on stilts, with wooden doors, narrow slits in the sides, and some had crosses on top.
"Espi-what?" He got closer, trying to work out what they were.
Laura laughed. "They're grain stores. Nowadays they tend to hold corn more than anything. They were . . ."
"Bom dia!" An old lady dressed in black hobbled towards them, a large and relatively toothless smile on her face.
"Bom dia!" Laura replied, pointing at the espigueiros and beginning a conversation Daniel couldn't hope to understand. The old lady spoke at a hundred miles an hour, but Laura kept up, translating for him while the lady patiently waited her turn again.
"She says they're built on pillars to keep the rats out, and they're made of stone because it doesn't get damp." The old woman pointed out the features as she talked on. "The slits in the sides are so narrow to allow air to circulate but not let rats, mice, or birds in. They've been here for generations."
The old woman gestured for them to follow her, leading them between the stone structures to one in particular. She opened the wooden door to show them the heap of corncobs inside. Daniel raised his eyebrows at the sight.
When the woman had carefully secured the door shut again, Laura laid a hand on the woman's arm. "Obrigada," she told her.
Daniel added his thanks. "Obrigado," he said confidently. Of necessity, he'd picked up half a dozen niceties. It was all well and good holding business meetings in English, but the least he could do was manage the odd please, thank you, hello, and goodbye in the native tongue.
Clearly delighted with his effort, the old lady beamed and shuffled off again.
He watched her go. "Doesn't she boil in all that heavy black garb?" he wondered aloud.
Laura shrugged. "Old traditions die hard." She glanced at her watch. "It would have been nice to walk around Soajo, but we don't have time. Do you mind setting off back now?"
He nodded his head. "That was the agreement." They headed back to the car. "You knew all that already, didn't you? About the espi-whatsits?"
"Of course. But the old lady wanted to tell us about them. She's proud of her heritage. Why spoil it for her?"
Daniel smiled to himself. Laura wasn't as spiky and officious as he'd once taken her to be. She had a real way with people, an empathy and a genuine interest in them. Her students were lucky.
Chapter Seventeen
They got back to the Quinta with minutes to spare before Laura had to open up reception, thanks to some exciting driving by Daniel that did little for her nerves. With no time to go to her room, she went straight to the office to get ready for the evening session.
He followed her in. "Sorry about that."
Laura shook her head. "Don't be. It was me who suggested the detour."
"And I'm glad you did. I might have got around to reading about those things, but I probably wouldn't have made the effort to see them. Thank you."
Laura inclined her head. "You're welcome. Where are we going tomorrow?"
"Coastal road up to Caminha."
"Oooh, I love Caminha!" Laura clapped her hands with pleasure.
Daniel raised an eyebrow. "Well, we've only one hotel to see, so I'm hoping it'll be a more leisurely day. Bring your swimming gear. We might get to spend a little time on the beach."
He headed for the
