“Come on,” he whispered. “Dinner is served.”
I giggled and left my bed, grabbing my own stripy dressing gown and a pair of thick socks.
“What are you doing?” I breathed into his ear, but he simply took my hand and pulled me down the dark corridor toward the open-plan lounge.
“Have a seat,” he invited me and gestured at the dining table, which was once again laid, although only for two, complete with candles and napkins.
He set down the bottle and glasses and scurried off to shut the lounge door. While he busied himself in the kitchen, I basked in the heat from the fire which Dan had re-stoked, and observed my rock star with some degree of amusement.
Within a few minutes, he brought a dish of smoked salmon bites to the table, followed by olive bread, a cheese board, various cold meats, olives, pickled anchovies, and prawns with some sort of aioli dip. He popped the cork on the bottle of champagne, poured two glasses, and sat down, satisfied at last.
“Now we can eat,” he announced. “Tapas. What do you think?”
I raised my glass. “Cheers,” I giggled. “So that’s what you meant earlier. I think it’s amazing. It’s like a midnight feast. I’m just waiting for matron to discover us and give us detention. Why all the secrecy?”
Dan speared a prawn and pointed it at me. “Well, for one, as you say, matron will certainly come and give us detention. Peter is very strict on my sleep regimen, you see.” He dipped the prawn into the aioli before popping it into his mouth. The beatific look on his face and his scrunched up eyes suggested he was enjoying this humble treat far more than was warranted.
He swallowed and cleared his throat. “And for another, I’m on a strict diet. Every last bit of cheese gets weighed, the carbohydrates counted, the sugar added up. It’s really tedious.” He grimaced.
I helped myself to some bread and salmon. “Tedious indeed, I can see that. But why? I thought you were supposed to eat lots and get better.” I chewed greedily, my tummy having given an impressive rumble.
Dan speared another prawn and added a mountain of cheese and bread to his place. “Bliss,” he murmured before explaining further. “I’m supposed to eat healthy, not lots. So Peter has taken it upon himself to reform the bad eating habits of a lifetime. Bless him, it’s what he’s paid to do. I’ve been going along with it, and I have to admit, I’m feeling pretty good. But…”
He grinned his school-boy grin, took a big mouthful of food, washed it down with a large gulp of champagne, and finished his thought. “Well, it gets boring. And I wanted to do something special with you. On my own.”
I burst out laughing, but quieted down when I saw the alarm on Dan’s face.
“Sorry,” I whispered.
“Peter’s bedroom is right next door there,” Dan whispered back. “And he’s a light sleeper.” He pointed his finger, and we sat in silence for a minute, straining to hear.
“I think we’re okay,” Dan finally concluded and resumed eating.
I giggled softly. “Naughty, naughty, us.”
“Ha, we’re not naughty yet,” Dan shot back, speaking softly as well. “I was working up to that part.”
He winked, and my heart skipped and jumped. He didn’t mean—he couldn’t mean what I thought he meant?
“What do you mean?” I bumbled, hoping for clarification, but Dan was enjoying himself.
“All in good time,” he teased. “Let’s finish our meal first.”







