They returned to the garden flat, each carrying their chosen book, in time for lunch.
"How about I put together a few sandwiches, and we'll go to the Headquarters after we'll have eaten?" Siena proposed, clutching The Little Prince to her heart, which was overflowing with the sort of excitement she had not felt in years, not since she was a little girl. She couldn't stop the most memorable scenes of the book replaying in her mind, the migratory birds carrying the boy from his planet, the rose who made him want to leave, the pilot lost in the desert, the fox looking for a friend, the snake in search of a victim, the Little Prince dying...
"All right. You prepare lunch, I'll empty the dishwasher and start the dryer, and then we get ready to leave. Do you think we should call someone and tell them that we are coming?" James asked, already kneeling by the washing machine.
Siena shrugged. "I suppose there's always someone in the Headquarters. Let's just walk there and see. If we won't find anyone, we can call them from there."
She placed her copy of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry's The Little Prince on top of his book of Andersen's Fairy Tales, which contained The Little Mermaid. It was such a wonderful choice, Siena mused, she had always felt sad for the mermaid who, unlike in the cartoon version, died at the end of the original story because the prince for whom she had given up everything, couldn't love her enough.
They ate in silence, each leafing through their book, rereading the parts they considered the best moments to jump into the plot and change a detail that would rearrange the consequent events into a happier ending for their unfortunate hero, their concentration only disturbed by their legs touching under the table, at first by chance, then by volition, making them both smile and cast glances at each other when they thought they were not looking, until they found it impossible to focus on the printed words any longer.
"I'll get the dishes; you go get ready. I think we should carry these with us," James said finally, feeling utterly confused by the effect her presence had on him and content at seeing that she was far from indifferent to him. Her racing heart, betrayed by the jewel oscillating among her water lilies and her flushed cheeks, were all that he needed to understand that their attraction was mutual.
She nodded, and cleared her voice as she stood up from her chair and collected the books before saying, "I'll carry them, my handbag is big enough for both, they won't get wet in the rain. I also have a huge umbrella, so we shouldn't get wet either. Meet you by the garden door in ten minutes." She smiled, then vanished quickly into her room, leaving him to clear the table.
It took him five minutes to wash the two plates and glasses they had used, and another five to fish his navy blue rain jacket and a pair of waterproof shoes from his luggage. He exited his room the moment she dropped her handbag and umbrella on the white wooden floor by the sitting room's armchair before she disappeared into the bathroom.
She was back out a couple of minutes later, looking gorgeous in her ash rose rain jacket falling to her mid thighs, her hair freed from the braid she wore in the morning now cascading in golden waves almost to her waist.
"I... Sorry. You look wonderful. The colour really suits you, all pastel colours do," James muttered as she noticed him staring at her and raised a questioning eyebrow, his mind busy sketching a mental portrait of her, a sketch he would turn into a painting back home. The painter in him loved how she didn't wear make-up; she looked more beautiful and unique this way, her features easier to learn and remember.
Siena smiled and returned the compliment. "You look great yourself. Navy blue looks wonderful with your hair." She giggled, then added when he raised an eyebrow at her in his turn, "Sorry, it's just that Dante's favourite blanket is the same colour."
She collected her bag and umbrella and stepped into the rainy afternoon at his side. While he locked the door, she opened the umbrella, a huge, transparent thing big enough to shelter them both from the relentless raindrops, then she let him take it from her and laced her arm through his.
"It looks like an overgrown, floating jellyfish," James said, observing the umbrella as they followed a narrow, gravel path across the lush, wet lawn of the garden.
He opened a low, black, wrought-iron garden gate hinting at the end of the property for her, and they found themselves on a well trodden path, which ran parallel to the wide, languid river. They turned left, their feet squelching through the mud with each step.
"It does," she agreed, smiling. "I have always had one of these, I love them because I can see the raindrops falling from the sky, and it feels like magic, walking in the rain and not getting wet."
"That's true," he said, never having thought of it that way before.
They walked in silence only disturbed by the sucking sound of their footsteps and the pelter of raindrops exploding upon hitting the taunt layer of the pellucid plastic above their heads, inhaling the petrichor reaching them from the waterlogged riverside gardens they passed by, both too intent upon how strangely good it felt to have a reason to touch, her arm resting upon his, his breath caressing her hair each time he looked down at her, her hip brushing against his thigh with every step they took.
"So what shall we do for your Little Prince?" James asked finally, finding the silence maddening. The bubble of intimacy their umbrella presented on this rainy afternoon upon this deserted path was making him want to kiss her... Would she push him away if he tried? Would she take a step away from him upon hearing how husky his voice sounded?
Siena didn't step away from him, making him regret his lack of courage for not attempting to kiss her. She simply replied, clearing her voice first, "The Little Prince mustn't die. But I don't want him to miss his journey either. Both he and his Rose needed him to leave in order to return. Only this way, they'll be able to appreciate each other for what they are, to really fall in love."
She looked up at him, and he noticed how the raindrops scattering above them reflected in her eyes, making them glisten as if she were crying.
"I think we should walk into the plot just before the snake can bite him and send him back home somehow. I always thought that he had spent so much time travelling from one planet to another that it might be the time for the flock of the migratory birds to fly by on its homeward-bound journey," she added when he only kept looking at her, speechless.
"That's a great idea. Maybe we could just wish them to fly by in that moment, and they will, as if we wrote them into our version of the story. I guess we will just have to try and see," James said, taking his eyes off her at last as they walked by a floating restaurant, a large, ancient-looking steamer moored to a small dock.
"If it's open on our way back, we could have dinner there," he proposed.
"Sounds good," Siena agreed. "Now tell me what you plan to do for your Mermaid?"
"Something similar as you proposed for your Little Prince. I would allow her to have the experience; she would never be happy without visiting the world of humans. I don't believe we could make her Prince love her though, so I suppose the best thing would be talking to the Sea Witch and persuade her to change that deal she made with the Mermaid's sisters. Change it into something the poor girl would be actually willing to do in return for being allowed to go back home. Killing her beloved Prince on his wedding night was an impossible task."
Siena nodded, then observed the imprints her grey wellington boots were leaving in the coffee-coloured mud for a while before she replied, "And if the Sea Witch won't agree?"
"Then we will have to steal the potion, the anti-serum of whatever she gave the Mermaid to grow legs. I always thought she must have it but didn't want to give it to her. Maybe that's where we should start in the story, follow the Mermaid into the Sea Witch's cave, look around, steal the potion, and then fast-forward ourselves in the plot, to the wedding night on the ship."
"That's... such a clever plan," Siena looked up at him again, admiration brightening her irises, making them look like two pieces of dark amber. "It's also so much more complicated and dangerous than mine, I mean, we would have to dive into the witch's lair... Goodness, I'm terrified of diving but I'll do this, I just hope that we can help the Little Prince first and try how good we're at this, before we jump into more dangerous plots..."
"Here we are," James said suddenly, disturbing her train of thought.
The path under their feet split in two. One continued skirting the river while the other swerved left, meandering around a property they both recognised easily by the flashes of white walls of the imposing Victorian house they could glimpse through the jungle-like vegetation trembling and scattering in the rain.