Chapter 15
Going back to Spain was like slipping on a warm, favourite jumper.
To be suddenly surrounded by his own language was like sinking into a hot bath. It was a comfort he hadn’t known he wanted. The signs were like a cool compress over aching eyes. The voices were like music to his ears—albeit badly-sung music. The Valencian accent was just appalling.
Andreas never involved himself much in booking their holidays. He wasn’t a fussy traveller—hostels were as good as five-star hotels to him—but he was pleasantly surprised by the hotel that Jo had picked out. They always booked like a pair of straight couples, then swapped. The room that theoretically was for him, Lauren and their daughter was enormous, and Erik groaned when he saw the bed.
“If I want a cuddle in the night, I might
