They went to the Alentejo for a week.
Not abroad — there'd been talk of somewhere further, somewhere with the specific distance of a honeymoon. But they'd both, when they actually considered it, found they wanted somewhere that was still Portugal. Close enough that Daniel's world wasn't disrupted past what he could manage, far enough that it was genuinely away.
They left Daniel with Helena, who had already prepared the guest room and an educational programme involving card games and the estate garden and a planned trip to a museum Daniel had expressed interest in. Daniel had said goodbye to them both with the equanimity of someone who had adequate plans.
The Alentejo house was a friend of Leonardo's — an old farmhouse with thick walls and a cork oak plantation and nothing much for kilom
