Trawling the Net

The waiters murmured in Italian; candles flickered on every table. And there was no fish on the menu. 

          Sitting with his back to the wall, Will unclenched his hands and inhaled the comforting, garlic-infused atmosphere. This would be the last attempt. Living alone wasn’t so bad, and though holidays, for one, could be isolating, at least he’d never again have to embarrass himself by admitting his weakness. His shoulders relaxed.

          Then he saw Finn, tall and slim, his hair shining like burnished copper in the dim light. Even more of a catch than he’d seemed online. 

          Will swallowed and gave a discreet wave. Finn smiled in response, revealing deep laugh lines. 

          "Lovely to meet you, Will." With long, soft fingers, Finn shook Will’s hand and settled himself into the chair opposite. "So, you’re an accountant? I’ve always thought that would be interesting." 

          They continued chatting about work, and Finn confided that his job in theatre management bored him senseless, except when he became absorbed in balancing the books. Will’s frozen heart melted; he confided his love of cruising the oceans, and his excitement about this year’s trip to the glaciers in New Zealand.

          "Actually," Finn’s teeth rested on his bottom lip for a moment, "I wanted to mention…" He paused as the waiter appeared and handed them menus. 

          "We only have one special tonight, lightly-seared tuna steaks." 

          Will shuddered. 

          The waiter left to let them decide. 

          Finn focussed on the menu. "Hmm, it all looks so good."

          Will opened his mouth, but no words came out. If he said anything, Finn would know how ridiculously pathetic he was. Cutlery clinked on china plates; a patron at another table laughed like a barking seal. 

          Finn grinned. "Someone’s having a good time."

          The waiter reappeared.  

          Finn’s copper hair shimmered as he turned to the waiter, "I think I’ll try the fish."

          "And you, Sir?"

          Will’s mind whirled. "Um, what’s got lots of garlic?"

          "The bolognese pasta?"

          "I’ll have that. And a glass of the house red."   

          Finn raised an eyebrow, "Shall we make that a bottle?"

          Will managed a nod.

          As the waiter left, Finn said, "I was about to tell you…"

          "Sorry." Will jumped up. "Back in a tick." He ran to the gent’s and splashed water on his face. 

          This is the perfect man for you, Will. Don’t stuff this up. It’s a steak, just pretend it’s beef. Breathe. 

          Calmer, he returned, "Sorry, Finn. You were saying?"

          The waiter arrived with the wine. 

          Will tipped his glass towards Finn. "Salute!" 

          Tiny lines appeared around Finn’s eyes as he smiled. "Salute!"

          The wine tingled on Will’s lips. He wanted to reach across and touch Finn’s hand. No, too fast. He gestured instead, "Please continue…"

          The waiter brought Finn’s tuna steak. 

          Will’s eyes widened as they encountered a plateful of dark, crusty strips encasing fleshy, bloody, reddish, pinkish... and then the smell, oh the smell! Bile burnt his throat. He clamped his lips shut. He opened them to pour more wine into his mouth. His bolognese arrived. He leaned over and sniffed the rich, garlicky sauce, one inch above the food, nearly burning his nose. Then, he smothered the dish with pungent parmesan.

          "You really like cheese!" Finn cut into a disgusting pink lump.

          Will nodded, trying to keep his eyes down, but they were dragged back across the table by the unfolding horror of Finn placing a forkful of fishy muck into his mouth. Finn chewed. Finn licked a pink scrap off his lip.

          Will’s jaw clenched. He leapt out of his chair and ran. He made it to the hand basin in the gent’s just in time. 

          He washed the regurgitated red wine down the sink. As he rinsed his mouth, he felt a gentle hand on his back. In the mirror, there was Finn, standing behind him.

          "Are you okay?"

          He shook his head, watching the reflection of Finn’s concerned face. Finn would never be interested in someone as pathetic as Will…  

          Finn’s gaze remained steady.

          Did Will really want this one to get away? Did he really want to be alone? What about those lonely holidays?

          He cleared his throat. "Well, you see, I’m umm…"

           Finn nodded, keeping eye contact.

           Will swallowed twice. "I’m really phobic..." he glanced down. "About fish."

          Finn put his hand over his mouth. "Oh no!" Soft snorts of laughter escaped through his fingers.

          Will stepped away, but Finn moved with him, shaking his head, the laughter subsiding. "No, no. Wait… I’ve been trying to tell you all night… I like to let people know straight up—I have a crippling fear of boats." He blinked. "I could never, ever go on a cruise."   

          From the restaurant, the seal barked his merriment.

          Will met Finn’s eyes, and they both roared with laughter. Taking a step forward, Will landed in Finn’s open arms.