And I remember why I love Malta.
The people are so happy here, so laid-back and carefree. They have a true southern European attitude, one that repels stress and embraces life. I love it. It is one of the reasons why I have such great memories of being here when I was a child. Even as a kid, I felt the absence of worry and stress here in this beautiful place.
I sip at my coffee, which is delicious. It is strong and perfect, with just the right amount of cream and sugar. I rifle through my little notebook, the one that I carry everywhere to make notes about people’s personalities. I’m not in the mood to speak with random strangers today but it must be done. So I sigh and get up and start introducing myself to these happy Europeans.
It doesn’t end up being as difficult as I’d thought it would be.
I end up with a couple of offers for coffee with potential new friends and a couple of requests for my phone number from men. And several pages of notes about these very same people. I need to return home and transcribe my notes into typewritten pages but first I have to navigate the market. I don’t cook but I still need to eat.
I wind my way through the streets, hunting for a market. I don’t see one.
So, I stop and ask a kind looking elderly woman. She’s very friendly, but I quickly realize that she doesn’t understand English. Her frail-looking husband doesn’t either. I am saved by a kind younger man who sees me struggling to understand.
“Miss, I couldn’t help but overhear,” he tells me in perfect English with a charming Maltese accent. His blue eyes sparkle and I can’t help but notice that he is handsome. “Do you need directions to the market?”
I nod gratefully.
“I do. Thank you so much. I’m afraid I’m a little turned around. I don’t know where to go to hail a taxi.”
The stranger laughs and he doesn’t seem so strange now. Something about him immediately feels familiar and friendly and he puts me at ease.
“You won’t need a taxi,” he tells me. “Once you reach the heart of the city, which is where we are now, you can walk anywhere you need to go.”
Ah. That must be why I remembered it being so.
“Come, “he tells me. “My name is Adrian and I will just show you the way.”
“I’m Eva Talbot,” I tell him. “Thank you so much.”
“Adrian Leopoldo,” he answers. “You are most welcome. It is a pleasure meeting you.” He is charming and friendly and we chat the entire way to the market and I decide that it is a pleasure to meet him. I can certainly use a friend here. And the fact that he is handsome is certainly not a detriment.
“Do you live here in town?” I ask him as we approach the busy marketplace. He shakes his head.
“No, I live outside of town. You?”
I shake my head. “No. I live outside of town, too.”
Adrian grins. “Well, that’s a coincidence. Perhaps we’ll bump into each other outside of town sometime.” I can’t help but gravitate towards his grin. He’s impossibly cheerful and I find that I quite like it.
Open.
Honest.
Cheerful.
I make my silent list of his personality traits. I’m fairly certain that I’m spot on with him.
“Eva?”
Adrian is looking at me and I realize that he’s probably said my name more than once.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I was thinking about something else.”
“It’s okay,” he smiles. “I was just wondering if you’d like to have dinner tonight? You’re new here and far too beautiful to sit in your house alone.”
He’s flirting. It occurs to me in a rush and I don’t mind it at all. He’s handsome and funny and nice. Why would I mind?
“Of course. And how very kind of you to think about my welfare,” I tell him with a smile. “I found this charming little bistro on the beach last night. Marianne’s. Do you know it?”
He nods. “Of course. Everyone knows Marianne. Shall I pick you up at 7:00?”
I smile again. “It’s not very far from my house. I can meet you there if you prefer.”
But Adrian is already shaking his head.
“Haven’t you heard? A young woman was killed last night, not too far from Marianne’s. She is the second one in a month. The polizia haven’t determined if it is foul play or a wild animal of some sort. Either way, it’s best that you not wander around after dark by yourself, Eva.”
My gaze is frozen to his as I remember the shrill scream that I had heard last night on the beach. Could that have been the girl? If so, I was mere yards from her as she was killed. That seems impossible. But then, as I remember the spooky feeling in the air on my way home, I shiver.
“A wild animal?” I ask quietly, in horror. “What kind of wild animal does Malta have that could kill a person?”
Adrian is subdued. “Apparently, both girls had injuries that were indicative of a wolf attack, although Malta doesn’t have indigenous wolves. A few years back, a handful of wolves escaped from a zoo. It is speculated that they have bred and their pack has grown. There are stories of farmers who have lost cows to these wolves. So we know that they are still out there.”
“Rogue wolves?” I am horrified at the notion but it is slightly intriguing too. I always find myself rooting for the underdog. And wolves that were contained in a zoo and then escape to find a life of freedom are certainly underdogs. But are they killers?
“I don’t know,” Adrian answers. “It seems far-fetched to me. From what I’ve always heard, wolves don’t attack humans unless they are cornered. But what do I know? I’m not a wild-life expert. But they say that both of the girls had their throats ripped out which is apparently what a wolf will do. It’s horrifying. So, in the meantime, until they figure this out, you should keep your doors locked and don’t travel by yourself after dark. Okay?”
I nod.
“And I’ll be around to pick you up at 7:00,” he confirms.
I nod again, then tell him where my cottage is and he waves and is off. I find myself looking forward to our little date tonight, which is slightly surprising since I’ve been utterly fascinated with Luca Minaldi ever since I laid eyes upon him yesterday and Adrian is a far cry from Luca.