29 » The white cliffs of Dover

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Niall had managed to arrange a boat tour carrying relatively few people compared to the rest of the boats. When we arrived at the ship, I quickly noticed why: it resembled a party yacht rather than an average boat with wooden benches people normally went on.

We were sat on the deck, while I consumed a mocktail mojito. Niall had gone for a glass of Guinness, as he didn't need to drive. I truly didn't understand how people liked Guinness considering it looked like sewer water. 

The people who were on the boat, quickly noticed there was a celebrity among them. None of them dared to approach him but continued their whispers behind their not so subtle hands. I considered my presence to be a contributing factor. I was still a policewoman after all.

We just drove out of the harbor, when I linked eyes with a woman who'd been staring at us for the last minutes. Niall didn't seem to notice, as he went on about a football match.

She had dark hair and wore an expensive looking, yellow flowery summer dress. She had to be around thirty years old, considering her small wrinkles. From this distance, I could see how calloused her hands were - either from an instrument or hard laboured work, though her posture and untrained arms told me otherwise.

There was a man sat next to her. Probably hers, considering they both wore a wedding ring. He wore a grey knee-length pants with an expensive looking blouse. His shoes were made of snakeskin leather, which was a rather odd choice for a town with a beach. He was talking on the phone - one which I presumed was glued to his ear when I judged the woman's posture. His hair was slicked back, and his eyes were covered by which seemed an expensive looking pair of sunglasses.

" Are you still on Earth, or did you move on to another planet?" I heard quietly in my ear. I looked away from the staring woman and her husband and looked at Niall through my sunglasses. " I was just studying people," I said.

Niall pulled his sunglasses down a little as he looked at me. " So you didn't catch any of my summary of last night's game between Barcelona and Paris St. Germain?" He asked, pretending to be insulted. I flashed him a grin and pushed his glasses back up his nose.

" What is there to read?" Niall asked, genuinely interested.

" The man with his leather snakeskin shoes and the woman with the yellow flowery dress are holidaying together, as husband and wife's do. Yet, he's calling - probably business, which annoys the hell out of her. I'd say they've only been together for a few years because their rings are still spotless. Though he does not wear it all the time and something inside me says it's not because he drops it off at Asprey to get it cleaned." 

Niall looked at me, slightly worried. " You can read all that just by looking at them?" He asked.

I nodded. " It's my job, after all." 

" What is it you see when you look at me?" Niall asked. I twisted my body to him and raised an eyebrow. " I already know everything about you." 

" What would you think of me if you didn't know me?" He asked, taking another sip of his dark beer.

" Take off your glasses," I said. Niall did as I said. I cleared my throat as I studied him. " I'd say you'd be honest. I can tell from your eyes - they're as honest as those from puppies. I can tell you've had braces because your teeth are unnaturally straight.  And if I knew you a bit longer, I would be able to tell you're visiting the hairdressers every four weeks, because your hair never seems to grow." 

I grabbed his hand and twisted his palm up. I traced the lines etched in his skin with my pointy finger.

" When I look at your fingers, I can tell you play a stringed instrument. I'd say you play guitar, because your fingers are always in chords, like a C or A minor. You probably never noticed, because you're doing it right now." 

Niall looked at is hand on the table, clearly on a C chord.

" And then there's your accent. I'd guess you're from Ireland, somewhere south, near Dublin. I know you're not from Dublin, but close enough, probably two or three hours driving distance inland. I'd say you've lived in England for a while because your accent isn't as thick. I can tell you visit America a lot, mostly Los Angeles because you use some slang words, and again, the accent." 

I wasn't done yet. " You have a bad knee. You've had surgery on it, but it still hurts sometimes. Your walk changes when it does, but only ever so slightly no one would notice, but me. By how you walk, I can tell it's your left knee, and if I were to take you out, I'd hit that spot first." 

A grin spread across his face. " Was all of that in my dossier?" He asked.

" Half of it. The other half I noticed the first time we met, in that office." Niall seemed speechless. I laughed, and grabbed his hand.

" Do I always do that? Form chords with my fingers?" Niall asked when he found back his speech. I nodded, " Yes. You always do." 

Behind us, the gigantic white cliffs appeared. I got up and turned around. Niall followed my lead. " Woah," He breathed. I couldn't have said it better myself.

The green meadow growing on the chalk cliffs was in big contrast with the white, nearly straight cliffs. It was as if we were looking at a piece of art.

Behind me, Niall quietly hummed the tune of White Cliffs Of Dover

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