Frogs’ Legs

Maisy stared at the plate on the bar in a state of disgusted horror, or was it horrified disgust? Whatever it was, she couldn’t take her eyes off the slimy, translucent shapes in front of her. Trip Advisor had said that this was the best bar to try the tapas in the whole of the Basque country, but Maisy was beginning to wish she’d never set foot in the place. Not just the restaurant, but the whole of northern Spain. It was meant to be a culinary tour to delight the taste buds but so far her taste buds had been thoroughly underwhelmed.

‘Ah frogs’ legs,’ said Adam looking over her shoulder, ‘shall we try some?’

Maisy shook her head.

This holiday had been Adam’s idea. Let’s go to San Sebastian, he’d said. Let’s try their pinchos he’d said. Best food in Europe he’d said. Maisy had nodded dumbly. She was besotted with Adam, or at least was besotted by the thought of Adam. He was tall, intelligent, well travelled, in theory he was her perfect man. But in practice he was less than perfect. First holidays are always make or break times for relationships; thrust together for a longer period of time it was when you started to notice the little things that quickly turn into big things. On this trip Maisy soon realised that she would always be competing with someone else for Adam’s affections, and that someone else was Adam.

The other thing she’d discovered was that her idea of a good feed and Adam’s were completely different. She’d imagined big plates of rustic food, and fresh salads all washed down with the finest red wine. But what she got in San Sebastian was finger food that had been out on the bar for god knows how long. In every bar it looked the same and looked like Mum had gone to Iceland. Fair play Adam had mostly ignored the stuff on the bar and had ordered the specials. But even that left a lot to be desired. She’d eaten almost an entire face; beef cheeks, ox tongue, pork ear and none of it had floated her boat. But Adam was wild about it. Did he really like it or was he just being cool?

The weirdest thing about these frogs legs were that stretched out on the plate waiting to be grilled they looked like miniature, muscular human legs, like swimmers diving into a pool. There was no way she was going to eat them. No way in the world. One of them reminded her of something but she couldn’t think what.

To her great relief Adam didn’t order them either, she didn’t think she could kiss someone who put those in his mouth.

Maisy was sitting on her bed now checking Facebook and her emails enjoying some alone time. But it was all too short, Adam was back, coming in the room rubbing his hair on his towel.

‘Water’s lovely’ he said. She smiled, she’d not let Adam talk her into frogs’ legs or a late night swim. ’I’m gonna take a shower.’ he said. She watched him go into the bath room, his tight arse in his speedos and his pale muscular legs slightly bowed at the knees, it was then she realised what those legs on a plate had reminded her of earlier that evening.