Chapter 13
‘I like you,’ said Leon.
Fen nodded. ‘I like you too.’
‘I mean, really like you. A lot.’
‘Same.’
They were lying side by side on a pair of adjoining sunloungers on the top deck of the ship, facing each other and keeping their voices low because there were other guests probably within earshot. Their hands were touching, their little fingers secretly entwined.
‘I can’t say the next thing,’ Leon went on. ‘Because it’s too soon. I know that.’ He curled his little finger more tightly around hers. ‘But if it wasn’t too soon, I’d definitely be saying it.’
‘You mean you’re really hungry but it’s still another hour before dinner.’
He smiled. ‘I’m talking about something even more important than food.’
She knew. Of course she knew. Every time she saw him, her own feelings towards him grew at what felt like an exponential rate.
‘Anyway,’ said Leon, ‘when we get home, will you come with me to Hetherton? Meet the family?’
A sensation like warm honey pooled in her chest; it was the inevitable next step. ‘If you want me to.’
‘I do.’
‘Will they like me?’
‘They’d be mad not to. My friend Arabella has seen a photo of you.’
‘How? Where?’
‘She follows Jamie online. Someone tagged him in a pic down in the bar, and we’re there in the background. Apparently I was looking a bit . . . smitten, so they’ve been bombarding me with questions.’
‘And what did you tell them?’
His brown eyes glinted with mischief. ‘That I’d met the like of my life.’
At this rate, she was going to have to hope she didn’t run out of heartbeats. Giddy with happiness, Fen said, ‘Let’s hope you’re right.’
Guy was hovering in the reception area when Hattie left the restaurant after dinner. Breaking into that familiar playful smile when he saw her, he said, ‘Fancy a stroll?’
They’d already spent the day together, exploring the city, while Suzanne had been visiting her old university friend in Vicenza. It had been so like old times – the old good times – that she’d half wondered if he might be about to make a move on her.
But that hadn’t happened. Of course it hadn’t; he was with Suzanne now.
Instead, he’d been an entertaining companion and an absolute gentleman, accompanying her around the antiques and vintage jewellery shops he knew she loved to explore, treating her to lunch, making her laugh and reminding her of the way they used to people-watch together in restaurants and make up stories about the other diners around them.
In fact today had been one of the nicest days she’d had in years, until, on her way into the restaurant earlier, a voice behind her had called out, ‘Stop,’ and the voice had belonged to Suzanne.
‘What is it?’ Turning, Hattie had felt her heart skip a beat. Was she about to be roundly told off for spending the day with Guy?
But Suzanne only said, ‘The label’s sticking out the top of your dress.’
‘Oh, thanks.’
‘Don’t mention it.’ She tucked it back in. ‘Goodness, it says size sixteen. You should probably cut that out so people don’t see it.’
It hadn’t even been said snidely. The words had been uttered in a concerned, caring way.
Now, two hours later, Hattie said to Guy, ‘Where’s Suzanne?’
The angelic, fat-shaming assassin.
‘Bedtime story.’
‘OK.’
They walked off the ship together and were soon away from the busy waterfront, melting instead into the maze of back streets and canals behind it.
The sun had set and the ornate pink-tinted glass of the street lamps cast rose-gold pools of light onto the paving stones below, the warm night air enveloping them like silk.
She knew what was coming next, had been expecting it all day. It hadn’t happened then, but of course with fewer people around and under cover of darkness, it was about to.
As they approached one of the tiny stone bridges crossing a narrow canal, Guy reached for her hand and slowed to a halt.
‘What?’ said Hattie.
‘Look up.’
Following the direction of his pointing finger, she saw, in the gap between the high buildings on either side of them, a gleaming full moon.
‘La bella luna,’ he proclaimed with a sweeping gesture of his left arm, and she laughed because he was quoting from Moonstruck, the movie starring Cher that had been her favourite for so many years.
Maybe it still was; she hadn’t seen it since their break-up.
But it had been something they’d both loved to watch, lying in bed together and reciting all the best lines as they appeared on the screen.
‘La bella luna!’ Hattie echoed.
Then Guy said, ‘I’m in love with you,’ and she laughed again, because this was Nicolas Cage’s line.
In the film, Cher responded by slapping him across the cheek and telling him to snap out of it.
Hattie did the pretend slaps – first one side, then the other – and was about to utter Cher’s immortal line when Guy reached up and clasped her hand.
‘I’m not joking. I am still in love with you. And no, I can’t snap out of it.’
She’d been expecting something, but not this. Definitely not this.
‘I thought you were going to try and kiss me. To see if you could.’
‘And I’d like to. But I want you to know it’s more serious than that.’
‘You’re here on holiday with another woman. Who, by the way, thinks I’m the size of a house.’
‘She worries about other people’s weight,’ said Guy.
‘I’m not that overweight! I’m comfortable—’
‘I know, I remember.’ The twinkle was back in his eye.
‘I’m comfortable in my own body, you moron,’ said Hattie.
He flashed a grin. ‘I remember that too. And I’m sorry, I know it isn’t ideal, her being here, this happening now.
But what can I do? I need you to know how I feel.
I had no idea that seeing you again was going to affect me this much.
It really did, though. I don’t know if you even realise it, but our divorce broke me. ’
He was saying it as if he meant it. She stared at him in disbelief. ‘The reason we got divorced was because you very nearly broke me. You weren’t exactly husband of the year.’
‘I know that now. And I’m so sorry. Looking back, it was entirely my fault.
When you said you’d had enough and the marriage was over, I should have fallen to my knees and begged for another chance, but my stupid pride got in the way.
I was ashamed of how I’d behaved, but you’d made up your mind and I was sure you wouldn’t let me change it.
I made a massive mistake, the stupidest mistake of my life.
’ He took a step closer, reached for her hands.
‘But I’ve learned from it, too. I really think I’m a better person now. ’
‘Except you’re here on holiday with your girlfriend and telling another woman you still love her.’
‘It sounds bad when you put it that way.’
‘Because it is bad, Guy!’
‘OK.’ He sighed. ‘I’m sorry. All I wanted to do was tell you how I felt .
. . how I feel about you. I know I made mistakes in the past, I take full responsibility for that.
But I’ve grown up since then, I promise.
I lost you, and that was all down to me.
But . . . Oh, forget I said any of this.
I was right about you never changing your mind.
You’ve built a new life for yourself, and that’s a good thing.
I’m happy for you. Come on, let’s get back to the ship. I won’t bother you again, I promise.’
Hattie felt her stomach drop; it was like walking past a bakery, spotting a single immaculate cupcake in the window and wondering idly whether to treat yourself, then seeing it being bought by someone else.
What had been mildly tempting thirty seconds ago suddenly became the cake you wanted more than anything else in the world.
Guy had turned and was starting to make his way back along the footpath. Glancing up, she saw the velvet-dark sky and that glowing full moon again.
La bella luna, shining down on them, bringing back memories of happier times.
She was only human, after all.
And what was wrong with being a size sixteen anyway?
Catching up with Guy, she reached for his arm and swung him round to face her.
‘I’ve given you my word,’ said Guy. ‘I’m not going to pester you.’
‘One kiss,’ said Hattie. ‘Just the one. For old times’ sake.’
She saw his quick intake of breath. But he didn’t hesitate. She closed her eyes, drowning in the sense of delicious, never-forgotten familiarity, because kisses were as individual as fingerprints, and this was something Guy had always been good at.
He hadn’t lost his touch.
Flushed with success, she drew away after thirty seconds or so. Perhaps forty. Maybe a minute.
‘Hattie.’ He tried to pull her back for more.
‘That’s it.’ She shook her head. ‘Done. Now we need to get back to the ship.’
‘You’re killing me.’
She was glad that he couldn’t see her smiling in the darkness. ‘Good.’
*
A couple of hours later, Hattie was happily chatting with a professional portrait artist called Marla when Suzanne appeared in the bar in front of her.
‘I found something I think belongs to you.’ As she said it, she was digging in her handbag, and Hattie’s guilt knew no bounds, because even if it was a completely impossible scenario, what if she pulled out a pair of size sixteen lacy knickers?
What if she had followed them off the ship and had been spying on them when she’d initiated that kiss?
Oh God, karma was out to get her; what had she been thinking?
Suzanne said, ‘These are yours, aren’t they?’ and held up a pair of sunglasses.
The relief.
‘Yes! I thought I’d lost them.’ They were her favourite pair, a massive bargain from TK Maxx, three years old now but still in one piece and miraculously unscratched.
‘You left them on a sunlounger up on deck. I managed to rescue them in time before one of those Texans sat on them.’
‘Thank you so much.’ Hattie clutched them to her chest and felt even more guilty. Suzanne was a good person after all. Maybe they could be friends and—
‘If you don’t mind me saying so, they don’t do you any favours. When you have such a round face, that style of frame is the last thing you should go for. Here, try these on and I’ll show you what I mean.’ Suzanne produced her own dark glasses from her bag and passed them over.
Dumbfounded, Hattie put them on.
After studying her from all angles, Suzanne shook her head sorrowfully. ‘Oh dear no, take them off, those don’t suit you either. They make you look even worse.’