Chapter 15
Over breakfast, there’s much chatter about our plans for the day.
Princess invites everyone in the Unlucky in Love Travel Club to share her limo to explore Hamburg.
As they talk, I swing my gaze from table to table, trying to work out which pair of lovebirds are on the rocks.
For some inexplicable reason, I’m invested, having this urge to find out what is going wrong, and feeling a strange sense of hope that they can fix their relationship.
I realise that I want to love to win, even if it’s not happening for me.
But at each table sit harmonious passengers, not a hint of discord among them. They’re making kissy faces. Or intensely gazing at each other. There’s much fondling of necks, backs, arms.
Our late-night chat in the library was fun but we didn’t get far into our investigations as we got sidetracked, talking about our own love lives or lack thereof. Katya and Igor are my prime suspects. They’re too polished. Too performative. It’s got to be them.
I lean close to Jasper to tell him my suspicions but am distracted by the scent of his cologne.
It’s a spicy floral blend that’s somehow utterly masculine.
I have a real thing with powerful colognes and what they evoke, which is somehow a little more X-rated when Jasper plays into the fantasy.
Suddenly I have the strangest urge to sniff him.
I’m sure that wouldn’t be appropriate, no matter how much I explain it’s not him I’m after, it’s the smell of his skin.
Probably a little too Silence of the Lambs’y for the general population to feel comfortable with.
I’ve frozen in place as Jasper turns his head to mine, and his eyes widen at the fact that my face is only millimetres from his.
‘Hi.’ Oh, smooth, Aubrey. I gulp at my awkwardness.
Why can’t I just behave normally? Instead when I’m flustered I become one of those close talkers, which is as sexy as hell. Not.
‘Hi.’
I stretch a smile over my teeth to highlight how relaxed I am. My lips are stuck to my gums. Attractive.
‘Ah, everything… OK?’
‘Yes, yes, fine, good, great.’ I press on and try to ignore how delectable he is.
I mean, smells. When I’m in the vicinity of Jasper, the whole Miles fiasco pales in importance.
Why is that? It doesn’t make sense to me, but I don’t have time to ponder it because Jasper is waiting for me to speak.
‘Ah – with my detective hat firmly pressed on, I’ve come to a conclusion.
Katya and Igor act a certain way; they’re used to being camera ready at all times.
Could it be all smoke and mirrors? I’m sure they’re the couple who have split but continue to play their parts because what else can they do when they’re stuck together like this? ’
Just as the words leave my mouth, there’s a commotion behind us.
I spin in my chair to see what all the fuss is about.
To my utter shock, Igor is down on one knee, holding a box with a diamond that’s so big it’s got its own ecosystem.
Katya’s hand flies to her mouth when he asks if she’ll marry him.
It’s a fast ‘Yes, yes!’ And then the couple embrace to many cheers on the train.
Joining in, I holler and clap for them, but inside I die a little death at the memory of Miles’s proposal and how astonished I’d been and how quickly I changed the course of my life for him.
It’s bittersweet, more bitter if I’m honest. Jasper must sense my outward appearance doesn’t match what I’m feeling inside; that or my usually foolproof rictus smile isn’t convincing.
I am happy for them, I truly am, it’s more that I’m sorry for myself, and by the facial expressions around the Unlucky in Love Travel Club, I’m not the only one.
Sabrina wanders past and gives me a smile. George is trailing behind her, probably ready to jump into action if she knocks anything flying.
Jasper moves his chair close to mine and whispers, ‘Are you OK?’
‘Being surrounded by love’s young dream?’ I try to make light of the sudden heaviness but from the sympathy reflected in Jasper’s eyes, I fail miserably.
The smile Jasper gives me is tinged with sadness too.
For him? For me? For all of us on this table who have tried and failed to find our soulmates?
It truly is beautiful seeing real love play out before us, but it still hurts the sensitive sides of my broken heart, and clearly my new friends feel the same.
‘Do you want to get out of here?’ Jasper is intuitive in a way most people aren’t, or maybe it’s not even intuition – since it’s clear I am husbandless – but a deep sense of empathy.
‘Yes.’
‘We’ll meet you on the platform at ten o’clock,’ Jasper informs our group, who are now being directed to hold their phones with spotlight activated above Igor and Katya’s heads in their quest for the perfect photo.
When Jasper takes my hand, it feels natural, as if he’s just helping me dodge the crowd that has grown thick as staff and passengers gather to witness a proposal and an impromptu photoshoot.
This arouses my suspicions about the influencer couple once again, or maybe I’m as bitter as lemon pith, in my turmoil, that the pendulum swings between being happy for them to insanely envious.
My own proposal sits front and centre of my mind – Miles has surprised me getting down on one knee over a candlelight dinner at his cottage.
Simple, sure, but more my style, without the crowds, and rather nice and intimate.
Even so, I’d been hesitant to say yes – how could our different lives merge?
And Miles didn’t seem like the marrying kind. Turns out he’s not.
Jasper leads me to the library and slides open the ornate gold door. We’re met with the comforting vanilla scent of books.
‘Do you think it’s a sham?’ I ask as I plonk on a plush royal-blue chaise, and I hate myself for voicing such a thing.
‘Igor’s proposal?’ Jasper takes a seat next to me, but the cushion collapses and we sink and roll into each other, our faces almost colliding. He’s so close I can smell the mint of his toothpaste.
‘Sorry!’ He attempts to scoot over but that seesaws me the other way – he quickly clutches my arm and brings me back to him. My heart stutters at his proximity. Am I so desperate that the touch of a guy I barely know sends shockwaves through me? Honestly, yes. Especially when that man is Jasper.
Even Rox, who usually has little regard for most men, can tell from a photo that Jasper is different.
There is a certain aura, a charm about him.
It could all be fake, but somehow, I don’t think so.
Jasper is sensitive in a way that’s rare, not just in men, but all of humankind.
Maybe it’s the writer in him – he observes, stands back and reads the room so well.
‘Right.’ Jasper fixes his shirt. ‘You were asking if Igor’s proposal is real?’
I blow a lock of hair from my face. ‘Yeah, mostly because it’s become another performance, another photo opportunity.
And who proposes at breakfast? Wouldn’t an Eiffel Tower proposal have been more their style, or even under the Aurora Borealis in Lapland?
At breakfast in the dining carriage just seems so… basic, especially for them.’
He rubs his chin as he contemplates it. ‘There’s a lot of natural light at breakfast.’
‘Which makes for good photos. I’m being a bitter crone, aren’t I?’
Jasper shakes his head. ‘Not at all. And part of me wonders if this isn’t some marketing ploy – wouldn’t it be great promotional material for the Winter Wonderland Express? Not only the most romantic holiday, pitched to couples, but the perfect place to propose to your soulmate.’
I nod. ‘Yes, exactly!’
Doubt flashes across Jasper’s features. ‘It makes sense from that perspective, but it’s just…
Igor’s voice was trembling, his hands were shaking.
It was as if he was really, truly nervous about her response.
The man was sweating bullets – why would he fake that?
If it was all a show, he wouldn’t have the deer in headlights panic in his eyes, would he? ’
I shake my head. ‘No, he wouldn’t. Now you say that, he really did seem worried about Katya’s response.’ Proposals must be so nerve-wracking, especially proposals done in public.
‘So perhaps they’re not the mystery break-up.’
I recall Katya’s wide-eyed surprise, the hand on her heart, the way her usual haughty mask slipped into a real smile.
‘It’s not them, no.’
For the newly engaged couple I send a wish up to the universe that they find every happiness. And then I burst into messy tears.