‘Um, does Pilates count?’ I joked.
‘Right,’ said Finlay, ‘can I get back to my group and see you later? Say 2 p.m.? You can brief me then on what you need.’
I nodded gratefully. ‘That sounds perfect, thank you, Finlay. It’ll be me, our camera operator, Lou, our presenter, Ruthie, and our producer, Tim. Ruthie can be a little …’
‘Difficult?’ suggested Aidan.
I nodded, holding up my thumb and forefinger to indicate that he was right. ‘Just a tiny bit.’
‘We’ll soon have her out on the water,’ said Finlay, clearly used to people feeling a bit nervous. ‘And tell her she can’t be wearing one of her posh dresses,’ he added with a wink over his shoulder as he headed back to the diving group.
I looked out at the lake, trying to look all relaxed and as though I wasn’t aware of Aidan watching me.
‘I’ll see you this afternoon, then,’ he said.
‘Sure,’ I replied, keeping it very casual.
I realised that I was going to have to be the one to move and forced myself to put one foot in front of the other. It didn’t feel natural, though. Not at all.
‘Enjoy your dive,’ I called over my shoulder.
He gave me a nervous grimace and joined Finlay and the others and I started the walk back to the hotel, looking over my shoulder about twenty-five times even though I knew that if he caught me, I would look very uncool and slightly desperate.
Chapter Five
I lay in bed with Nick snoring softly next to me. He didn’t snore at home because if he did, I’d go as far as to say I would have been reluctant to move in with him. I was a bad sleeper at the best of times, but tossing and turning with someone snorting and snuffling in my ear all night had been next-level torture. I was now in that horrible limbo where I was too exhausted to get up, but not tired enough to actually sleep. I thought it must be morning, although the curtains were so thick, I couldn’t tell if it was light outside or not.
I felt around for my phone (noting that even that small act took extreme effort), checking the time: 7.13. Relief. I could legitimately get up instead of lying here thinking about how strange the night before had been. The conversation around the table had gone from fine wines (which I’d strategically stayed out of after my Montepulciano disaster) to Florentine must-sees (I’d tried my hardest to chip in with this one and had even managed to give an interesting fact about the Boboli Gardens that nobody knew because I’d read it in my Rough Guide on the train) to climate change and – the worst – Meghan and Harry. Of course, Rosamund just ‘didn’t trust’ Meghan. Based on what, it wasn’t entirely clear (although I could hazard a guess). And then, of course, Peter had said he thought we ‘didn’t look dissimilar’, which he probably thought was a compliment but hadn’t felt like one.
Nick stirred next to me.
‘What time is it?’ he mumbled.
It was the first time he’d woken since his head had hit the pillow at just gone midnight. I envied him the ability to sleep anywhere. He’d managed to sleep through most of the train journey from Paris to Turin too, which had wound me up no end. It was all right for him: he’d practically woken up and we were there! I, on the other hand, had fidgeted around for hours on end, tried and failed to get into a new book and made endless, pointless journeys to the ‘buffet car’, which was essentially a vending machine full of disappointing sandwiches and Italian biscuits. I must have had at least five cups of weak, black tea, just for something to do.
‘Quarter past seven,’ I whispered. ‘Go back to sleep.’
Yep, not only did Nick sleep like a baby all night, but he loved long, luxurious lie-ins when he got the chance. I did too, sometimes, but not if I had something on my mind. Like Aidan, who had been flashing in and out of my thoughts for hours now. If I was here on my own, I would have left the hotel immediately so that I never had to see him again.
I’d worked hard to stop thinking about him. It had been overwhelming at first, a sort of loss, I supposed, even though we’d only been together for just over a month. Other than Lou, I’d never told anyone how crap I’d felt when he’d left because I knew it sounded ridiculous – how could I have been that upset about a ‘relationship’ ending after four weeks? And yet, I’d had no control over it – I’d wished and wished that I could just chalk it up to experience; could have told myself that he clearly wasn’t the person I thought he was and therefore I’d had a lucky escape. But nothing had worked, not for months. Meeting Nick had helped, but not entirely. And now here was Aidan, throwing a spanner in the works yet again.
I was incensed, if the truth be told. Stupid Aidan and his stupid charming personality and his ridiculously handsome face. With any luck, he’d have bolted overnight, too scared to confront me – and the truth – about what had happened between us and why he’d morphed into a different person overnight.
Nick pulled me into his arms. I tried to relax into them.You’re with Nick now, I told myself.You are safe and loved and getting married.
‘How did you think last night went?’ he asked softly, stroking his fingers up and down my leg.
‘OK,’ I said.
This was my chance. I’d been wondering when – if – I should mention Aidan to Nick, and this would be the perfect opportunity to slip it in. A sort of:the evening was great, but I was kind of thrown by seeing my ex-boyfriend sitting at the table behind us.
‘You were pretty quiet,’ said Nick.
‘I didn’t think I was.’ Anyway, what was wrong with being quiet? I hated it when people used that as a veiled insult. Were we all supposed to be guffawing loudmouths like Sophia?
‘You weren’t letting my mother intimidate you, were you? She’s quite a … strong character.’
That was one way of putting it. And what did that even mean? In my opinion, it was perfectly possible to be a strong woman and to not be rude. To be a strong woman and to not assume your opinions were always right. It seemed like a lame excuse for not caring about upsetting other people.