‘Is it a yes?’ he prompted, doubt crossing his face for a second.
‘Yes,’ I heard myself saying at last, not wanting to keep him hanging. ‘It’s a yes.’
And then a huge cheer broke out and a few people raised their plastic flutes in our direction and Nick stood up, kissed me hard on the mouth and slid the biggest diamond I’d ever seen onto the ring finger of my left hand. Then he picked me up and spun me around, holding me so tightly I could barely breathe.
‘You’ve just made me the happiest man alive!’ he said.
I laughed, begging him to put me down. ‘Nick! Stop, please!’
He placed me carefully back on the ground and I held on to the fence for support. It was like he couldn’t stop smiling and, in response, neither could I. My God. I was going to have an actual husband, which sounded weird now, but presumably I’d get used to it. I was going to have a wedding to plan. A dress to buy. Bridesmaids to choose. A life to lead with someone.
‘Does this mean I get to meet your elusive family at last?’ I teased, breathless from all the spinning.
A beaming Nick ran his thumb across my cheek.
‘Absolutely. How does five days in Florence next month sound?’
Chapter One
Four Weeks Later
Florence was even more beautiful than I’d imagined, I realised, as our taxi navigated the narrow streets, its wheels bumping expertly over the cobbles. Compared to London, everything looked perfectly polished and squeaky clean, and people weren’t rushing around barging into anyone who dared to get in their way like they tended to at home. There weren’t even any crowds scrabbling for a look at one of the famous sights like there were in Rome (which I’d visited for all of a day on a work trip once – I hadn’t been able to get close to the Trevi Fountain, for example, which had been surrounded by a twenty-deep crescent of camera-wielding tourists). The pace was slow and the sun was out, which was a bonus in April. And, oh, there was just the small matter of every single building looking like it would have been a palace in a former life.
The driver braked gently and pulled in next to the kerb.
‘Here we go,’ said Nick. ‘This must be us.’
I wound down the window even further, poking my head out and looking up at the Palazzo Continentale which was quite possibly the grandest hotel I’d ever seen in my life. Well, perhaps not everseen. I mean, I’d walked past Claridge’s loads and had once had afternoon tea at The Savoy (reluctantly, to celebrate my dad and stepmum’s twentiethwedding anniversary. As if the fact my dad had left my mum and married somebody else was cause for celebration), but it was definitely, hands down, going to be the poshest place I’d ever actually stayed in. It had flagpoles hanging over the door and everything! And a doorman in a smart uniform with shiny gold buttons, and a designer boutique on the ground floor, in case you suddenly thought:oh, I know, I need a Versace dress for that party tonight, let me pop down to the hotel shop.
Nick flung open his door, got out and then marched around to open my door for me. Ever the gentleman, which was impressive given that he must feel as knackered from the journey as I was. I was desperately resisting the urge to sayI told you so. Nobody but him had ever thought that catching the train from London to Florence was a good idea. It had taken us over twenty-four hours, with a change in Paris and then an overnight stay in Turin. Twenty-four hours! We’d got the 10 a.m. train out to Florence this morning and it was a relief to finally be here. I refused to let myself think about the fact that I had to make the same horrendous journey home. I wondered if I could persuade Nick that I simply had to get back to London as a matter of extreme urgency and would therefore need to book myself a flight.
Nick, who seemed uncharacteristically distracted, was flicking through his phone while the poor taxi driver, who wasn’t exactly young and spritely, struggled to drag our suitcases out of his boot. I gave Nick a look, and when that had no effect, I stepped in to help the man myself.
‘Here, let me,’ I said, taking my suitcase from him and dropping it hard onto the pavement.
Damn, that wasn’t the best idea. I was pretty sure that as I’d got it for half-price in the Argos sale, it was unlikely to survive such maltreatment. And it looked tiny next to Nick’s,which I suspected meant that he knew something I didn’t. Why hadn’t he said anything about the calibre of hotel we’d be staying in? My wardrobe choices were clearly going to be all kinds of wrong.
‘You could have warned me it was this swanky,’ I said to Nick, who was still scrolling manically, seemingly unaware that the taxi driver was waiting to be paid.
‘My mother booked it,’ he said, not even looking up. ‘She was hardly going to book us into a Premier Inn, was she?’
I got my purse out of my bag, genuinely confused. ‘What’s so wrong with a Premier Inn?’
Nick didn’t answer – too busy tapping a message into his phone.
‘Everything all right?’ I asked.
Nick sighed. ‘It’s my mother. Wondering where we are.’
‘Oh, right,’ I said.
It wasn’t like him to stress over anything, except maybe work. Anyway we’d be seeing her in less than half an hour, once we’d dumped our stuff in our room and freshened up.
‘How much is that, please?’ I asked the driver.
‘Twenty euro.’
Twenty euros for a journey that had taken all of ten minutes?! I handed him a note, and then another five as a tip. I supposed the extortionate prices weren’t his fault. I had been warned that Florence wasn’t the cheapest.