‘It’s lovely in here,’ I said. ‘Thanks for suggesting it.’
Nick picked up the water jug and topped up my glass.
‘Not to sound like a cliché, because I genuinely mean this: what’s a beautiful woman like you doing on Tinder?’
I laughed, a little nervously, probably because how was I supposed to answer that?
I took a few sips of water to kill some time.
‘Um, I had a pretty nasty break-up recently,’ I said. ‘So I thought I’d try something different. This is actually my first ever Tinder date.’
‘Well, I’m honoured,’ said Nick.
His eyes weren’t big and brown like Aidan’s but smallerand blue and exuding a sort of quiet intelligence. I was enjoying myself more than I thought I would and it all felt very grown-up and calm and sort of serious but not in a bad way.
‘What about you?’ I asked him.
He grimaced. ‘One word: divorce.’
I propped my chin in the palm of my hand. ‘That bad?’
He nodded. ‘Pretty bad. But it’s nice to be here with you, Maddie. And here’s to a lovely evening for the two Tinder novices,’ he said, picking up his wine.
I did the same, smiling as we clinked glasses across the table.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The restaurant had a beautiful view of the Duomo, which was hands down the most impressive cathedral I’d ever seen. St Paul’s had been my favourite when I was younger and when I’d daydreamed about getting married to whichever unobtainable local boy/boyband member I was currently crushing on, I’d imagined the ceremony taking place there. I’d be brimming with joy as I walked down the aisle on the arm of my new husband and we’d walk through the huge doors at the front and there would be well-wishers on the steps (I wasn’t sure who) cheering and throwing confetti. This daydream was heavily inspired by photos I’d seen of Princess Diana on her wedding day. And if (strange to think it might be an ‘if’ now) I actually was to get married, the reality was likely to be much less idyllic than it had been in my fantasy. My family would have to meet Nick’s for a start and I couldn’t imagine two sets of people less alike. And my mum and dad would have to be in the same room, which had only happened a couple of times since they’d split up and was never easy.
‘Impressive, isn’t it?’ said Rosamund, who had clearly been watching me watching the Duomo. I didn’t think it was actually called that: the church itself had a name. But it was the huge dome with its terracotta roof that was most memorable. I’d read a bit about it in my guidebook: something about the revolutionary way they’d created the ceiling.And about the huge gold orb on top once falling off and crashing onto the pavement below, somehow managing to avoid killing anyone in the process.
‘Stunning,’ I said. ‘It must have taken hundreds of years to build. All that detail.’
Rosamund nodded. She poured us each a glass of water.
‘Have you and Nick travelled much together?’ she asked.
I thought this was possibly one of the most normal conversations we’d had since I’d arrived. Which was ironic, because I was full of doubts in a way that I hadn’t been at the beginning of the trip. About Nick, but also about Aidan, who had come back into my life at the worst possible moment and yet had brought a lightness that I’d forgotten existed.
‘A little,’ I said. ‘But, as you know, Nick’s reluctant to fly, especially long haul.’
‘Yes, he’s terrified, poor thing. Always has been,’ remarked Rosamund.
I was pretty sure Nick had told me he’d been skiing every year in some pretentious-sounding resort, and had clearly been forced to fly then, so why couldn’t he force himself now? I’d even offered to book him on one of those fear-of-flying courses the big airlines do, but he’d point-blank refused.
‘So how does it feel to have been married for forty-five years?’ I asked.
Rosamund dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin. I wasn’t sure why, because we hadn’t eaten anything yet.
‘I’ve been very lucky,’ she said. ‘But I knew very early on that he was the one. You just know, don’t you?’
‘Mmmn,’ I said, nodding enthusiastically and trying to ignore the curl of fear in my stomach.
Bloody Aidan’s face came into my head, of course. He wasabsolutely not my one. When you meet ‘the one’ things go smoothly, don’t they? You don’t have one person ghosting the other, or one of you getting engaged to somebody else. It should be smooth and obvious from the beginning. No drama. No massive ups and downs, just a constant stream of it feeling nice and safe. Like it was with Nick. Except that maybe not being able to be myself didn’t feel that safe. And, recently, it hadn’t even felt particularly nice.
‘Lost any teenagers lately, Maddie?’ piped up Sophia from the other end of the table.
I looked at her. Was she really doing this, in front of everyone? Nick was no help, he wouldn’t even look at me.