‘Grazie.’ He gives us a polite smile and closes the door behind him.
Delaney whips away the cloches, stacking them on the floor by the table, and sits cross-legged next to them. She inhales deeply. ‘Oh my god.’
The pizzas look – and smell – incredible.
‘Huh – they’re not sliced,’ she says, frowning.
‘Here.’ I hand her a knife and fork from the tray. ‘It’s DIY.’
‘Oh, duh.’ She smiles, not taking herself too seriously – something else to admire – and hacks into the Caprese pizza, stuffing a huge bite into her mouth.
‘Oh my god,’ she says again, only this time with her mouth full.
‘Good?’ I ask, sniggering. I’ve never seen anyone this excited about pizza.
‘Mm-hmm.’ She swallows and cuts off another piece.
‘I’d better be quick,’ I say, cutting into the prosciutto pizza.
‘Sorry,’ she says with her hand over her mouth. ‘I have a super-fast metabolism – I’m always starving.’
‘All good.’
I eat my pizza and it really is good. ‘Oh my god!’ I exclaim with my mouth full, mimicking her.
‘Ha-ha-ha,’ Delaney laughs, her crinkled eyes meeting mine. ‘You dork.’
I shrug, then cut off another bite. We eat, sip our wine, and chat about the day, steering clear of heavier topics by unspoken agreement.
But when Delaney sits back, crossing one ankle over the other, and wiping her mouth on a cloth napkin, she brings us back to our pre-dinner conversation.
‘So, what about you and Pippa?’ she asks.
‘What about us?’
‘Don’t play coy – how did you two meet?’
‘We’ve known each other for… oh god… nearly seventeen years.’
‘Wow. Were you into her from the get-go?’
‘Excuseme?’
‘Not like that –geez. I only meant, did youlikeher? You must have heard that expression before.’
‘I have, yes,’ I reply. ‘Sorry – I heard it differently in my head.’
She studies me and I look away, shaking my head at myself. Delaney’s right – Iama dork.
‘Anyway, to answer your question, I did find her attractive, but we were both heading off to uni –andwe were very young – so why act on it?’
‘How romantic.’
‘Oi – I can beveryromantic.’
‘Oh, I bet.’
‘I know you’re teasing, but what do you call this? This trip. Isn’t it romantic that I agreed to go on holiday to a mystery destination?’