I grab two. I’m starving.
‘Fill me in on the rest of your holiday then,’ she says. ‘I still can’t believe you met your mum there. That’s so weird.’
‘Tell me about it,’ I reply. ‘Very surreal.’
‘And the new bloke?’ she enquires. ‘Same guy I saw on the bridge?’
‘Paul Rudd?’ I ask. ‘Yep, same guy.’
She looks confused. ‘Paul Rudd?’
‘Yes, that is his real name, I checked. He seems nice, though, thank God. Normal.’
She breaks a chocolate finger in half and dips it into her tea. ‘Do you think he will be “the one”?’ Naomi ponders. ‘Mrs Pamela Rudd. It suits her. Ooh, do you think they’ll have a church wedding?’
‘She’s not even engaged!’ I exclaim. ‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.’
‘She should definitely have a church wedding,’ Naomi continues. ‘They’re lovely. So dignified. Traditional. Refined. Romantic.’
‘You got married in a field.’
She grins. ‘Yes, but that’s because I hate tradition. And the Church. Besides, I owned the field, we were being thrifty.’
‘Oh, by the way, I got some gifts for the boys. Just pencil cases with volcanoes on them from Pompeii. Both are the same, I don’t want them arguing.’
‘Wise.’
‘Remember the time I bought them different colouring books? How was I supposed to know that they both loved Spiderman and hated Batman.’
‘You wouldn’t have known because they don’t,’ Naomi replies. ‘Michael wasn’t bothered about a Spiderman colouring book until he saw that Grant wanted it. Then it became the most important colouring book on the planet.’
I pour some more milk into my tea. ‘The rest of the holiday was fun. Nice people, sunbathing, sightseeing—’
‘Love?’
The optimistic look on her face makes me smile. ‘Like. I likedhim. Very much.’
She adds more sugar to her tea and stirs. ‘Disappointing end to the holiday, though. I’d hoped you’d come back with more of a spring in your step.’
I sigh. ‘It’s disheartening but there’s nothing I can do about it. I can’t make someone get over their dead wife, no matter how much I like them.’
‘True.’
‘Regardless, I’m done with this whole thing,’ I assert. ‘No more dating, no more games nights or ping-pong, no more saying yes. It’s too much.’
‘I must admit, it did sound exhausting,’ she replies. ‘But you went for it, andtechnicallyit did work.’
‘How?’ I ask, reaching for another chocolate digestive. ‘In what universe did this work?’
‘You’d never have said yes to a cruise, and you’d never have met Captain Anticlimax. The article gave you an alternative way to meet someone, it never guaranteed that you’d run off into the sunset.’
‘I know,’ I reply. I yawn loudly. I feel like I’ve been awake for days. ‘Would have been nice to keep seeing him, though. I can’t help but wonder what he’s doing. Do you think he’s thinking about me too?’
‘He probably is,’ she responds. ‘I’m just not sure if it’s in the same way.’
‘What other way is there? Do you think he’s happy I’m gone? Sad that he ever met me? Thanking his lucky stars that—’
‘Oh my God, that’s enough moping for today,’ she responds wearily. ‘Go and rest. Sleep in tomorrow. Try and take your mind off everything.’
