Maybe that was why her first thought was that the text had come from him. Because wishful thinking was like catching a tiny wisp of joy, and Tilly badly needed all the joy she could catch at the moment. She grabbed her phone so swiftly from the bedside table that it slipped through her fingers to land with an ominous thud on the wooden floorboards.
‘Oh,merde…’
Had she really done it this time? Cracked the screen badly enough to make it impossible to use the device? What if, by some miracle, itwasa text from Angus and she couldn’t even read it? She was holding her breath as she turned the phone over to see the notification on the screen.
An undamaged screen.
And the little preview box told her it was from Angus. She could see the first few words as well.
Can you meet me…
It took three swipes for her to open the message thanks to the sudden tremble in her fingers. She could see a map with a pinned location on it, but Tilly was only looking at the words.
Can you meet me here? At 5.30a.m. Please?
Tilly couldn’t help herself. She opened the menu of reactions and chose the little red heart. She heard the whoosh of her phone sending it and then saw it come up attached to the top of Angus’s message.
It was an affirmation but she hadn’t even looked at where she was supposed to be.
Another text landed.
Wear something warm.
Tilly found the words blurring due to tears gathering. These messages were so Angus.
Direct. He hadn’t even used her name.
Practical. Caring. He didn’t want her to get cold.
Totally unromantic but she couldn’t have cared less.
He had to be back in France if he was wanting her to meet him within the hour.
And maybe it wasn’t so unromantic if she had to be there in time for dawn to break? This was like the very first day of their time travelling through Provence, when they’d driven in Alfie to get to the balloon ride.
Not that any balloons floated around this part of the country. And Tilly had never seen any flying pigs, either.
This time, she sent a thumbs-up reaction. It didn’t matter where that pin was, she would find a way to get there if Angus was going to be waiting for her.
The location, thankfully, turned out to be not far away – close to a bridge that went over the Var and less than a twenty-minute drive.
* * *
The last time Angus had been standing in a field before dawn had been to watch a hot-air balloon being inflated.
And that was exactly what he was doing now.
Roy had laughed when he heard that Angus wanted to organise a bespoke private charter of his balloon, to happen in a part of France that was several hours’ drive away for him and his team.
‘It’s not going to be cheap,’ he’d warned.
‘There are some things you can’t put a price on,’ Angus had told him.
‘I got the impression that another balloon ride would be the last thing you ever wanted to do.’
He was right but Angus still had the last word.
‘This isn’t about me.’
