‘Cool. I’ll get you there,’ he eventually says.
‘What? How? I’m fifty minutes away.’ I’m more confused than before.
‘Go enjoy your date, Am. I promise you’ll still make it to Nigel’s,’ he says ominously.
Then he hangs up, leaving me to the peeling toilet cubicle with nothing but my phone and my worried thoughts. One thing’s for certain, I can’t enjoy my current date with Nigel or Noah on my mind, so I try to cast them away as I walk back out, planting my focus back to Aldo.
‘Sorry!’ I say as I approach the table.
He looks up at me and shakes his head fondly. ‘You British say sorry too much. What are you sorry for?’
‘You’re probably right, sorry.’ I pick up a menu. ‘What do you recommend?’
‘The carbonara is good.’
‘I’m vegetarian, no meat,’ I say. I did tell him this on our first date when the pasta teacher tried to give me bolognese, but, whatever. I can’t expect him to remembereverything.
‘Ah. The seafood linguine, then.’
‘No fish either,’ I say.
‘What do you eat, then?’ he asks, dumbfounded.
‘Anything that’s not meat or fish.’ I’m trying to keep a straight face.
‘I see.’ He scans the menu, disinterested. ‘Get the truffle.’
Two bowls of pasta and a few Aperol spritzes later, and the conversation is well and truly flowing. Suddenly, it’s super easy to remember why I wanted to go on a second date with him in the first place. He is charming and sweet, and has a pretty enticing smile, and the whole thing truly is quite nice, but the clock keeps ticking and the minutes keep climbing, and I can’t get that call off my mind.
Why did Noah seize up on the phone? And why does Nigel irk him? And what on earth did he mean when he said he’d get me to my date? And when does Aldo plan to leave? It can’t be any time soon. He’s taking his sweet time scanning over the dessert menu.
It’s just gone five-thirty; I’m meant to meet Nigel in an hour and I am still fifty minutes out of Rome. My chest pangs as I prepare to call time of death. I’ll make another play for the toilet and cancel with Nigel.
‘Signora?’ the waitress asks, tapping me on the shoulder.
Both Aldo and I look up at her, perplexed.
‘Your cousin is here. He says there’s a family emergency.’
‘My cousin?’ I ask.
She gestures behind her and I spot Noah pacing towards us. His stare is focused, loaded my way as he silently wills me to go along with whatever this is. I take the note and lock in. I havegotto give a better performance than I did during our Hungarian proposal.
‘Yes, my cousin, hello! Family emergency? What’s wrong?’ I ask him.
‘There’s no time to talk,’ he says gravely. ‘We have to leave. I’m so sorry to interrupt you like this.’
He glances from me to Aldo, nodding at him apologetically before grabbing my hand and pulling me from my seat.
‘Oh,’ I say.
I look back to Aldo, whose panicked eyes show he’s fallen for this hook, line and sinker.
‘It looks like I have to go,’ I say.
He shrugs. ‘It’s okay, dear – family comes first. Do you need help to get back?’
Noah shakes his head. ‘I’ve got her, but thanks, mate.’
