Page 141 of So, I Met This Guy . . .

‘Of course the question now is, have we let him get away?’ Birdy sighed, as if such minor details were a nuisance.

They each looked at other. Flick was actually starting to feel scared of the way the ship was rolling, and also a little seasick, but she didn’t want to lose face.

‘Well, he definitely saw me,’ said Maggie, ‘that’s when he legged it.’

‘Why would he run away from you when he texted you, wanting to meet you in Mallorca?’ asked Flick.

‘Who knows,’ shrugged Maggie. ‘I’ve given up trying to explain his behaviour. He’s a fantasist—’

‘And a narcissist. I should know, I was married to a few,’ interjected Birdy helpfully. ‘This type has no boundaries.’

‘Plus, a lot’s happened since Mallorca.’ Maggie gestured towards Birdy. ‘Maybe he was worried I was going to blow his cover in front of Birdy.’

‘Have you checked his cabin?’

Birdy shook her head. ‘I wouldn’t know which one it was. I don’t do cabins, sweetie. Only suites.’

‘And the crew wouldn’t give out that information,’ interjected Flick, answering her own question. She was now in full investigative reporter mode.

‘Can’t we tell if he’s got back on the ship with the app?’ asked Maggie.

‘Only if you’re part of the same booking or have accepted a friend request,’ explained Flick. After spending the day with the press officer, she was now an expert in cruising and quite the fan.

The ship suddenly lifted, then dropped, as if they were on a big dipper and she swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. Well, she was a fan until now.

‘That sounds like a terrible idea. I don’t like anyone knowing where I am or what I’m up to,’ said Birdy, ‘as my ex-husbands will testify.’

‘That’s why I don’t have a Boots Advantage card,’ agreed Maggie.

‘It’s hardly the same, knowing what shampoo and conditioner you use,’ Flick snapped, then sighed in frustration. ‘Sorry, I’m just . . .’

‘I know, I know.’ Maggie leaned across and gave her shoulder a squeeze.

‘We were so close. If he jumped ship in Morocco, we’ll never see him again . . .’ Flick trailed off, her voice despondent, as Philip handed around three perfectly executed negronis. She took one gratefully.

‘And if he hasn’t?’ asked Maggie, taking a sip. Crikey, that was strong.

‘We’re going to need a fucking good plan,’ said Birdy, and knocked her drink straight back in one.

All at Sea

Day Thirteen

One more day to go

Maggie

It’s like picking a thread. Once you’ve started, things quickly begin to unravel and fall apart . . .

A few days after the incident with the bank, Theo flew back from the States. Filming had wrapped ahead of schedule, so he was able to come home early. Whenever he went away on trips, he would always come home with gifts of perfume or beauty products. This time it was a gorgeous silk scarf from a famous designer brand, all boxed up with a ribbon and wrapped in tissue paper.

‘You didn’t have to buy me this! It’s far too extravagant!’ I protest, as the luxurious silk fabric slips from the box and through my fingers, a gorgeous swathe of lilacs and forest greens.

‘Nonsense, you deserve it,’ he smiles, shushing me with a kiss.

‘I feel like a Parisian,’ I laugh, draping it around my neck and pretending to pout, hands on hips.

‘Oh la la,’ he grins, raising his eyebrows and pulling me towards him. ‘And now I’m home I’m going to sort everything out with the bank, don’t worry, just leave it to me. You’ve got far more important things to worry about, like what are you going to pack for a beach wedding and honeymoon on a tropical island?’