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If Finn was surprised that I’d recalled the exact details, he didn’t show it. ‘Yes. It’s not something I talk about often.’
I stayed silent, because as a journalist you know that is the tipping point when people will tell you more.
‘My grandmother took me in afterwards.’ Finn reached for his wine, as though this part of his history was best told with alcohol on standby. ‘She wasn’t exactly the most maternal woman in the world; not to my father, and then, years later, not to me. Boarding school actually felt more like home to me than her house ever did.’
The tears were back in my eyes, this time for him and not me.
‘Oh, Finn. That’s really sad. I’m so sorry. You must have felt terribly alone, losing both your parents and being in a strange country.’
His mouth, which had been smiling pretty much since the moment the date began, was now a tight line. ‘It was a long time ago.’
I might have asked more, but when I glanced up I saw a waiter heading towards our table, carrying the indulgent dessert I’d ordered. There seemed to be an in-house ritual with the chocolate bombe that involved molten sauce being poured from a height and a round of applause once the sparklers set into the dish had fizzled out. By the time the ceremony and interest from the surrounding diners was over, Finn had corralled his memories back into a steel-doored vault, from which I suspected they were seldom released.
I tried steering the conversation back to his family, but he was having none of it.
‘I’m sorry, but do you mind if we change the subject?’
Of course, I told him that was fine; how could I say anything else? Although I couldn’t resist adding, ‘But if you do ever want to talk about it…’ I let my words trail away on the offer.
Finn’s smile looked wry. ‘Thanks, but over the last couple of years I’ve talked about my past more than enough.’ There was something about his words that hinted this might be more than just idle chatter with his new Aussie mates.
He blew out a long, slow breath. ‘Well, I believe this officially counts as one of the best ways of putting a damper on an evening. Any minute now you’ll probably remember a pressing prior engagement, or you’ll hotfoot it to the loo and never come back.’
Behind the humour, there was something in his eyes that broke the tiny bit of my heart that hadn’t already started to fall for him.
‘I’m not going anywhere,’ I said.
*
We lingered so long in the restaurant that we were among the last diners to leave. Finn took my hand as we walked towards the bank of lifts, and I happily curled my fingers around his.
‘I’ve had such a great time tonight, Finn. Thank you,’ I said as we stepped inside the waiting carriage.
Four smiling Finns looked back at me from the lift’s mirrored walls. ‘It doesn’t have to be over just yet.’
His hand was hovering over the control panel, and I felt a shard of disappointment pierce my mood. Finn was staying at this hotel; I knew that because he’d charged the meal to his room. Was he suggesting we went there now? Was that where we’d been heading all night? And if so, why was it so disappointing?Because you don’t want this to be another meaningless one-night stand,an inner voice that I could no longer ignore reminded me.You want this to go somewhere.
Unaware of my hesitation, Finn firmly pressed his forefinger on the button marked ‘G’. ‘Because I was wondering if there was time for a walk in the park before we have to get you to the station. What time is your train, by the way?’
‘The last one leaves at midnight,’ I said happily. Never in my entire life had I been so delighted to have totally misjudged someone’s intentions.
‘Okay, Cinderella,’ he said with a smile. ‘We’ll get you there before the clock chimes twelve.’
The lift spilled us out into the marble-floored foyer, and while Finn retrieved our coats from the cloakroom, I pulled out my phone and rattled off a quick message to Hannah.
Having the best night. Ever, I wrote, tagging a few heart-eyed emojis on to the WhatsApp for good measure.
She replied immediately with an eye-rolling GIF that made me giggle like the lovestruck teenager I was apparently morphing into.
With the kind of impeccable good manners that would have seriously impressed my mum, Finn held out my coat and carefully lifted my hair free from the collar. I shivered as his fingers briefly scraped against the sensitive skin at my nape. Perhaps it was just as well we were going somewhere public. Maybe Iwas the one who couldn’t be trusted if we were to find ourselves alone together, not Finn.
The November night air bit hungrily at our exposed skin as we headed towards the nearest entrance to the park. I cinched my coat a little tighter around me.
‘Too cold?’ asked Finn, who was already buttoning up his own thick wool coat.
‘Not really. It’s you Aussie guys who can’t hack the British winter.’
He grinned back at me. ‘That sounds like a challenge. And as I’m only half Australian and lived in the UK for over twenty years, I’m pretty sure I can take it.’
