“I’ve heard that.”
“So how was it?”
“Honestly?” Hugo says. “You would’ve hated it.”
“But you loved it. I can tell.” She blows on her mug, scattering the steam, and Hugo flicks his eyes away. It feels so intimate, watching her lips form a perfectolike that, a reminder of how many times he’s kissed them. There’s a part of him that still wants to, though whether out of love or sadness, longing or nostalgia, it’s hard to be sure. She takes a sip, then looks up at him. “What about her?”
“Who?” he asks, then immediately hates himself for it. Margaret was part of his life for a long time; she knows when he’s hedging. Besides, they’re broken up now. It’s not against the rules to have feelings for someone else. So why does it feel that way?
She gives him a disappointed look. “Hugo.”
“Yeah, okay. Was it Poppy or Isla?”
“Neither. It was Alfie. I ran into him at Tesco before I left.”
“Should’ve guessed,” Hugo says with a sigh. “He’s always had the biggest mouth. I suppose I should just be grateful he’s managed not to let it slip to Mum and Dad.”
“They don’t still think that I’m—?” she asks, looking uncomfortable.
“No,” Hugo says quickly. “It’s just—you know how they are. They weren’t too keen on this trip in the first place. And once I realized about the ticket—”
“What about it?”
“The package was booked under your name, and they wouldn’t let me change it. So I needed someone else to come or I wouldn’t have been able to go at all.”
“Wait,” she says, and her face darkens. “Does that mean you had some girl pretend to be me?”
“No, of course not.”
“So what, then?”
Hugo swallows hard, realizing how bad this will sound. But he doesn’t have a choice. “I, uh…I found another Margaret Campbell.”
“Youwhat?”
“I really wanted to go,” he says helplessly. “And they wouldn’t change it. So I didn’t really have a choice, did I? Alfie and George helped me write up—hold on.” He stops short. “Did you think I just invited along some random girl a couple weeks after we broke up?”
She’s looking at him like he’s a complete idiot. “Well,didn’tyou?”
“No—not like that. I needed someone with the same name. It was just for the tickets and the hotel reservations and all that. I picked someone who wasn’t—I found this eighty-four-year-old from Florida called Margaret Campbell.”
Her eyes widen. “You’re in love with an eighty-four-year-old?”
“No,” Hugo says so loudly that the two women at a nearby table turn around. He lowers his voice. “No.She got bunions.”
Margaret looks like she’s not sure whether to laugh or cry. “So you found a younger version?”
“Yes. No. Not like that. It was just about the name,” he says again. “It wasn’t supposed to be—” He pauses, frowning at her. “Wait. Who said anything about love?”
“Alfie.”
“I’m not in love with her.”
“Alfie said, and I quote, ‘Can you believe our man Hugo is gallivanting around America with some new bird he’s in love with?’ ”
Hugo puts his face in his hands and groans. “I’m so sorry. You know he’s a complete git. He was probably just trying to make you jealous.”
“Well,” Margaret says, giving him a level look, “it worked.”
