‘Good. Whereabouts are you now?’
‘We were in Seville today and tomorrow we’re heading to Granada.’
‘Sounds amazing!’ As much as I missed him, I was glad that he was seeing more of the world. ‘How long are you in Spain for?’
‘Not sure. We might stay here for a couple of weeks then head to Italy or Germany. Haven’t decided yet.’
‘How will I know where you are and if you’re okay?’ My stomach tensed.
‘I’ll be fine!’ he huffed. ‘I’m twenty-one, not ten! You can’t expect me to call you every second to tell you where I am any more.’
‘Noteverysecond, but a quick text every few days would be nice. You’ve been gone for a month and this is only the second time you’ve called!’
‘I’ll be fine! Y’know, if you got your own life, you wouldn’t have time to keep worrying about mine.’
‘Charming!’ I said, feeling like I’d been kicked in the gut. ‘Sorry for being concerned for your wellbeing whilst you travel around the world with God knows who, going God knows where!’
‘Go and join a knitting club, do line dancing, birdwatching or whatever people your age do.’
‘Birdwatching?’ My jaw dropped. ‘How old do you think I am?’
‘Ninety-five?’ he chuckled.
‘Bloody cheek!’ I laughed. ‘And do you have enough money?’
‘For now. Dad gave me some.’
‘So he should,’ I said.
Apart from a call on Ricky’s birthday or whenever he felt like it, his dad barely made an appearance.
Instead of paying maintenance, he’d let us stay in this house which he’d inherited from his aunt. But that was only because she’d left it in a state and it was too run down for him to live in. It was me that had to pay for the renovations and bills.
‘Gotta go. We’re gonna hit a bar and get some tapas.’
‘Be careful.’
‘Mum!’ he groaned.
‘And remember to…’ before I finished my sentence, the phone line went dead.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Oh, how I longed for the days when my adorable little boy used to be my shadow and let me hug him. These days, Ricky always acted like I was the last person on earth that he wanted to speak to.
I rested my phone on the table and continued scrolling through my email account. Two new messages had come through whilst I was on the phone.
An automated one from the company I worked for, reminding me to renew my own car insurance (just the kind of big bill I needed right now) and the other…
Oh my God.
When I saw who the email was from, my heart thundered in my chest.
It was from the Love Hotel!
After I’d finished going through the website last month, I’d logged into my account, using the details that had been handwritten on the back of the deposit receipt and once I’d updated the questionnaire to reflect my own preferences (which wereverydifferent to the ones Juliette and Cordelia had entered), I’d logged out. And because I hadn’t heard anything, I’d just assumed that they’d looked at my responses and decided I was a lost cause.
But now they’d emailed!
As my mouse hovered over the message, I told myself to lower my expectations. They could be writing to say I didn’t have a hope in hell of finding my perfect match.
