‘Three sisters: Helen, Penelope—’
‘Promise me you don’t have a third sister called—’
‘Clytemnestra.’ He laughs. ‘Yep. Poor Nessie got saddled with the worst of the lot.’
‘But they are such …’ I grimace. I mean, to name your girls after the daughters of Sparta is kind of a bold move.
‘Yep. Although my parents hadn’t actually read any Greek mythology and just thought they were such pretty names.
‘And then you have two brothers?’ I ask, not wanting to be too judgemental about the Adams’s name choices.
‘Yep. Markus is the oldest. And then there’s Zac.’
‘Is he older or younger than you?’
‘Older. Just. But, to him at least, those three minutes areveryimportant.’ He chuckles to himself.
‘You’re twins?’
‘Identical. Other people say it’s uncanny how alike we are in looks. Couldn’t be further apart in personality though. And he has zero interest in physics.’ He says it like it’s a scandal. Which it is, let’s be honest.
‘Are you close?’ I ask.
‘Yeah. He kind of …’ He blushes a little. ‘It’s kind of … well, it makes me feel like a bit of a twat, but he is cool with it and it’s better than a stranger.’ He looks up at me. ‘Promise you won’t judge?’
I motion around me as if to ask who the hell would I be to judge.
‘He’s my PA. He does stuff for me.’
The memory of that morning in the hotel forms in my mind. The man with the coffee cup. ‘What kind of stuff?’
‘You know. Like books my flights and my hotels and collects my dry cleaning.’
‘And your Starbucks?’
‘Yeah. Oh God, that makes me sound like such a prick.’ He hides behind his hands.
‘It was him,’ I say under my breath.
‘What was him?’ He frowns.
‘That morning. In the hotel. The night after Nick had … well, we don’t need to talk about it.’
‘I’m not following?’
‘You blanked me. That morning after we’d been chatting in the bar.’
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘Yes, I get that now. But I thought it was you. I thought …’
Realization dawns across his features. ‘You thought I ignored you.’
‘Yep.’
‘Is that why you never called me?’
‘Well, I was hardly going to call the guy who had lookedright through me as if I was nothing, as if he didn’t know who the fuck I was.’
