‘Then it sounds like we got our timing just right. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nina.’ The way he said my name did tingly things to my spine.
I squeeze my eyes tighter still, the roar of the engine settling into background noise as the memories of our first date fill my senses. I can hear the cry of the seagulls as Hamish and I made our way down to the seafront armed with snacks. I can smell the salt in the air, feel the breeze whipping up against my skin. The sound of the Atlantic Ocean racing up to the shore, shimmering in the sunlight. But most of all I can feel the excitement deep in the pit of my belly, the certainty that even though we didn’t know each other yet, this man, for sure, held endless and thrilling opportunities.
Hamish did not disappoint. He had me in stitches from the minute we sat down on the sand, telling me stories about his mad Scottish relatives. We couldn’t have had a more different upbringing, what with Hamish coming from a long line of aristocrats and being farmed off to boarding school the minute he was old enough. His tales about black-tie Christmases and weekends in the South of France were so far removed from anything I’d experienced, and I remember feeling so surprised that I actually liked this man who’d grown up with unimaginable privilege. He was engaging, commanding, inquisitive. As we sat there munching on nuts, he asked me questions about my childhood, genuinely interested when I told him about the small flat I shared with my mum, how she worked all hours as a nurse to keep a roof over our heads. How I’d never known my dad.
‘So, yeah, no bow ties at Christmas for us,’ I said with a wry smile as I came to a close. ‘Mum would save up for all of our favourite foods, so for us Christmas lunch meant mac and cheese followed by a Terry’s chocolate orange.’
‘Now that sounds ideal,’ he said, lit up by the sunset.
I remember looking out to sea as great swathes of purple and orange bloomed across the sky. It remains the most stunning sunset I have ever seen, and I grew up on the coast seeing some pretty epic ones. I turned back to look at Hamish, still smiling roguishly at me, and not once did it feel strange that we’d literally just met in a corner shop and were now having an intimate date on the beach. It just felt right. The perfect first date.
‘Moss, why are you making weird noises?’
I snap my eyes open to find Callum,of all people, staring at me in concern.
‘Just … thinking about work?’
Callum presses his lips together in disbelief.
‘You had your eyes shut, a huge smile on your face and you were sighing,’ he points out.
This man really is a fly in my Chablis, I decide, noticing that the plane radar screen in front of me says we now have … oh wow,stillthirteen hours to go. Did time stand still while I was having that daydream? I look at Callum looking at me. And for reasons totally and utterly unknown to me, I decide that I’m going to engage him in conversation. Take Kat’s advice and open up a channel of communication. Maybe it’s an altitude thing and I’ve gone clinically insane at thirty-five thousand feet? Or maybe it’s just that there’s no one else to talk to and I am a chatter.
‘Do you believe in meet-cutes, Callum?’
‘Meat queues?’ His brows furrow above his glasses. ‘I mean, it’s only polite to queue if it’s busy at the butchers, no?’
I sigh loudly. Clearly there is not one solitary romance bone in this man’s body.
‘Meet-cute,’ I repeat with extra enunciation this time.
Callum looks even more confused.
‘It’s the charming first encounter between two people who are basically destined to fall in love,’ I explain.
Callum takes his glasses off and pinches the tip of his nose.
‘You must have had one,’ I insist. ‘Cast your mind back to past relationships. On second thoughts, maybe charming first encounters aren’t your thing. Your poor unsuspecting victims probably didn’t see you coming.’
‘Are you referring to my former partners as poor unsuspecting victims, Moss?’
I press on. ‘Like, how did you meet your current girlfriend?’
‘I’m not dating anyone,’ he says.
‘Last girlfriend?’
‘Old friends.’
‘The one before that?’
‘Friend of a friend.’
I exhale in frustration. ‘Okay, so no meet-cutes for you. Let me tell you about my meet-cutes.’
‘Must you?’
‘Oh come on. It’s a long flight and maybe this will be a way for us to collaborate or whatever Kat said.’
