Amy sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Philippa … Please don’t be concerned that I’m in any way unhappy withLove to Hate You, or worried it won’t be a massive success– because it certainly will be. I just have a few personal things on my mind at the moment. But this lunch isn’t about me, so let’s not even go there– shall we order some fizz?’
‘Oh, there’s already some on the way,’ Philippa said, grinning wickedly. Amy smiled and laughed for the first time since last week. At that moment, a smartly dressed waiter appeared with a bottle of Taittinger in an ice bucket, plus two cut-glass coupes.
When they’d both been poured a glass of champagne and enjoyed their first sips, Philippa said: ‘I’mverymuch looking forward to your romance festival– are you and that strapping young lad all done now with the organisation?’
Amy took another gulp of her drink. ‘Er– getting there, yes,’ she said, trying to keep her face neutral.
‘Honestly,’ Philippa went on as she tore into a piece of the ciabatta the waiter had just delivered, then dunked it in olive oil and balsamic vinegar. ‘He’s a proper dish, isn’t he? Looks like someone I’d make up for one of my historical romances.’
Amy could feel heat creeping up her spine and the sides of her neck. ‘Er … sure. Yeah. I guess so.’
Philippa’s carefully pencilled eyebrows shot up, though not very far. Amy detected very subtle Botox at work.
‘Ah,’ Philippa said, ‘I see.’
‘What do you see?’ Amy asked, willing her face to assume innocence and not flush the same colour as her dress.
‘I see we have one of my favourite romantic tropes coming to life in front of our very eyes,’ Philippa said, her voice thick with glee. ‘Correct me if I get any of this wrong, won’t you– but as I understand it, you know this man from childhood, you didn’t get on well as kids and there’s been some disagreement since you’ve been back living in that lovely little village of yours.
‘Now, however, you’ve been forced to work together on this project and you’ve discovered that despite all the bickering, you can’t stop thinking about him. Don’t deny it,’ she said, flapping her diamond-encrusted hand dismissively. ‘I saw the way you looked at one another during that meeting I was in a few weeks ago. And now here you are with a face like a wet weekend, just as the whole thing is coming to an end. This is classic enemies-to-lovers stuff– surely you’ve realisedthat, bearing in mind there’ll be a whole area devoted to it come festival day? Aren’t you printing T-shirts?’
Amy groaned out loud, and the waiter– who’d approached with the intention of asking if he could take their food order– turned on his heel in alarm. Philippa sloshed more champagne into Amy’s glass.
‘Oh dear,’ Philippa said sympathetically. ‘Is this news to you? The fact that you have feelings for him? Sorry to be the bearer.’
Amy sighed and sipped her drink again. The realisation that there was no point whatsoever in lying to Philippa felt oddly comforting. It would be good to finally unburden herself, and she reasoned she might as well volunteer the truth; Philippa would doubtless extract it from her anyway.
‘It isn’t news,’ Amy said grimly. ‘I think … IknowI’ve always been attracted to him, at the same time as thinking he’s too puffed up and privileged to be allowed. When we were teenagers, he was like this star: other people, girls especially, couldn’t help themselves from orbiting around him. I hated that– I found it infuriating and shallow. I vowed I would never become part of his pathetic fan club.’
‘Swooning over a good-looking, intelligent, well-mannered boy is pathetic?’ Philippa asked, nonplussed. ‘Sounds like rather a lot of fun, if you ask me.’
‘To me, itseemedpathetic,’ Amy explained. ‘It seemed … weak. And then one night he kissed me. After which we barely ever spoke again until I moved back to Rowton.’
‘I’m going to need more information about that kiss,’ Philippa announced too loudly, her eyes round. She signalled to the hovering, increasingly anxious waiter that they still weren’t ready to order.
‘It was …’ Amy groped for the right word. ‘Special.’
Bollocks. Had she really said that out loud?
‘Godthis is embarrassing,’ Amy continued. ‘But I’d never felt like that before. It was … huge. Emotion so big I couldn’t contain it. My friend Nisha has this idea– this cringeworthy thing called the “stomach drop sensation”. That night was the only time I’d ever had it until I came back here.’
Philippa nodded sagely, waiting for Amy to go on.
‘Something horrendous happened a couple of days later, though. Our friend died in a car accident– mybestfriend. Sam wasn’t there for me afterwards. It was like he forgot I even existed. I was so angry with him for that. So hurt.’
Perhaps her honesty was a direct consequence of so much fizz on an empty stomach, but this was the first time Amy had ever said these words out loud.
‘I’m sorry about your friend,’ Philippa said softly. ‘But can I ask– did you reach out tohimwhen all this happened? To Sam, I mean?’
‘No,’ Amy said, her eyes bright with tears she was trying to blink back. ‘I didn’t know how to. And I suppose I was waiting for him– waiting to see if he thought I was still worth bothering with when I was a grieving mess.’
‘Hmmm,’ Philippa said. ‘I wonder how he felt during that time.’
‘I don’t think he felt anything. He was like a posh automaton from what I could see– totally emotionless. Stiff upper lip, and all that. And then he went off travelling, as his sort do when the real world’stooreal.’
Philippa frowned. ‘Having met him, it seems pretty unlikely to me that he wouldn’t feelanything. You were kids, weren’t you? Eighteen or thereabouts? Based on experience with my two sons– both in their twenties now– I can tell you, lads that age aren’t brilliant at showing their emotions, regardless of how rich they are.’
Amy made a face, unwilling to concede the point even though it was a reasonable one.
