Page 139 of So, I Met This Guy . . .

‘Birdy!’

She was in jewellery shop, being shown something in a glass case, and when she heard her name being called, she looked up and twirled around.

‘Maggie! Am I pleased to see you!’

‘Thank God I’ve found you—’ She broke off, trying to catch her breath. Inside the medina it was airless. She tried to suck the humid air into her lungs. ‘I need to warn you—’

‘Warn me about what, honey? Why didn’t you come to the club in Ibiza?’

‘I did. I saw you with him. With Theo. He’s the romance fraudster I was telling you about. The man who broke my heart and stole my life savings.’

It all came tumbling out.

‘I know.’

Maggie blinked and took a step backwards.

‘You know?’

‘Of course I do,’ said Birdy, as if it was perfectly obvious, and then just when Maggie thought nothing more could surprise her, she laughed mischievously. ‘Why do you think I’m dating him?’

A Little Birdy Told Me

There were so many questions. But they had to wait. They had to get back to the ship. Because the thing about the questions is, the more answers you get, the more the questions multiply. And standing in the middle of a souk in Tangier when their cruise ship was soon to set sail probably wasn’t the best time to start asking them.

Much better to wait until they were safely back on board and sitting across from each other on two velvet sofas in Birdy’s palatial Galaxy suite. Only, the person firing the first question wasn’t Maggie, it was Birdy.

‘What took you so long?’

‘Excuse me?’

‘You told me you were following the cruise ship when we were in Sicily, but when you didn’t show up at the club in Ibiza, I got a little worried I wasn’t going to see you again.’

Taking off her golf-ball-size diamond earrings, Birdy tossed them into an open jewellery box on the side table next to her, which appeared to be brimming with dazzling bracelets and necklaces.

‘And this little plan of mine would all be for nothing.’

‘What plan?’ demanded a voice and Flick suddenly appeared striding into the room. ‘I came as soon as I got your note.’

‘What note?’ Maggie was even more confused.

‘I had Philip, my butler, send a note asking Flick to come to my suite,’ explained Birdy. ‘You mentioned your room number when we were in the elevator.’

‘You have a butler?’ Maggie looked to Birdy in amazement.

‘The service comes with the suite and it’s such a luxury. Philip caters to my every need. If he’s not restocking the bar, booking spa treatments or making dinner reservations, he’s discreetly sending notes—’ She broke off, smiling, as a dark-haired man in a uniform made his entrance carrying an arrangement of fresh flowers. ‘Oh, howdy, Philip, I was just telling my friends how totally wonderful you are.’

‘All part of the service, ma’am,’ he nodded politely, pausing to plump a cushion.

‘Everyone should have a Philip; he thinks of everything – it’s like having a wife,’ she confided as Maggie and Flick both tried not to stare.

‘It was getting late and I was worried,’ continued Flick.

‘We just got back. Sorry, I would’ve texted earlier but I don’t have a phone.’

‘It’s OK, mine would have been turned off anyway. I was in the spa having a massage after two hours’ playing crazy golf. Who knew I’d be such a convert to cruising.’ Flick pulled a face. ‘So c’mon, what did I miss?’

‘I saw Theo in one of the souks . . .’