Page 32 of So, I Met This Guy . . .

They moved through the different gaming rooms, scanning the crowds, while trying to be discreet. Maggie was focused on remaining calm, but she was a bag of nerves. Adrenaline and anticipation, mixed with fear of the unknown and the casino’s highly charged atmosphere, made for a complicated cocktail of emotions. Meanwhile, Flick was quickly swooped upon when she pulled out her phone – they were strictly prohibited in the casino – so she couldn’t check for updates on His social media.

Instead, they concentrated on scouting the different salons, including the bar where they traded in the two drinks vouchers, which had been included in the price of the admission, for one expensive cocktail. The minutes ticked by. Ten. Twenty. Half an hour. An hour.

He isn’t coming.

Doubts swirled in their minds. We’ve got it wrong. What were we thinking? It was such a long shot. But when they caught each other’s eye they’d stop chewing their lips and fiddling with their hair and instead swap reassuring smiles and I hadn’t noticed the time shrugs of unconcern. Despite their differences, they had something in common: both were terrible actors and they saw right through each other.

‘Maybe we should get another drink,’ suggested Maggie.

‘At these prices?’ Flick blanched.

‘Isn’t the newspaper paying?’

Flick imagined Seymour getting a bill for two cocktails at a casino in Monte Carlo. The thought both terrified and amused her. It was a struggle to get him to pay parking, despite the local car park only charging two pounds a day. Can’t you park at Tesco’s? he would always grumble.

‘Um, yes, of course,’ she nodded, forcing a smile.

He isn’t coming.

And then suddenly, there he was.

Maggie sensed him before she saw him. Like you can sense the change in atmosphere just before there’s a thunderstorm. The room felt electrically charged. A sudden whiff of his familiar scent. A flash of him amongst the throngs of people. Was he alone or with other people? She couldn’t tell. It was so busy. Emerging briefly through the crowd, he strode through the salon as if he owned it, oozing confidence. It was the first time she’d seen him since he walked out of her flat and her life and now here he was, in a casino in Monte Carlo.

The room blurred. The noise muted. Everything seemed to shift on its axis.

‘That’s Him.’

She said it under her breath, without barely moving her mouth. Flick saw the look on Maggie’s face, realized immediately and quickly turned. Until that moment she’d only ever seen a photograph, but there he was in the flesh. She recognized him instantly.

The two women stared, frozen, for a split second, before Flick sprang forward.

‘Excuse me!’

As Flick suddenly moved towards him, Maggie snapped to and tried to follow, but before they knew what was happening, he was being swept through mirrored panels, which made up a secret doorway, and had disappeared.

‘Excusez-moi,’ stammered Maggie. Two burly men in suits turned to her, blocking their way. Both said something in French that neither she nor Flick understood.

That was the problem trying to converse in a different language. Speaking it was one thing, understanding it was quite another.

‘I’m afraid I don’t understand—’ Maggie began apologizing, but Flick interrupted impatiently.

‘We need to speak to the man who just entered that room.’

One of the doormen shook his head. ‘This is for members and VIP players only,’ replied the other, his face expressionless.

‘It’s important,’ urged Flick.

‘Please,’ added Maggie. She smiled sweetly, teenage memories of trying to charm nightclub bouncers resurfacing, but the two men remained, sentry-like, in front of the concealed doorway.

Flick scowled furiously. ‘I can’t believe it. That’s ridiculous. They can’t just bar us from entering.’

‘They just did,’ said Maggie, as she led a furious Flick away before she caused a scene and they were thrown out.

‘But there must be a way in.’

‘There is if you’re a high roller.’

Flick gave her a blank look.