Page 68 of So, I Met This Guy . . .

But to be honest, did she really want to?

Because, while she couldn’t admit this to Flick, a big part of her didn’t want to find Him. She was beginning to like this new-found freedom of being on this road trip. Waking up in a different place every day. Moving forward. Never looking back. She didn’t want it to stop. What would happen if, and when, they eventually found Him? When they reached their goal?

What then?

She tried to imagine it, but couldn’t really. It went all fuzzy and messy, like those old-fashioned Etch A Sketch drawings. And then it would be over and she’d have to go back to face the music.

And, no, it wouldn’t be the sound of some Italian crooner singing ‘That’s Amore’.

Basking in the warm evening sunlight, she gave a shudder. It was so lovely here, she didn’t want to spoil it.

‘Well, we’re definitely getting closer.’

Maggie zoned back to see Flick had picked up her phone and was scrolling through various social media apps. She called it ‘following his digital footprint’.

‘Definitely.’ Maggie nodded, encouragingly.

‘He was here. We must have just missed him by minutes.’

‘Next time.’

‘Totally.’

‘Absolutely.’

Maggie was wondering how many more synonyms they could come up with, when Flick let out a groan.

‘Oh shit, he wants to FaceTime!’

‘FaceTime?’ Maggie shrank back with horror, pushing her chair away from the phone like it was a live hand grenade. How did he get Flick’s number? ‘I knew you shouldn’t be digging around in his social media, this is what happens—’

‘Huh?’ Flick looked confused. ‘I’m talking about Rory.’

Abruptly, Maggie felt foolish. She was being paranoid. ‘Right, yes, of course. Well, that’s nice.’

‘No, it’s not nice.’ Feeling stressed, Flick took a slug of her beer and shoved her phone on the table. ‘He’s going to have a go at me.’

‘Why?’ Maggie frowned. ‘I thought you two were fine now. You’ve been texting each other all day.’

The whole time she was driving today, Flick had been constantly on her phone. So much for looking at the stunning views of the Amalfi Coast. Her face had been buried in her screen.

‘We were having a fight.’

‘Still?’

Flick nodded. ‘He still doesn’t get it. Why I’m here. He thinks I’m with someone.’

‘Well, you are.’

‘Not you!’ she tutted. ‘You don’t count.’

‘Cheers.’ Maggie raised her wine glass in mock salute, causing Flick to redden.

‘I mean, another bloke. I told him we were on the Amalfi Coast and he googled it and said it was a top honeymoon destination and there was no way I was here for work. He doesn’t believe me.’

‘Maybe it’s better if you talk to each other; have a proper conversation,’ suggested Maggie. ‘Texts are so easy to misinterpret.’

But Flick’s face remained troubled.