Page 81 of So, I Met This Guy . . .

Groggy and discombobulated, she realized she’d been drooling on her fancy hotel towel. Oh God, how embarrassing. She forced herself to sit up.

To see Flick wide awake and staring at her.

‘Rather than sticking together, like we have been doing, I think we should split up, that way we can we cover more bases, double our chances of finding him.’

‘I thought we were having a day off today?’

‘We are. I’m talking about tomorrow, when the cruise ship arrives.’

‘Oh, right, yes. Good idea.’

After four days on the road, both Flick and Maggie had come to the realization that trying to chase a cruise ship around every port of call was not only exhausting, it was totally impractical. The distances were just too huge and trying to arrive before the ship had docked and the passengers had disembarked was proving impossible. It was like constantly being late to the party.

Not that it was much of a party. Staying in a different place every night might sound like fun, but it was beginning to take its toll, both physically and mentally.

This is what it must feel like being in the witness protection scheme, Flick had remarked only that morning as they’d packed their bags and left as the sun was rising. It was ironic, but they were beginning to feel like they were the ones on the run.

So they’d decided: they weren’t going to try to follow the whole cruise, but choose a few strategic places on its itinerary. Starting with Taormina, where they were going to spend two nights. This way they could relax and recuperate, ready for when the ship arrived in Messina, close by, the next morning.

‘I’ve managed to get hold of the list of tours and activities and there’s a bunch.’

As Flick began scrolling on her phone and reading off the screen, Maggie tried to engage her still-half-asleep brain.

‘You can climb up Mount Etna, which is still an active volcano; take a tour of the various Greek theatres, apparently there’s loads around here; walk in the footsteps of The Godfather and visit the various filming locations; take a cooking class where you learn how to make your own lasagne and tiramisu—’

‘Do you get to eat it?’

‘Um . . . yes, it says here you get to have it for lunch.’

‘Oh, I like the sound of that one.’ Maggie’s stomach rumbled.

Since breakfast she’d only had a packet of crisps bought from a motorway service station when they refuelled and the few olives the waiter just brought them, as an accompaniment to their drinks. She felt weak with hunger. Unlike Flick, who was always full of energy. People talked about the generation gap between Gen X and Gen Z, but was from where she was sitting, it seemed to be more a gap in energy levels.

‘I want to see Mount Etna.’

‘You want us to hike up an active volcano?’

The thought of putting on her trainers made Maggie’s heart sink. She was exhausted after today’s drive.

‘Don’t worry. Not us. Me.’ Flick laughed at her expression. ‘We can do things separately. Obviously, the tours are just for the cruise passengers, but a lot of these activities are open to the public. Like the cooking school or Mount Etna.’

‘Perfect.’ She felt a wave of relief, then a thought struck. ‘Hang on, but what if it erupts?’

‘Well, it would certainly put me on the front page.’ Flick looked unalarmed.

‘I’m not sure those are the headlines you want. Haven’t you heard of Pompeii?’

‘BRITISH JOURNALIST BURIED ALIVE IN HOT LAVA.’ Putting on her best movie trailer voice, Flick used her hands to spell out the words in the cloudless stretch of blue sky. ‘Got quite a ring to it.’

‘Flick, it’s not funny.’

‘You’re right. Bad taste. I know.’ She looked sheepish. ‘But you know me, I’ll go to any lengths for a story.’

Maggie lay back on the sun lounger. It was a small, boutique hotel and there were a few people around the pool. Mostly couples. Everyone looked relaxed. Respectable. Reading books, listening to podcasts, their AirPods firmly in situ. Absently, she watched a wife rubbing suntan cream into her husband’s hairy back. This was the kind of place she’d envisioned for her honeymoon.

‘Either way, I have a feeling we’ll find him tomorrow.’

She snapped back. Now would be a good time to tell Flick about His text from last night. She didn’t like keeping secrets. She needed to be honest.