Page 89 of So, I Met This Guy . . .

‘Isn’t it a bit early to be drinking?’

‘It’s five o’clock somewhere.’ Clinking her glass against Maggie’s, she took a large swig. ‘So, where were we? Ah yes, your ex-fiancé. So come on, where’s the fucker now?’

Maggie looked over at Birdy, leaning against the counter, observing her.

‘That’s just it, I don’t really know,’ she shrugged. ‘My friend Flick, she’s a journalist. She found out he was in Monte Carlo, so we flew out last weekend, only he gave us the slip. But we know he’s on a cruise ship, so we rented a car and we’ve been driving across Europe, following its itinerary, trying to find him ever since.’

‘And what are you going to do when you find him?’ Birdy raised a smile. ‘Kill him?’

Maggie laughed. She actually laughed.

‘And that’s why you’re in Taormina?’

‘I know it sounds crazy.’

‘I like crazy.’ Birdy grinned. ‘Being normal is totally overrated.’

The two women looked at each other as they realized they had more in common than they first thought.

‘It sounds like quite some adventure. So where next?’

‘Spain. We leave tomorrow.’

‘Whereabouts?’

‘Palma in Mallorca.’

‘Well, would you believe it, that’s where I’m heading.’

Maggie stared at her in surprise. ‘No way. When’s your flight?’

‘Oh, I’m not flying, honey.’ Draining the rest of her glass, Birdy reached for the bottle and refilled her glass. ‘I’m on a cruise.’

Letting Go

‘And it’s the same cruise.’

‘Shut up!’

In the garden of a small trattoria, tucked away down a cobbled side street, Flick paused from diving on the breadbasket and stared wide-eyed at Maggie across the white linen tablecloth. It was one of those romantic restaurants, strung with fairy-lights, that catered for couples who liked to sit close together around a fountain, on tiny tables that forever wobbled, however many times you folded up a napkin and shoved it under various metal legs.

Still, the hotel had made the reservation and they were lucky to get a table as, being the height of summer, everywhere was fully booked. They’d arranged to meet here, rather than back at the hotel, and while Flick might have reasonably assumed that a day spent hiking an active volcano at three thousand metres would be more interesting than a cooking class, it turned out Maggie was the one with the exciting news.

‘So has she seen him?’

‘You just told me to shut up.’

‘It’s an expression of disbelief,’ gasped Flick, exasperated. Honestly, sometimes Maggie felt like her mother and not in a good way.

‘Well, it’s a stupid expression.’

‘So, has she?’

‘She couldn’t recall meeting anyone of that name. But then, there’s thousands of people on board.’

As soon as Birdy had said she was on a cruise, Maggie had felt her stomach drop. Turns out it was the very same Galaxy Goddess he’d embarked in Monte Carlo. Yet when she told Birdy she didn’t seem surprised at all, saying, ‘See. I told you I don’t believe in coincidences.’

‘Didn’t you show her a photo of him?’