Page 90 of So, I Met This Guy . . .

‘I don’t have any. I deleted them.’

‘All of them?’

That’s what the policeman had said too, when Maggie had finally reported him missing, along with her life savings. He’d seemed incredulous and doubtful that anyone would do such a thing. As if somehow this made her story less believable. Why would she purposefully destroy the evidence? Obviously it had never happened to him so how could he possibly understand the desire to erase it all? He was young and newly married, judging by his shiny wedding ring. No doubt his photos were in silver frames and displayed proudly on the mantelpiece.

‘Maybe I was a fool to delete them all.’ Maggie shrugged. ‘Not that it was easy.’

‘Oh, you mean letting go.’ Flick shot her a sympathetic look.

‘No, I mean from iCloud.’ She laughed then, unexpectedly. ‘Have you any idea how hard it is to delete things from your iCloud? I am so not computer savvy. It took me for ever.’

‘Harder still to delete them from your heart, though, huh?’

Flick’s words caught Maggie by surprise. Was it that obvious, still?

But before she could deny it, Flick was tearing open a bread roll and buttering it.

‘God, I’m starving. It’s been a long day.’

‘Sorry, I hijacked the conversation.’

‘Hijack? Don’t be daft. You had important news.’

‘Well, not really. They’re on the same cruise, but so what? So are thousands of other people.’

‘It’s another lead, though. Did you get her number?’

‘No, I didn’t. Sorry, I’m not an investigative reporter.’

But she had His number, thought Maggie, guilt stabbing. They’d texted each other. Arranged to meet.

‘No worries.’ Flick shrugged. ‘Somehow I don’t think we’ve seen the last of Birdy.’

‘I know.’

As soon as she’d got some answers, she’d tell Flick. They could confront him together and she could get her story. She didn’t know how, but she’d figure it out somehow. She just had to keep the secret a little bit longer.

‘So how was the volcano? I’m dying to hear,’ asked Maggie, changing the subject.

Flick paused from tearing up her bread roll, trying to find the right words. Her whole life, she’d relied on words to articulate her feelings, but for once, language felt inadequate to describe how she’d felt today. Standing on the edge of a volcano in Sicily, with its dramatic lunar landscape, looking down at the Ionian Sea. Doing something so completely different to her normal everyday life, with a bunch of strangers whom she’d probably never see again, but for those few hours felt like the best of friends.

She’d heard all the clichés about travel broadening the mind and being transformative, but she’d never really got it before. Never felt it, until today, when their guide had led them up to the crater and she’d felt a delicious moment of insignificance. Of getting out of her own head. Of abandoning the desire to always be in control, because up here even she knew she couldn’t control a volcano so what was the point? Just let it go.

She thought for some time, then took the easy way out.

‘Bloody amazing.’

‘That’s so great.’

‘What about the cooking class?’

‘Well, it was certainly an experience.’

‘But did you enjoy it?’

‘Yeah, it was good. Especially the food.’ Maggie smiled, remembering the huge lunch they’d had afterwards, out in the garden, where they’d all sat at a long trestle table and feasted on one delicious dish after another. How could she be hungry again? ‘Though The Godmother was pretty scary.’

‘Was she really called The Godmother?’