Page 59 of You Belong With Me

This was pure Elliot: his flirting often hinted at a shared future. Edie tried in vain to fit together the casual adoration, this risk-taking with her expectations, with what Fraser had said. The exact opposite. His brother had prefaced his WhatsApps about Ines to Edie with:He’s not going to bother lying to me, is he?How those words had turned from comfort to poison.

‘No hat,’ Edie said, ruffling his shiny dark hair affectionately, as he stuffed it in his coat pocket. ‘I think it might draw attention indoors at night.’

Approximately fifteen minutes later, she bitterly regretted both the no hat policy and her inability to learn from the past.

‘How fast can you drink?’ Edie whispered, knocking back a quarter of a white wine in one go.

They were in a reasonably lively bar near the hotel, and Edie could feel pennies dropping. It was odd how you developed a sixth sense for it.

The trouble was, Edie thought, Elliot was pleasant to look at. It happened in stages. First, they walked in and existing customers scanned the newcomers merely reflexively. Then eyes settled on the fact that Edie’s male companion was not only handsome but wore that special, indefinable aura of a polished-up, loaded person from another realm.

It wasn’t that Elliot was showy, if you set aside coats that cost four figures. He was just a bit too chiselled and pore-less to be a standard sight in a regional boozer on a Saturday night.

Once he was being inspected for his intrinsic aesthetic appeal, there came the dawning realisation. Didn’t he have dragon-green eyes, at some other time? Wasn’t he in armour? Was his hair a bit longer? Did he possibly wield swords in the direction of computer-generated, fire-breathing magical creatures? Clunk.It’s that guy. You know, the guy from that thing. What? It can’t be. I’m telling you, it is. Look. Isn’t he from round here?

‘We been made?’ Elliot said, managing a deep swig of Estrella.

‘We are in the process of being made, I think,’ Edie said.

Elliot looked over her shoulder at the crowded room beyond. ‘Given the size of the place and the level of pissedness, it might be an idea to cut our losses.’

‘Yeah.’ Edie sighed, having figured as much.

They downed another gulp each and communicated wordlessly: straight to the door.

Edie glanced back as they escaped and could see a group of half a dozen or so by the bar staring in wonder at them, mercifully not waving phones.

They were seconds away from figuring out that the couple leaving their round undrunk was confirmation of their suspicions.

Outside, Elliot pulled his hat on. ‘Is there somewhere quieter?’

‘It’s Saturday night,’ Edie said. ‘Nowhere is, really.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ Elliot said.

‘Don’t be. It’s nice you tried.’

She remembered when they were working on the book and Elliot said something like:people refuse to treat you normally then accuse you of not being normal enough.Right now, she could see why known faces opted for nosebleed expensive private members’ clubs and restaurants with door men.

‘OK, I may have a Plan B,’ Edie said, putting her arm through Elliot’s, as they winced against the chill. ‘It’s crazy but it might just work. It’s the best bad idea I’ve got.’

She chaperoned him to a slightly out of the way pub that no one would choose as a destination. It was a stopgap chain place, one for divorced men to stare listlessly over pints of mild and play the fruities. Its dreariness surely offered a high degree of safety.

Edie’s mistake with the last venue was to choose one with the demographic of clientele to watch fantasy sagas and have Instagram accounts.

As they arrived, Elliot pulled his phone out. ‘Missed call from Lillian. And she messaged me saying she needs to talk ASAP. I’ll tell her I’ll pick it up when I get in? It’s only afternoon, her time.’

‘Want to take it now?’ Edie said. ‘I don’t mind.’

Edie got the round in, and Elliot paced the pavement outside, conducting what looked to be a very involved conversation. She worried in case he was recognised, but the combination of hat, frowning with handset on face, and the fact temperatures were too low for loitering seemed to be protection enough.

She twiddled the stem of her glass and mentally replayed the Fraser quotes for the hundredth time. Why would Elliot tell his brother they wouldn’t last and freely hint at cohabitation and marriage on the horizon to her?Eavesdroppers never hear any good of themselves.Turned out clichés were clichés for good reason.

Elliot eventually swept back in, pulling the hat off as a statement offuck it. He picked up his pint with gusto. ‘I need that.’

‘Is everything OK?’

Elliot swallowed and fixed her with a look. ‘A gossip site in the US is running the story that I flew back overnight to see you about the Ines story.’

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