Page 81 of The Lucky Escape

‘No,’ he replied. ‘I wouldn’t. But also, if the shoe was on the other foot I wouldn’t explore moving anywhere, let alone abroad, without talking to you first. Do you see the difference? I know this is new, Annie, but I thought it was pretty serious …’

I moved aside as a mother and her child reached across to get to the dried pasta.

‘You and me,’ he continued. ‘It’s been good, hasn’t it? This could really be something. If you want to move to Antwerp for a job you love then okay, cool, let’s talk about it. But ten minutes ago you were all for quitting the stupid job.’

A single tear spilled over and ran down my cheek before I brushed it away with the back of my hand. I didn’t even know why I was crying. It just started happening and I was helpless about it.

‘Don’t call my job stupid.’

‘I didn’t. You did.’

‘Don’t use my words against me, then.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘When is this “research trip”?’ I could hear the inverted commas in the way he said it.

‘I fly Thursday morning. Back Friday.’

‘Let me know how you get on, then,’ he said. We stared at each other.

‘I’m upset, Annie,’ he pressed. ‘I can’t figure out what’s changed in the fifteen minutes we’ve been home, but I feel you pulling away from me. We said being back wouldn’tchange us. But I can’t fight for somebody who wouldn’t fight for me. I’m not a mug.’

‘Nothing’s changed,’ I insisted, but as soon as the words left my mouth I knew it wasn’t true. It sounded hollow.

‘Like I say,’ Patrick carried on. ‘I’m upset. I can’t do this here. I’m going to go home and calm down, okay? Then we can talk. I don’t think I’m being unreasonable about any of this.’

I nodded gloomily, still crying and tears blurring my vision. He walked away, making the bell above the shop door tinkle as he left. I knew I should have gone after him, but I didn’t want to. Maybe that’s what the tears were for. I had guilt from being pulled in two directions. I’d meant what I said: I couldn’t plan my life around him. I didn’t want to have to ‘ask’ him if it was ‘okay’ for me to go to Antwerp to see what the office there was like. I didn’t want ‘permission’, or to put problems in the way of a chance I wasn’t even sure I wanted to take yet. I just wanted to do it. To be free and able to be the kind of woman who said, ‘Antwerp? Sure – get me on a plane!’ without second-guessing myself. I hadn’t done anything wrong by giving Chen’s assistant my passport details to book the flight. Had I?

Urgh. I felt horrible. I had not expected the day to unfold like this when I’d woken up: this was too fast. It was too much to figure out. I liked Patrick! What was I playing at? And yet … That night was the first night we’d spent apart where I didn’t text him before bed. Patrick didn’t text me either. After so many firsts – first drink, first kiss, first meet-the-parents – we were officially having another: first fight.

39

I was scheduled on a 7 a.m. flight from London City Airport that got into Antwerp at just after 7 a.m., given the one-hour time difference. The plan was twenty-four hours in the city, with a meet-and-greet with the team at the lab, a group lunch, and then an evening of playing tourist before hopping back on an 8 a.m. flight the next morning, ready to give Chen my verdict.

Let’s talk when you get back,Patrick texted as I waited to take off, after I’d wished him a good morning.

Okay,I’d replied, not really knowing what else to say. Adzo had counselled me through sitting with my emotions instead of trying to fix everything, which had been helpful.

‘Don’t rush into smoothing it all over until you’re sure of what you want,’ she’d said. ‘After so much intense time together, maybe a few days apart is just the medicine. He’ll be here when you get back.’

‘Yeah,’ I’d agreed, but part of me missed him already. Being in an airport was less fun alone than with him, and obviously the last time I’d flown was with him and his buckets ofenthusiasm. I kept thinking about him, and about everything that had happened when we were away. I hadn’t seen him since the corner shop, three days ago. He said he needed to take this time to sort out his feelings. He didn’t want to say something he might regret, he’d explained. I felt like I was being punished.

I don’t like fighting,I texted back.

Same,he said, followed by a row of kisses that could either be read as earnest, or putting a full stop to the interaction. I sent a row of kisses back and turned off my phone for take-off.

‘Annie!’

I waltzed through customs in the easiest disembarkation I’d ever had to be met by a tall, blue-eyed man waving through the small crowd. I recognized Jules immediately from our Zoom calls, but in real life and higher definition I could see what Adzo had meant about the movie-star good looks that translated better in real life. He was stunning.

He reached out a massive hand and I shook it.

‘It’s wonderful to meet you in person,’ he said, and his English was perfect. He had a tiny accent that reminded me of Sean Connery’s. ‘How was your flight?’

He gallantly took my overnight bag, despite my protestations, and we walked into the multi-storey car park as I told him how easy it had been to get from my house to the airport, and how incredible it was to me that in just over an hour I was there, ready to be wowed.

‘Do you know much about the city?’ he enquired.

‘Is it bad if I say no …?’ I asked sheepishly.

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