Page 82 of The Lucky Escape

He chuckled. ‘Nobody does, really,’ he admitted. ‘Which means it’s all the more fun to play tour guide. I can showyou all the best places, and not just because we’re desperate for you to join us here. I’m also very proud of where I’m from.’

‘Born and bred Antwerp?’ I asked, as he paused in front of a black Toyota hybrid, hitting his keys to open the boot and effortlessly slipping in my bag without breaking a sweat.

‘There’s not a square or street or food stall in this city I don’t know about.’ He smiled, hitting another button to automatically close the trunk and swiftly moving to open the passenger door for me. ‘You’ll see.’

Jules drove fast but confidently, tapping out the rhythm of the music singing out from the radio. He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, I noticed, but he did mention his two little boys in passing, Mathis and Victor.

‘We’ll go to the lab,’ he explained, as we zipped through from the main roads to quieter back streets. ‘And after lunch we can check you into the hotel.’

It wasn’t a question, so I murmured my agreement and watched as we approached what was presumably the centre of town. Jules shot me a grin as the buildings started to change, satisfied that I’d noticed the beauty.

‘They say Antwerp is a world city on a human scale,’ he explained, turning the music down. ‘There’s always something to see and do and eat, but it’s mostly walkable and has a friendlier, more village-like feel than somewhere like London.’ He looked at me again, and I raised my eyebrows.

‘Would you be offended if I said I’m born and raised London, and so to methat’sthe centre of the universe?’ I countered. I didn’t even know if I meant that, but I felt compelled to stick up for the place I was from.

He laughed. ‘Noted!’ he said. ‘And for the record, I love London. But we’ve had a couple of people transfer over here,and everyone says how nice it is to slow down. That London is a bit treadmill-y – you just keep going and going and going.’

‘Fair enough. Ihavebeen wanting to slow down lately,’ I admitted. ‘A change of scenery could be nice.’ As we pulled up to the kerb in a small side street a man who looked like Patrick passed by, and my heart skipped a beat until I realized that of course it wasn’t him. How could it be? Jules parked up and looked at his watch as I fingered my phone in my pocket, resisting the urge to see if Patrick had sent a text.

‘Coffee?’ Jules asked, executing the perfect parallel park.

‘Please,’ I replied, taking my hand out of my pocket like I’d been caught doing something I shouldn’t have.

We walked, and I hadn’t been prepared for what I saw when we turned a corner into one of the main parts of the city. In a big square were tall stone buildings all pressed up against each other, with narrow windows scoring the front – like the area around Fleet Street back home. It was majestic. Imposing.

‘Whoa,’ I said, gaping in admiration.

The sun was shining and the sky was clear, and the pale stone of the buildings contrasted with the bright flags outside the biggest one, the one that looked like some kind of town hall or central courthouse.

‘The Grote Market,’ Jules stated, and I noticed his designer sunglasses and his stubble and the white of his pressed shirt against the blue of his navy suit. His teeth lined up like perfect ivory gravestones, and his full lips glistened where his tongue had darted out to lick them, just briefly. I couldn’t wait to report back to Adzo that he was as attractive as she’d suggested. She’d love that I’d noticed.

‘This is thirteenth century,’ Jules said. ‘But we reached our prime in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. That’s when Antwerp was the most important city in the Low Countries.’

He moved to stand behind me and lightly put a hand on my shoulder. Lowering his voice and looking out in the same direction as me, pointing just beyond my eyeline he said, ‘Imagine a bustling centre with Flemish merchants doing business with traders from all over Europe. These are all the guild houses, and that’s the Stadhuis – the town hall.’

‘This is seriously impressive,’ I said, turning to him and instantly blushing. I couldn’t help it. I felt disloyal to Patrick, but there was something about being in such close proximity to somebody that handsome. Kezza had briefly dated an actor who’d been inKilling Eveand all the Core Four had agreed: some people really are just otherworldly hot, in a way that defies the physics of humanness. Jules was one of them. I took a step away from him, in case his beauty blinded me. ‘Totally picturesque,’ I added.

‘And at Christmas, Annie,’ he said, and using my name in a sentence like that was a claim on me, ‘it’s unmatched. With the winter market and ice rink …’

He kissed his fingertips, like a happy chef. It really was breath-taking, and I let being somewhere foreign wash over me. Mere hours ago I was waking up in an empty house in London, Carol already across the road with Lenny and Dash, in the middle of a fight with my boyfriend and my ex-fiancé and counting down the days until I moved, not to mention the money in my bank account barely enough to cover first and last month’s rent on wherever I needed to move to. And now I was here, in Antwerp, with a handsome man who was almost offensively attractive for a colleague, and a sense ofadventure pulsing through my veins. Was my ‘maktub’ moment the fact that, right on cue, I was potentially able to move countries, and move homes? It would be one hell of a fresh start. If I got a promotion here I’d be able to afford to live on my own, and Adzo had said I’d get a relocation package to help me get up and running, meaning it wouldn’t even cost me anything to set up afresh. Old Annie would never have got on the plane and explored moving to another country. Being here proved I’d changed. Australia, and Patrick, had made sure of it.

Patrick.

I was so mad at him for expecting me to be adventurous, but only once I’d consulted him. Our terse texts were so unlike us, but both of our feelings had been hurt. I hated the confrontation, but somehow knew it was important. I’d never stood up for myself with Alexander. I had to with Patrick, otherwise what had it all been for?

‘About that coffee,’ Jules said, interrupting my reverie. I turned my attention back to him. ‘This is the tourist haven. Let me show you my Antwerp …’

I trotted after him as he strode ahead, glancing back to get one last look at the square.Patrick would love it here,I couldn’t help thinking.

‘Now,’ Jules said, slowing so that we could walk in step. ‘We must look out for number sixteen.’

‘Number sixteen?’

‘Yes. This is Oude Koornmarkt, and at number sixteen we’ll see a sign to the Vlaeykensgang. I think you’ll love it.’

‘You’re doing pretty good as a tour guide,’ I observed. ‘This is all gorgeous. I am really, really impressed.’ I looked up just in time to see a faded blue sign hanging from an elaborate wrought-iron pole. ‘Oh!’ I exclaimed. ‘Sixteen!’

‘Right this way, then,’ Jules demurred, holding out an arm to let me go ahead.

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