Page 4 of The Woman Who Said Yes

I study her across the table. Her finely boned face is flushed, her dark eyes gleaming in the candlelight. I’ve known her to have numerous crushes and infatuations, but I’ve never seen her quite like this. ‘In what way?’ I ask.

‘You said he’s different,’ Sam prompts her.

‘Yeah. He’s like… a proper grown-up, believe it or not.’

‘Wow!’ I picture the kind of man she goes for normally; guitar-strumming, roll-up smoking nocturnal types.

‘You sure about this, Eves?’ I tease.

She nods, beaming. ‘Honestly, it’s a whole new thing for me. But we talked for hours and the whole afternoon flew by in a blur. It felt as if we’d known each other forever.’

‘So what happened after that?’ I ask.

Eva laughs. ‘Well, let’s just say I got to know his stateroom and it was a lot tidier than mine.’

‘Stateroom. You have all the terminology now,’ Sam remarks with a smile.

‘I do. And from then on we spent all our time together.’ She sweeps a piece of pitta through the tzatziki. ‘I mean, all of it.’

‘Tell me you did get off the boat, though?’ Sam chuckles. ‘All those incredible destinations⁠—’

‘Oh yeah, we saw them all,’ Eva confirms. ‘Lucca, Marseille, Barcelona…’ She pulls out her phone and brings up a picture of an extremely handsome, smiling man. Clean-shaven with immaculately cut silvery hair, he radiates affluence and healthy living. The kind of man who navigates a wine list with confidence and doesn’t just plump for the second cheapest option.

‘He’s gorgeous,’ I exclaim. ‘And he’s what, fifty-two, you said?’

‘That’s right,’ she replies, and divulges further info: long-term single, never married, no kids. Beautiful riverside house in Chiswick which needs a ton of work, but he’s taking it slowly, keen to get it just right. ‘Property’s his thing,’ she explains. ‘He has places all over London, from what I can gather. I think he’s pretty astute and clever with money, you know? But we haven’t really gone into all that.’ She is keener to tell us that this was Dom’s first cruise too and that, like her, he wasn’t keen on being herded on group tours. So they whiled away their shore days in little back-street bars and restaurants where the locals go (Dom seemed to know instinctively how to find them). They missed seeing all the big tourist attractions: the cathedrals and galleries on those guided tours. ‘But they’ll still be there, right?’ Eva says. ‘We’re already talking about going away again pretty soon.’

‘Are you?’ I exclaim. ‘God, Eva, this is great! I’m so happy for you.’

Niko appears with a couple of complimentary plates: grilled, herby aubergines and a bowl of leafy greens, glossy with olive oil. Whenever a space appears on the table, something new appears to fill it. ‘You really are looking extra sparkly tonight,’ he tells Eva.

‘I’m in love, Niko,’ she announces.

‘Oh, you break my heart!’ He laughs, clasping both hands to his chest, then meanders away, still chuckling, to attend to another table. Then, with our food finally finished, Eva has more photos to show us. There they are, on the deck at dinner and raising cocktails in various bars on board. Then beaming happily, looking every inch a proper couple, at the harbour-side in Marseille. I think of the last guy she was seeing: a DJ called Giacomo. He seemed to love her larky company, and the glamour of her life as a stylist – but became rather jealous about the male models she worked with. ‘He’s very good-looking,’ he’d remark, poring over the images from one of her shoots. Of course he was! He was the top earner at his agency! Before Giacomo, there was Harry-the-gardener with whom Eva had enjoyed a fun-filled summer until he’d started lecturing her about the awfulness of the fashion industry and her part in it. Pelting her with statistics as if climate change was entirely her fault.

‘I’m completely happy on my own,’ she has told us many times. In fact, for most of the time I’ve known her, she’s been single. These days, the three of us are. Sam’s partner left him and their son a decade ago, taking off on a trip to Thailand that left the pair of them reeling, and from which she was never to return. My marriage might have rumbled on, had Phil not blown it up in spectacular fashion. For the past four years I’ve been by myself, punctuated by the occasional date that hasn’t really gone anywhere. It’s been fine, mostly. Since my kids have flown the nest, and Sam’s son Theo has been able to look after himself – albeit surviving on cereal – we’ve had our Knitwits’ weekends away, and even holidays together. Eva never wanted kids and tends to be the instigator of our adventures. Really, we are family. It certainly feels that way and I can’t imagine it ever changing.

‘So…’ Sam smiles cheekily. ‘When are we going to meet him?’

Eva sits back, making an ineffectual attempt to smooth her disobedient hair. ‘Pretty soon.’

‘Because obviously, we’ve got to vet this guy,’ I add.

‘Totally,’ she agrees. And then she tilts her chin upwards and turns, as if wired to detect the door opening behind her. A tall, impeccably groomed man has stepped into the restaurant and is looking around expectantly. Eva waves at him and his face breaks into a huge smile. She glances back at us, joy spread like honey all over her face.

‘Eves?’ I start. ‘Is this—’ I break off as he strides between tables towards us.

‘Yes!’ She beams. ‘It’s Dom. Hope you don’t mind me inviting him?’

‘Not at all,’ Sam says. At this precise moment Dom barges past Tara, sending her reeling back into a table with a drink-laden tray. She catches my glance – neither Sam nor Eva saw this happen – and we exchange a startled look. However, Dom doesn’t stop. There’s no apology or even an acknowledgement that she’d had to grab at the water carafe to prevent it from toppling. It’s as if he hadn’t even seen her; that she doesn’t exist.

‘Of course we don’t mind,’ I insist, quickly rearranging my expression to one of delight.

Eva smiles, her cheeks flushed pink. ‘I’m so glad. You’re the best, you two. And you’re going to love him.’ Then she springs up and they embrace. ‘Dom, this is Andie and Sam,’ she announces. ‘My very best friends.’

Still a little rattled by his rudeness, I jump up and hug him. ‘Great to meet you, Dom.’

‘You too, Andie.’ He flashes a quick smile.