Page 87 of Meet Me in Berlin

‘You didn’t let on that you’d never stopped thinking about them!’

‘I’m sorry, Eva. I really am.’

She scoffs and necks the last mouthful of champagne, then plants her glass on the table with more force than necessary. ‘Your round.’

I stand. ‘No. We’re done here.’

‘Oh, go on. I’m winding you up. Of course I haven’t been in touch with your little Christmas carol. One more drink.’

I snatch up my wallet. ‘I’ll get you one, then I’m leaving. What do you want?’

‘Another glass of Moët – the 2013 vintage, not the other one.’

‘Vintage Moët? It’s about thirty quid a glass.’

‘And?’

‘And I’m not fucking paying thirty quid for something that will be gone in three mouthfuls.’

She gives a delicate little grunt. ‘I’m not a heathen; I sip champagne. It will take at least six.’

‘You’re getting sparkling wine or standard wine. Take your pick, otherwise, I’m gone.’

She huffs. ‘Fine. I’ll have a chardonnay, but make sure it’s not Australian.’

I roll my eyes and head for the bar.

Chapter 30

Holly, London

It’s just past five forty, and the glass doors of the Soho Contemporary Gallery are locked. Casey said she’d probably work late today, and I wanted to get here early to surprise her, but a delayed flight and sorting out keys for the Airbnb means I’m an hour later than planned. Across the narrow street, there’s a pub called The Regency and a bar on the corner. Did she say she goes to the pub across from the gallery after work, or the bar? I peer through the gallery doors. The lights are on, but how long before she comes out? I put in my AirPods. The surprise will have to be via FaceTime. After three rings, the call picks up and a woman with sleek dark hair and fine features appears on the screen.

‘Hello,’ she says, with a tone that suggests she knows me.

‘Oh. Hi. I was after Casey, but I must have the wrong?—’

‘This is Casey’s phone.’

A prickle of unease passes through me. ‘Is she … is she there?’

‘She’s at the bar buying me a drink.’ The woman narrows her heavily made-up eyes. ‘That background’s familiar. Almost like you’re in front of Casey’s gallery.’ Her eyes lift from the screen as she looks around.

I glance up and down the street and across at the pub, trying to identify her location. ‘Yes, I am. I came to meet Casey, but the gallery is closed. I thought she might be at the pub?’

‘I think I can see you,’ the woman says.

I scan the bodies in the pub window, and a woman matching the one on the screen wiggles her fingers at me.

‘You must be Holly.’

My eyes flick between my screen and the pub window. ‘I am.’

‘Well, Casey’s just at the bar. Why don’t you come over? I’m Eva, by the way.’

My shoulders drop and the murkiness in my belly disappears. ‘Okay.’ I step off the footpath and cross the road. ‘Are you a friend?’

She glances over her shoulder, then back to the screen. ‘You could say that.’

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