Page 28 of Meet Me in Berlin

I end the call and take advantage of being alone for a few more minutes. I long to be at my parents’ right now, dipping buttery white toast in runny egg yolk and eating greasy bacon and black pudding. Instead, I’m in a multimillion-pound house in South Kensington planning a wedding I don’t want to a woman I’m no longer sure I’m in love with. I glance at the artwork over the mantel – a piece from our gallery that I sold to Eva’s dad at an exhibition opening. It’s an impressionist work in vibrant oils of two lovers kissing on a tree-lined path that he bought because it reminded him of meeting Rosa. Eva was with him that night, bored by the exhibition but interested in me. We swiftly became caught up in each other, our differences drawing us together.

I try to pinpoint the moment the cracks began in our relationship. After that first mini-split, we fell in love all over again. Until we moved in together, maybe even a bit before that, if I’m truly honest with myself. The traits we once found endearing about each other weren’t so appealing when they were on constant display. Her bossiness and plummy accent, a turn-on at first, quickly became a turn-off when she started controlling everything in our shared home and began correcting my English.

I look at the lovers in the painting and run my palm over a tattoo on my upper arm. My mind drifts to Berlin and how much a kiss under a tree in that city meant to me, how it’s never left me. Maybe Jaz is right – space from Eva might be good. Being in Berlin helped me figure out what to do about Bethany. I grab my phone and tap out a message to Josanne.

Up for Berlin if you still need me to go.

I hesitate a second then hit send.

She replies immediately.

Yes! Thank you.

I drain my glass and head back to the kitchen.

Leila looks up. ‘How’s Jasmine?’

I give a bemused smile. ‘Jasmine?’

‘Oh. It’s such a pretty name,’ Leila says, dipping her head coyly. ‘It suits her better than Jaz.’

My smile broadens. Jazzy will love that comment. ‘She’s good. She said to tell you hi.’

Leila’s hazel eyes widen. ‘Really? She’s part of the wedding party, I take it?’

Before I have a chance to reply, Eva jumps in. ‘You are not getting off with Jaz.’

‘Why not?’ Leila asks innocently.

‘Um,’ Eva says, ‘because she sleeps with someone different every week.’

‘Not every week,’ I say. ‘And she is single, so…’

Eva rolls her eyes. ‘Well, that makes it okay, then.’ She jumps up and walks over to me. ‘So, next week, you need to keep every night free. I’ve already arranged tasting sessions at Margot’s restaurant for the main meal, and on Wednesday night a rehearsal dinner.’

I guess we’re not discussing the choice of chef. ‘Rehearsal? For what? Eating?’

Eva folds her arms, the familiar scowl forming. ‘We need to get everything right.’

I shake my head. ‘Can’t. I’m going away for work.’

She pulls her head back in surprise. ‘Since when?’

I break eye contact. ‘Er … Josanne asked me yesterday, but I didn’t … I wasn’t sure what was happening. Until now.’

‘She contacted you on a Saturday about a work trip?’

I clear my throat. ‘Yeah.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘Berlin. You know the exhibition I’ve helped curate for their gallery?’

She nods.

‘Well, I was going to the opening anyway, but they’re short-staffed, so they need help to finalise everything.’

‘And it has to be you who goes? You’re going to miss your dad’s birthday and Carnival?’

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