Page 52 of Textbook Romance

‘Coffee for the lady. I also peered at our options. There is a nice-looking Eggs Benedict, lots of avocado, too, if that’s your thing,’ Jack says, returning to his seat. ‘I also got you some fresh orange juice. They have that machine where you can see them squishing the oranges.’

I smile to see how that’s provided him with so much amusement. I take a polite sip, just as two people walk past wearing just robes and the hotel slippers.

‘At least we put actual clothes on,’ Jack jokes. ‘You still look like you’re on edge,’ he says, adding some milk to his coffee and stirring in some sugar.

I shrug my shoulders. ‘It’s just an interesting experiment to be out with you. In public.’

‘I like it. It feels like we’re doing something normal. I can see how you take your coffee. I can learn a bit more about you.’

He leans in over the table, and as much as I want to kiss him, right here, right now, it still doesn’t feel quite right to do that here. People are eating, for a start.

‘Poached eggs. If you want to know something about me, I love a poached egg,’ I tell him.

‘Then that’s where we’ll start. Stay here, get comfy – let me. With smoked salmon, English muffin, spinach?’

I’m not sure how that was written on my face but that sounds perfect. I nod and he wanders away again as I take in the view.

‘Well, she’s obviously older?’ I suddenly hear a voice coming from the other table. My ears tentatively turn to the conversation as I pretend to sip my coffee. I can only suppose they’re talking about me. I spy bottles of organic champagne on the table which tells me they’re here for the health but also the mimosas with the freshly squished oranges. Someone tells the woman to shush.

‘Maybe he’s a kindly cousin or relative that’s taken her out for the weekend,’ one of them cackles. ‘I don’t think they’re together, together.’

‘Maybe she’s rich. Like he’s a toyboy.’

The lady with the big 40 badge catches my eyes and blushes hard, trying to quieten down her friends and family. I try to focus on the river and streets below. And I think about what they would have said if it had been Mia and Ed here. Knowing what I do about Mia, she would shut them up, for sure. There would be an orange juice massacre. But what if it was Brian? They’d leave us alone. We’d look like a couple in their forties enjoying a weekend away. We’d have blended into the background, and they’d move their attentions elsewhere. I’m not sure how I feel to suddenly be so visible.

Jack returns to the table, and I see eyes following him.

‘All ordered, they will bring it over. I also went for a seed sprinkle which I apologise for but your man at the egg station said something about omega-3 and I was sold.’

‘He’s not wearing a ring. I don’t think they’re together,’ a voice drifts in again.

Jack raises his eyebrows to hear it. Given his back is to them, it’s far easier for him to signal his disapproval in his face.

‘What else have they said?’ he whispers.

‘All sorts,’ I say, trying to hide my face. ‘They think I might be super rich, and you are perhaps my toyboy.’

‘Rude. Are you rich, though? Could I hit you up for some Armani?’

I laugh but he studies my face, and I see his eyes change to realise my sadness at it all, that this group of women feel it appropriate to shame me. He turns around in his chair. Whoa, don’t do that.

‘Morning, ladies. Just checking, do you have any spare sugar on your table?’ They all stare at him for a moment before someone hands a white ramekin over. I feel every inch of me freeze. What is he doing? Please don’t. ‘And happy birthday,’ he says to the lady in the badge. ‘Is that why you’re all here?’

A girl who can’t be older than her mid-twenties chimes in. ‘Yeah. That’s my Aunty Jade.’ She pushes her chest out and flutters her fake eyelashes.

‘Well, we hope you have a lovely weekend. Are you enjoying it? My wife and I think it’s amazing here.’

They all turn their gazes towards me.

‘Yeah, it really is,’ Jade with the 40 badge says to break the incredibly awkward silence. ‘How long have you been married?’

He turns to me and takes my hand. ‘Oh, five years today. Taking the opportunity to get away from the kids, shag each other senseless and chill in the spa, you know?’ I can’t seem to breathe. Someone who I think might be Grandma in their party seems to expel orange juice through her nostrils. The table is silent. ‘Best woman I know,’ he tells them, gripping my hand even tighter. ‘Enjoy your breakfast, ladies. Thanks for the sugar.’

He turns back to me, and I notice that cheeky glint in his eye again. The same one I saw a few times last night when he was lying next to me, on my bed. I could very well die of embarrassment, right here, right now, but I think I don’t mind it. The table behind is silent and a waiter suddenly appears with two of the exact same orders. It’s Eggs Benedict but it seems to be served on a bed of cress.

‘Amazing, thank you,’ I tell the waiter.

‘You’re welcome, Mrs Rogers. Can I get anything else for you?’

---