Page 30 of The Wedding Game

Queen Victoria’s childhood doll’s house is on display and I’m fascinated by all the tiny furniture, the miniature decorations and the intricate chandeliers.

Josh wanders over, bends down to kneel alongside me as we peer in together. ‘Thinking of all the things you’d do to it, if you could redecorate?’

I laugh. ‘Yeah, I’d rip out all this Victorian crap, for a start,’ I say, which elicits a horrified gasp from an American tourist next to us.

‘All those frilly cushions and doilies?’ Josh asks as we share a knowing smile.

‘They’d be the first to go,’ I reply, playing along.

‘Replace them with fake plants and Ikea furniture?’

‘Obviously,’ I say. ‘Actually I’m more into working with what’s already there. This is the problem,’ I say, more to myself. ‘I don’t think I have a particular style. I see what’sin situand what can be kept that will look effortless and comfortable but is also in keeping with the style and age of a building or a room.’

‘Why’s that a problem?’ Josh asks, rising.

‘I don’t know,’ I reply as I stand up. ‘Maybe it’s not. Maybe I need to find out.’

Minutes later we’re in the gift shop, playing a game of ‘Guess how much this is?’ I’m holding up a Christmas-tree ornament; it’s in the shape of a mantua dress, embroidered with ivory and gold beads.

Josh looks at it and then at me. ‘Ten pounds.’

‘I wish it was ten pounds,’ I reply.

He narrows his eyes, looks thoughtfully at it. ‘Thirty pounds.’

‘Higher.’

His eyebrows raise. ‘Higher than thirty? For a tree decoration?’

‘Much higher.’

‘Who buys this stuff?’ he asks, as the American who took umbrage at our interior-design chat steps forward to look at the range of decorations.

I put Josh out of his misery. ‘It’s sixty pounds.’

‘Wow!’ he says. ‘That’s a really decent bottle of wine.’

I give him a look. ‘Or, if you’re me, that’s six bottles of decent wine.’

Josh smiles. ‘I’m having fun.’

‘Me too. Where next?’

We emerge into the sunlight, where a vendor is selling Pimm’s with fruit and cucumber trimmings and gourmet packets of crisps. Josh orders for us both, and we walk through the parkland again until we find a spot in the sunshine and settle ourselves on the grass, talking about the most random things we saw today and opening up our strange picnic of croissants, pastries, crisps and Pimm’s.

‘I really like you,’ Josh confesses out of nowhere as we finish eating.

My heart has just picked up pace. ‘I really like you too,’ I say.It’s date number three,I tell myself.Or still date two, if we’re being technical about it. Don’t go too quickly. Don’t ruin it, Lexie. It’s too soon with Josh, and only a fortnight ago you were considering getting on a plane with another man.I wonder what Chris is doing right now? Things have moved on so unexpectedly quickly with Josh that it feels wrong to think about messaging Chris now.

‘So I’ve been thinking,’ Josh says.

And I wonder ifhe’sabout to ruin it. Ifhe’sabout to say something silly, so I lean forward to kiss him, surprising him.

‘What was that for?’ he asks when we break loose.

‘I don’t want to go too fast,’ I tell him. ‘I don’t want to wreck it.’

He frowns. ‘OK,’ he says slowly. ‘I mean, we’ve already slept together and so … I’m not really sure what else would be going quicker than that? I’m not about to propose or anything,’ he jokes.

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