Page 18 of Midnight in Paris

He must be joking. This attractive, self-assured young man with a choice of bright futures ahead of him, no matter which way he turned. ‘Well, we’re leaving in a couple of weeks,’ she said. ‘Everything’s going to change.’

He raked a hand through his hair. ‘But you said…’

‘Tom. Come on. Is this just about being dumped?’

He flinched slightly at the word. She wondered whether she was the first woman ever to break up with him. That might be it. A pride thing. ‘No,’ he said at last. ‘I just thought… Well, things were going OK, weren’t they? Did I miss something?’

She shook her head. ‘No… I just… it’s going to be impossible. Seriously, I’m going to be teacher-training in Bedfordshire, you’ll be in the city swaggering around in a suit. What are we going to do? Meet up at weekends?’

He looked down. ‘We could,’ he said.

She touched his arm. ‘Tom, you’re a great guy. But come on. This was fun, but we’re not compatible long-term.’

‘How can you say that? You don’t know that!’

‘I can say that because it’s true. Take Paris for starters.’

‘YoulovedParis!’

‘Yes, I did. And thank you so much. But we wanted different things even then. I suppose it made me realise that we are different. Different worlds, different ambitions…’ she trailed off.

‘Is this about the fuckingMona Lisa?’ he said.

She snorted – a loud, single burst of laughter. ‘Tom. Of course not!’

‘Soph… you’re the only one I can… talk to, you know. Properly.’

‘You can talk to anyone! You barely draw breath.’

He stepped back, hurt. ‘Not like that. You know what I mean. I thought we meant something.’

Her head spun slightly as the drink began to fully hit her bloodstream. Was he being facetious? It just felt so… odd. To have someone fight for her. And he was so far above her league. It was as if it was all an elaborate joke.

‘We can still talk,’ she said. ‘We’re still friends, aren’t we?’

He nodded. ‘So that’s still a no then?’

‘No to what?’

‘Me. As your boyfriend.’

She laughed. ‘Seriously? You really want to be a couple like that? With me?’

He misread her incredulity. ‘Forget it.’

‘Oh, Tom. Don’t take it like that! I mean…’

‘No. You’re right. Incompatible,’ he said, turning.

‘Oh, come on. I just meant…’

But he was too far now, his long pace carrying him quickly along the chequered pavement.

Moments later, a breathless Libby appeared at her side. ‘Was that Tom?’

‘Yeah.’

‘You all right?’

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