Page 69 of After Felix
I glare at him. “And even then I still had enough spare room in there to have gargled champagne and recited the national anthem.”
He throws his head back to laugh and then he sketches a salute. “God save the Queen,” he says in a very solemn voice.
I can’t stop my smile. His laughter fades away, and he stares at me intently.
“What is it?” I say nervously. “Oh myGod,is my hair a mess?”
He shoots a glance at my mop and his mouth twitches. “Not at all,” he says smoothly. “It looks much the same as normal.”
“A mess, then,” I say gloomily.
After another staring session, I spread my hands in a helpless gesture. “Why?”
He looks adorably awkward. Maybe even shy?
“I’ve accepted a last-minute speaking arrangement in Venice,” he confesses. “I just thought it would be nice for you if we travelled this way.”
“Wouldn’t it have been quicker by plane?”
“You haven’t travelled to many places, and I wanted to do something special for you,” he says almost stubbornly.
“Why?” I ask again.
“Do you really want to know?” His eyes have gone dark and mysterious.
I take a shallow breath. I can’t do this. I’m not ready for another conversation where he tries to persuade me back into bed even though he’s still in love with someone else.
Before I can answer him, there’s a whistle and the sound of slamming doors. The band begins to play loudly as the train pulls away. I abandon all dignity and race to the window, looking out eagerly. Several people wave to me from the platform, and I wave back.
When I turn back, Max is watching me with something I’d call tenderness.
“Thank you,” I finally say.
“You don’t mind?”
I shake my head. “It’s a bit of a moot point anyway, seeing asyou’ve stolen me away and are holding me captive on a luxury train.” My hand strays towards my phone so that I can capture this epic moment on social media. I remember to answer his question. “How could I mind? I mean, you’ve whisked me away on the Orient Express. I don’t even want to think how much this is costing you.”
“No, you don’t,” he says smoothly. “It’s a present.”
“We don’t give each other presents,” I say.
“Well, we should, in my opinion.”
“Well, buy me a pint, not the bloody Orient Express.”
“Darling, in the spirit of honesty, it’s just a cabin, and we don’t actually own the train.”
“Don’t call me darling,” I say automatically. “This cost far too much, Max. I don’t know what to say.”
“Just don’t say anything serious.” He leans forward in his seat.
“Then what do you want me to do?”
“I want you to be with me like you used to be.”
“That’s over and done. We can’t be that again.” The words are broken glass in my throat.
“Iknow,” he says passionately. “I know that, Felix,” he repeats in a gentler tone. “I just want you to be the way you were when you talked to me without barriers. When we would laugh and talk, and you didn’t look at me as though you hated me.”
