Page 34 of Love ad Lib
She turned to ‘Timetable and Events’. Most of the days were blank.
‘I haven’t been very involved in any of the planning,’ he explained. ‘But, when,if, we get there and there’s any activity you don’t like, you don’t have to do it.’
‘What kind of things might I not like? Surely, it’s mainly centred around meals?’
‘Sardines. That might not be your thing.’
‘Tinned or fresh?’
He smiled. ‘It’s a Victorian parlour game. Like hide and seek in reverse. We used to love it as kids but haven’t played for years. Summer, my youngest sister, is insisting we resurrect it.’
‘Okay, I think I can cope with that.’
She turned the page to ‘Backstory’. It was empty.
‘I didn’t know what we should say about how we met,’ he said. ‘I thought you might have some ideas? Maybe some kind of party?’
Her stomach knotted as she remembered a garden party four years ago at India’s parents’ house where she’d met Giles, her ex. He was just like Henry: well-dressed, well-mannered and upper-class. But no matter how much she tried to mesh their two completely different lives into one, putting a working-class girl with a toff was like trying to mix oil and water.
‘What kind of events do you normally go to?’ she asked.
‘I’m mainly wining and dining clients, but I get invited to all kinds of things. Private views, opening nights, premieres, book launches.’ He stared at the table, seeming embarrassed. ‘I only get invitations because of my name.’
Libby knew exactly what kind of women went to these events. She’d seen their photographs in India’s posh magazines. They were rich, well-connected and glossy. The polar opposite of her. But she still needed to hear from Henry just what sort of woman she had to pretend to be.
‘What kind of women do you normally, er, date?’
He glanced at her, his forehead furrowed. ‘Does it matter?’
She nodded.
He ran his hand over his head. ‘I don’t know if I have a type.’
‘The woman you were meant to have a date with, what was she like?’
‘Elizabeth?’ He shrugged. ‘She’s nice. Er, a lawyer, tall…’
‘Do you have a photo of her?’
‘A photo?’
‘Yes, to help me get into character.’
‘I don’t want you to be like her,’ he said, looking increasingly uncomfortable. ‘I just need you to be you.’
She bit the inside of her cheek. Being herself hadn’t been good enough for Giles, and it certainly wouldn’t be good enough for Henry.
‘Show me, please?’
He pulled out his phone and tapped the screen before handing it to her. She scrolled through the photos. Elizabeth skiing. Elizabeth paddleboarding on azure blue water. Elizabeth in a slinky cocktail dress accepting an award. Elizabeth looking like she could advertise everything from toothpaste to management consultant courses.
Ugh. Libby wanted to tear the clip in her hair out. What had she been thinking? The red bow suddenly felt childish.
The photos of Elizabeth were on Henry’s dating app, and she noticed it was still live. There were several messages waiting to be read. She handed the phone back to him.
‘What about the women messaging you here? What about asking one of them?’
He shook his head. ‘I’ve never met them before and they don’t have your skillset.’
