Page 80 of Perfect Strangers

‘Seriously,’ she lamented. ‘If the last couple of days have any positives, it’s that I have come to realise that I haven’t really done anything with my life. I’m twenty-seven next month and I don’t have anything interesting to talk about, I haven’t really been anywhere off the beaten track, unless you include off-piste at Klosters. I don’t even do anything worth mentioning.’

She laughed ruefully. The truth was, Sophie was a nothing. She had led such a predictable middle-class life, she didn’t really know who she was.

‘You must do something,’ said Josh, his grey eyes glistening. ‘Catalogue modelling? International assassin?’

‘When I met Nick, I had just started a personal training business.’

‘There you go,’ said Josh. ‘And did you enjoy it?’

‘It was good to have a project and to start making some money.’

‘I asked if you enjoyed it?’

She reflected on it for a moment. It all seemed so long ago. She had enjoyed doing something she was good at and she had felt she was helping people – even if it was only getting pampered women into smaller and smaller bikinis.

‘I suppose it’s not exactly what I would choose to do in an ideal world.’

‘So what is?’

The waiter put two bowls of French onion soup in front of them. It had a thick crust of bread and stringy cheese floating across the oily surface. It smelled absolutely delicious.

Sophie stuck her spoon through the cheese, and smiled slowly. ‘You know, I’d love to live somewhere like this. Maybe not this place exactly but the place it’s pretending to be. A pretty village where I’m surrounded by creative people.’

‘And what would you do there? Make them all do squat thrusts?’

Sophie laughed.

‘No, I’d paint or write, I suppose. Or at least try to.’

Josh cocked his head.

‘So why don’t you?’

‘Well I did, sort of. I spent six months in Florence once. It was wonderful.’ She almost sighed at the memory. Maybe she was looking at it with rose-tinted spectacles, but it represented the one time in Sophie’s life when she had really felt alive. But that had been her old life, back when she had money. She hadn’t realised it at the time, but it wasn’t the money she’d liked. She had liked the experiences, the things money had allowed her to do: a really cold glass of wine at a beautiful beach café, a view over a stunning snowy mountain range, a ride in a speedboat over the bluest waters imaginable.

‘But you need money for those sorts of things. In the past year I haven’t had a whole lot of it.’

Josh gave a short laugh.

‘Bollocks,’ he said. ‘You could get a cheap flight to Pisa, catch a bus to Florence, then find a room somewhere. Maybe not a smart little apartment by Il Duomo, but just a cute place where some warm sunlight comes through your window. And if you like it? Stay. Find a job, be a waitress, bar-tend. Someone as beautiful as you could easily find work.’

Sophie felt herself blush. If anyone else had said it, she knew she would have thought it sounded foolish, even irresponsible, but Josh made it sound like a real adventure. When she had been dating Will or hanging out with Francesca – even that long week with Nick, if she was honest – she had always felt that you needed money for anything worthwhile: that idea that you got what you paid for. But Josh was different. In his version, it was as if having money could make you lose sight of what was really important, the things that really made you happy.

As if he had read her thoughts, he put down his spoon. ‘It’s a good feeling finding something you love,’ he said. ‘Especially if you might even be able to make a little money out of it. Like me. I really do love watches. I love finding an old Omega at an antique fair and getting it repaired, polished, brought back to life. And along the way, I get to talk to interesting, successful people, but mainly I just love the elegance and the minute intricacy of a timepiece, that’s what gets me up in the morning.’ He smiled, that cheeky, naughty smile. ‘Well, that and the chance of making a big profit without working too hard.’

Sophie bent over her soup, suddenly aware that Josh was watching her. What was he thinking? What did he see when he looked at her? Did he really think she was beautiful? Her blush deepened as she realised she wanted him to, because the truth was he was very sexy. Not good-looking in a smooth, movie-star kind of way like Nick, but everything about Josh crackled with naughtiness. And there was something else, a vulnerability beneath that brash facade that was maddeningly elusive.

‘We should go,’ said Sophie quickly, but Josh didn’t move.

‘Did you do it?’ he asked quietly.

‘Did I do what?’ She felt the colour drain from her face. ‘You mean Nick?’ It upset her that he could even ask the question.

He didn’t take his eyes off hers.

‘No, I did not kill Nick,’ she said, holding his gaze. Josh looked back at her for a long moment.

‘Okay,’ he said finally.