Page 91 of The Last Night in London

When she reached her room, she kicked off her heels, sat down on her bed, and opened her purse, needing to see Graham’s handwriting, to read his words. But when she peered inside, the letter was gone.

CHAPTER 26

LONDON

MAY 2019

I sat next to Arabella on a crowded Jubilee Line tube carriage, our impressive collection of shopping bags tucked behind our legs, and I tried hard not to look like a tourist. I wasn’t wearing a fanny pack, which put me ahead of the game, and I was traveling with a bona fide Brit, but she said my face shouted “American.” She thought it had something to do with my perpetual tan and my straight white teeth, courtesy of fluoride in the water and three years in braces.

Arabella was tapping away on her cell phone, a result of being out of the office for an entire day, but I didn’t feel guilty since our shopping expedition had been her idea.

She looked up. “When is your lunch with the historian at the London College of Fashion? I’d like to join you. I’ll have Mia clear my schedule.”

“Tuesday at eleven thirty.”

Arabella nodded, then went back to tapping. The sudden sound of the theme song fromGone With the Winderupted, strident enough to be heard over the sound of the train wheels on the metal tracks. I glanced around, realizing that people were looking at my purse on my lap. Arabella elbowed me. “I believe that’s yours.”

I fumbled for my phone, yanked it out, and hit “decline” when Isaw it was Knoxie.On train. Can’t talk right now.I usually kept my ringer off, which was why I hadn’t been aware my brother had changed that ringtone, too.

It’s Aunt Cassie—my phone is dead and I’m borrowing your sister’s. When are you coming home? Maid of honor is supposed to organize bridal shower.

I resisted rolling my eyes.I don’t know. Pick a date and book the Dixie Diner. If I’m not there, Knoxie will know what to do. She’s always been bossy.

Two photos appeared on my screen, of iced confections that made my mouth water. A text from my aunt followed.Chocolate or vanilla charm cakes? Or both?

“What’s a charm cake?”

I turned to see Arabella unabashedly looking over my shoulder.

“It’s a Southern wedding thing. They’re little pastries with charms attached to a ribbon hiding inside. Each of the bridesmaids pulls one out to discover her fate.” I thought for a moment, trying to recall the meanings from when I’d been Suzanne’s maid of honor at my dad’s wedding. “Let’s see.... The anchor charm means a stable life. The ring means marriage, and the airplane means travel and adventure.”

“Sounds like a Southern version of a fortune cookie.”

“Pretty much,” I said, turning back to my phone as it buzzed again.

I’m thinking both.

Great. Sounds like you’ve got it all under control.

Lucinda wants to throw a lingerie shower at Lucinda’s Lingerie. I said I liked the idea if she didn’t mind punch and icing being near all that lace and polyester.

All fine with me.

I started to return my phone to my purse when it buzzed again.It sounds like you’re not taking your position as MOH seriously.

I held my thumbs over my phone, trying to think of a way to remind her why I didn’t want my visit to Walton to be too prolonged. Before I could type the first letter, my phone buzzed again.

How are things with Colin? Tell him I’ve earmarked the guest room at my house for him for the wedding. It’s over the back porch, so easy to access from the trellis. I recall you’re good at climbing it.

I pressed the “power” button on the side of my phone, shutting it off, then threw it into my purse.

“Does Colin know he’s invited to the wedding?” Arabella asked, unashamed.

“No, because he’s not. I have no idea why my aunt thinks he might be.”

“Maybe she just has an aunt’s intuition. The sparks practically zoom off you two when you’re together.”

“Or it’s wishful thinking.”