‘Nina,’ he said, scrambling to his feet and reaching for her, but she shook him away. Angry with him. She had been in love with Ted for so long she had worn those feelings like a second skin. She had accepted it, grown a third skin that buttoned her feelings down. He couldn’t strip that away.

And yet a tiny part of her was saying, you’ve always loved Ted, Nina. Maybe this is your shot at happiness? Your only shot.

No. No, no, no. When will you accept it? she thought to herself bitterly. When they’re at the altar?

It was a fairy tale, her and Ted. It was never meant to be, because if it were, it would have happened, wouldn’t it? If she had a big family like Alice, and money, and connections, then perhaps things could be different. She thought of the way he had appraised Sylvie’s apartment earlier, contrasted it to his awkwardness in her house in Mile End after le Bal. Things she had always tried to deny bubbled to the surface. ‘It could never have been me. I’ve never belonged to the right club or holidayed in the right places, have I?’

‘What are you talking about?’ he said, aghast. ‘That was never… It was you. From the moment we met. The digs about me, the teasing. You always made it clear—’

‘I wasn’t good enough for you.’ They said the words in unison, holding their anger in clenched jaws and tight lips, arms rigid by their sides, their indignation matched.

‘What—?’

‘But you always said—’

‘—It was just a casual thing—’

They were each betrayed by their mouths smirking.

The tension broke, their repetition at once amusing and a sign of what they’d both missed out on. They had each made the same assumption about the other. They’d both let the other slip from their grasp.

‘You said that day on the bench, you said it had to just be casual because you were going away travelling.’

‘You said it was just a casual thing,’ Ted said, ‘you were always so aloof. I never knew what you were thinking…’ Ted trailed off as they came to the same realisation: it didn’t matter, because he was marrying Alice tomorrow.

Nina knew it was done but she needed to know more. She needed to understand so she could get closure. ‘How were you not good enough for me?’ she asked quietly.

‘Too arrogant. Too entitled. Too—’

‘I didn’t say those things.’

‘I think you say them sometimes without even realising it. The sneers about my gap yah. The eye-rolling whenever I mentioned Exeter. Full of posh pricks, you said once. I thought I wasn’t cool enough for you. Not edgy enough.’ He grinned tentatively and reached out to touch her hand.

‘Well, that’s probably true.’ She smiled, allowing him to clasp her hand in his, the touch as sweet and sharp as rhubarb, but she felt guarded. Why had he never tried to kiss her since that last time in London? Never told her how he felt?