‘Well … that’s not for me to say.’

I groan loudly, and he laughs again, his blue eyes sparkling. ‘You’ll figure it out,’ he says. ‘Just give it time. And speaking of time … I’m afraid ours is up.’

He taps his watch and glances behind me.

I turn to see Alice approaching, and as I turn back, the watch-seller is delivering an enthusiastic sales pitch to a passing couple in what sounds like perfect French.

I slip the snow globe into my jacket pocket just as Alice reaches my side.

‘Sorry about that,’ she sighs, dropping her phone back into her bag. ‘My boss won’t even leave me alone on bloody Christmas Day. I’m the only one in the office next week, so there’s tons to do. Anyway …’

She loops her arm through mine, just like she did all those years ago when we were heading to the maze. The watch-seller breaks out of his sales pitch to shoot me one last crumpled, twinkly grin.

‘Come on, then,’ Alice says. ‘We’re going to be late for our next stop.’

Chapter Twenty-Eight

We are late.

We arrive at the tiny Champo cinema on Rue des Écoles almost ten minutes after the film has started. We edge our way down the aisle towards the only free seats, muttering ‘Excusez-moi’ and ‘Je suis desolé’ at the disgruntled people standing up for us.

The cinema screen is lined with tinsel, and it’s showing the same film we saw first time round: a schlocky Christmas romcom called The Holiday, starring Cameron Diaz. As we sit down, I remember that it’s dubbed into French, so I’m expecting to pick up exactly as little of it as I did originally.

‘Shit, sorry, I thought it was subtitled,’ Alice whispers. She nudges my elbow. ‘Good practice for your French, though, right?’

‘Yeah, exactly. No worries.’

I sit there in the darkness watching Jude Law gabble incomprehensibly in someone else’s voice, my hand almost touching Alice’s on the armrest. I remember so clearly how excited I felt at this moment the first time around. It wasn’t only the mystery agenda; it was also the fact that this was starting to feel like a proper date, rather than two old friends spending Christmas together because they didn’t have anyone else.

The difference this time, though, is that Daphne and I aren’t on a break. We’re married. We might be in a bad place in 2020, but we’re still together. Did I think about her at this moment originally? I must have done, surely. She’s out there, in New York, at this very instant. I wonder if she’s thinking about me too.

Alice interrupts this train of thought by nudging my arm. ‘Are you following what’s going on?’ she whispers.

‘Yeah, yeah. Totally.’