“Correct! Ten points! Couple Three?”

I had to think about this one. There are a few options. I just hope Ben remembered the episode.

“The boardwalk at Coney Island.” As I look at Ben’s face, I know I got it wrong.

“Alas! Your husband wrote, On the district attorney’s desk.”

“The district attorney’s desk?” Melissa looks livid. “Are you kidding me?”

“Zero points!” Nico chimes in hurriedly. “And now we reach the climax of our quiz. All rests on the final question. The most personal, intimate question of all.” He pauses dramatically. “When did you first realize you were in love with your wife?”

An expectant hush comes over the audience, and there’s a low drumroll from the band.

“Couple Three?” says Nico.

“It was when we were tied together to a railroad track with a train approaching,” says Ben reminiscently. “She reached over, kissed me, and said, ‘If it ends here, I’ll be happy.’ And then she freed us both with her nail file.”

“Correct!”

“A railroad track?” Melissa looks from face to face. “Can I appeal that?”

I beam at Ben and raise my fist in a victory salute. But he doesn’t respond; his eyes are out of focus as though he’s still remembering.

“Couple Two?”

“Wait!” says Ben suddenly. “I haven’t finished my answer. That time on the railroad track—that’s when I realized I was in love with my wife. But the moment I realized I loved her …” He glances over at me with an unreadable look. “That was quite another time.”

“What’s the difference?” says Melissa petulantly. “Are you trying to wind us all up again?”

“You fall in and out of love,” says Ben. “But when you really love someone … it’s forever.”

Is that a line from the show? I don’t recognize it. I’m feeling a bit confused here. What’s he talking about?

“The day I realized I loved my wife was right here on the island of Ikonos, fifteen years ago.” He leans toward the microphone and his voice rises, now resonant. “I’d had the flu. She nursed me all night. She was my guardian angel. I still remember that sweet voice telling me I’d be OK. Now I realize I’ve loved her since that day, though I didn’t always know it.”

He finishes to silence. Everyone seems thunderstruck. Then a girl from the audience whoops appreciatively, and it’s as though the spell is broken, and applause breaks out, louder than ever.

I’m so gripped, I barely hear the others give their answers. He was talking about us. Not Dirk and Sally: us. Ben and Lottie. A warm glow has stolen over me, and I can’t stop smiling. He’s loved me for fifteen years. He’s stood up and said it in public. Nothing so romantic has ever happened to me, ever.

The only tiny, minuscule niggle is …

Well. Just a teeny point, which is that I still don’t remember it happening. My mind is blank. I don’t remember Ben having the flu, nor do I remember nursing him. But, then, there’s a lot about that time I don’t remember, I reassure myself. I’d forgotten all about Big Bill. I’d forgotten about the poker tournament. It’s probably buried somewhere deep inside me.

“… you know it was on that picnic! You’ve always said so!”

Abruptly, I become aware that Melissa and Matt are still squabbling about his answer.

“It wasn’t on the picnic,” says Matt obstinately. “It was in the Cotswolds. But the way you’re carrying on, maybe I wish I hadn’t!”

Melissa takes a sharp breath, and I can practically see smoke puff from her ears.

“I think I know when we fell in love, Matt! And it wasn’t in the bloody Cotswolds!”

“Which brings us to the end of our contest!” Nico puts in deftly. “And I am delighted to say that our winners are Couple Three! Ben and Lottie Parr! You win a special open-air couple’s massage and will be awarded the Happy Couple of the Week trophy at our gala prize ceremony tomorrow evening. Congratulations!” He leads an uproarious round of applause, and Ben winks at me. We take a bow, and I feel Ben squeeze my hand tightly.

“I like the sound of this couple’s massage,” he says into my ear. “I read about it earlier. They do it on the beach in a special curtained arbor with essential oils. You get glasses of champagne, and after they’ve finished, they leave you alone for some ‘private time.’ ”

Private time? I meet his eyes. At last! Ben and I alone on a beach in our own private space, with the waves crashing on the shore and glasses of champagne and our bodies slick with oil …

“Let’s do it as soon as we can.” My voice is thick with longing.

“Tonight.” His hand lightly brushes against my breast, making me shiver with anticipation. I guess we’ve abandoned the no-touching rule. We bow again to the audience and then head down off the platform. “And now let’s go for a drink,” adds Ben. “I want to ply you with alcohol.”

Turns out there are advantages to having a butler. The minute we say that we want a celebratory drink, Georgios swings into action, securing us a corner table at the posh beach restaurant, complete with champagne on ice and special lobster canapés brought down from the main restaurant. For once I don’t mind the fuss and bother as the butlers dance around us. It feels right. We should be fussed over. We’re the champions!

“So!” says Ben when at last we’re left alone. “Good day, as it turns out.”

“Very good.” I grin back.

“Two hours till our massage.” He meets my eyes, and his mouth twitches with a smile.

Two delicious hours of savoring the spectacular beach sexathon which is to come. I can cope with that. I sip my champagne and lean back, feeling the sun on my face. Life is just about perfect right now. There’s only the tiniest strain in my thoughts, which I’m trying to ignore. I can ignore it. Yes. I can.

No. I can’t.

As I sip my champagne and crunch salted almonds, I’m aware of a glitch in my mood. A weak point I keep trying to skate over. But I can’t fool myself. And I know it’s only going to worry me more, the longer I leave it.

I don’t know him. Not properly. He’s my husband and I don’t know him.

I mean, it’s fine that he votes differently from me—but the point is, I had no idea. I thought we’d covered so much ground over the last few days—but now I realize there are some gaping holes. What other surprises am I going to come across?

In recruitment, we ask the same basic question whenever we want to get to know our candidates quickly: “Where do you want to be in one year, five years, and ten years?” I’d have no idea what to put for Ben, and that can’t be right, surely?

“You’re very distant.” Ben touches my nose. “Earth to Lottie.”

“Where do you want to be in five years’ time?” I ask abruptly.

“Excellent question,” he says promptly. “Where do you want to be?”

“Don’t deflect.” I smile at him. “I want to know the Ben Parr official game plan.”

“Maybe I had an official game plan.” His eyes soften as they meet mine. “But maybe it’s changed now I’ve got you.”

I’m so disarmed by his expression that I feel my doubts melting away. He’s gazing at me with the most charming lopsided smile and a distant look to his eyes, as though he’s imagining our future together.

“I feel the same,” I can’t help blurting out. “I feel as though I’ve got a whole new future.”

“A future with you. Anywhere we like.” He spreads his hands. “What’s the dream, Lottie? Sell it to me.”

“France?” I say tentatively. “A farmhouse in France?” I’ve always fantasized about moving to France. “Maybe the Dordogne, or Provence? We could do up a house, find a real project.…”

“I love that idea.” Ben’s eyes are sparkling. “Find a wreck, turn it into something amazing, have friends to stay, long lazy meals—”

“Exactly!” My words tumble out, mingling with his. “We’d have a great big table and wonderful fresh food, and the children would help make the salad.…”

“They’d learn French too—”

“How many children do you want?”

My question halts the conversation for a moment. I’m holding my breath, I realize.

“As many as we can,” says Ben easily. “If they all look like you, I’ll have ten!”

“Maybe not ten.” I’m laughing in relief. We chime perfectly! My worries were unfounded! We’re totally on the same page when it comes to life choices. I almost want to get out my phone and start finding old French properties to drool over. “You really want to move to France?”

“If there’s one thing I want to do in the next two years, it’s settle myself down,” he says seriously. “Find a lifestyle I can love. And France is a passion of mine.”

“Do you speak French?”

He reaches for the paper dessert menu, produces a pencil, and scribbles a few lines on the back, then turns it to show me.

L’amour, c’est toi

La beaute, c’est toi

L’honneur, c’est toi

Lottie, c’est toi

I’m enchanted. No one’s ever written me a poem before. And certainly not in French.

“Thank you so much! I love it!” I read it through again, bring the paper right up to my face as though trying to inhale the words, then put it down.

“But what about your work?” I’m so desperate for this plan to come true now, I can’t help pressing him, just to make sure. “You couldn’t leave that.”

“I can dip in and out.”

I don’t even know quite what Ben’s work consists of. I mean, it’s a company which makes paper, obviously, but what does he do? I’m not sure he ever explained it properly, and it feels a bit late to ask.

“Have you got someone who could take the reins? What about Lorcan?” I remember Ben’s best friend. “He works with you, doesn’t he? Could he step in?”

“Oh, I’m sure he’d love to.” There’s a sudden bitter twist to Ben’s voice, and I take a mental step back.