Chapter 39
Michael and I arrive at yet another pub. But this one doesn’t have wood paneling, dark furniture or stained beer mats. In fact it feels light and fresh. I didn’t know they made pubs this way.
He places me in the center of the table, clearly where I belong, with a view to the river, framed by white and blue checked curtains. As he removes his jacket, a woman approaches. “Samantha, thank you for coming,” he says. They exchange a kiss on the left cheek, then the right.
“What a great spot,” Samantha says, her hair hooked behind her ears. The mole to the right of her mouth moves as she speaks.
“Hammersmith is our bit of calm in the city.”
Samantha’s eyes find me and travel down my cover. I like her already. “So this is it? The Serendipity of Snow.”
Michael nods. “I’ll get us a
