Love Is.... Haley Hill

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      Dominic clapped his hands together with the glee of a fisherman who had just felt a tug on his rod. ‘Excellent, Eleanor. That’s precisely what we were thinking too.’ He glanced down at his file and began flicking through the pages. Then he nodded and pushed the file across the table towards me. ‘You’ll find a comprehensive list of experts in there.’

      I opened it and glanced at the first page, which I immediately discovered was a fold-out world map.

      Dominic continued. ‘You’ll start in New York; that’s where most of the current research is being done. Using that as a base, you can travel to Long Island and Texas. Then, after that, you’ll move on to Iceland, then Tokyo—there’s some interesting research going on there—then Africa, and finally, you’ll end up back in Europe.’

      I leafed through the pages, noting every stop Dominic had listed on my protracted tour of the globe. I closed the file and shook my head.

      ‘I’m not leaving London,’ I said.

      The beginnings of a smirk crept out from the corners of his mouth. ‘But this is what you wanted, isn’t it, Eleanor? To find a cure for heartbreak?’

      I pushed the file back towards him.

      ‘What about Skype? I could easily speak to the experts on the phone. I don’t have to be there.’

      Dominic shrugged his shoulders. ‘Well, we think you do. That way you can witness and experience any interventions firsthand.’

      I screwed up my face. ‘I can’t be the researcher and the recipient.’

      Dominic grinned. ‘The investors think you can.’

      I stood up, ready to walk out. ‘Well, I’ll have to persuade them otherwise then, won’t I?’

      His smirk was at full capacity now. ‘They’ve decided to channel all available resources into the project. So, good luck with that.’

      That evening, I arrived home to find Nick in the kitchen, pan-frying tuna steaks. I could see he’d already prepared a salad and the table was set complete with a lit candle.

      ‘Evening, my gorgeous girl,’ he said, handing me a glass of wine.

      I leaned in towards him and rested my head on his shoulder. I knew we’d have to have a conversation about our childless future at some point, but for the time being, I wanted it to just be Nick and I again. Without any complications.

      Suddenly, my phone vibrated. It was a text from Victoria.

      Hurry up. You’re late

      I scrunched up my face, remembering a vague acceptance of a dinner invitation last week.

      ‘What is it?’ Nick asked, sipping some wine.

      I sighed. ‘We’re supposed to be having dinner at Victoria and Mike’s tonight.’

      Nick’s smile faded. He glanced at the tuna steaks and then at the candle burning and then back at me. ‘But I wanted a night with just us,’ he said.

      I leaned over and turned off the hob. ‘So did I,’ I said, ‘but we promised.’

      Nick let out a long sigh and then downed the rest of his wine.

      ‘Come on,’ I said, ‘we’d better get a move on, you know what she gets like if her scallops are overdone.’

      I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek and we made our way next door.

      We rang the doorbell twice before anyone answered, which, given Victoria’s domestic staffing levels, was quite unusual. There was a bit of a kerfuffle, some scratching at the door and what sounded like a tiny bird chirping, before eventually Olga, Victoria’s housekeeper, opened the door. A bundle of grey fluff rolled out onto the flagstone step. I bent down to pick it up. At first I couldn’t quite tell if the warm little body, with the fast-beating heart, was a cat or a rabbit or something else entirely, but when a pair of big blue eyes stared up at me, and the little tail started wagging, I realised it was…

      ‘A puppy?’ Nick asked, leaning in for a closer look.

      Olga ushered us in. ‘I take Rupert now,’ she said.

      ‘No, no, He’s fine with me,’ I said, looking down at his furry face and smiling.

      ‘Careful, he’s likely to pee all over you.’ Victoria strode towards us, looking uncharacteristically flustered. ‘At best.’

      ‘Oooh, I don’t mind,’ I said, cradling him in my arms. I nuzzled his fur with my face. He smelled like malt biscuits and freshly cut grass.

      Nick leaned in closer and stroked him on the tummy. ‘He’s a cute little chap, isn’t he?’

      Victoria smoothed down her ponytail. ‘We need to eat,’ she said. ‘Give the hound back to Olga. And make sure you wash your hands.’

      Mike didn’t join us until we were seated at the table and from his expression, he was as enthused about the dinner party as we were.

      Once Victoria had formally chastised us for being late and thereby being solely responsible for the asparagus’ limpness, she went on to explain Rupert’s arrival.

      ‘Camille’s therapist suggested we get her a pet.’ Victoria sniffed. ‘She said that given the high turnover of au pairs, it would provide a constant in her life.’ She flicked her ponytail and speared a piece of asparagus. ‘Dr Osbourne has been harping on for months now about maternal attachment. Clearly trying to promote that book she wrote. She’s been on the Lorraine show too.’ She took a sip of wine, then shook her head quickly as if to disperse the alcohol. ‘I was raised by sixteen different au pairs and it never did me any harm.’

      Nick started coughing. It looked as though a bit of asparagus had gone down the wrong way.

      Victoria glanced around for Olga, then tutted and topped up her own wine.

      ‘I mean, seriously, what does Dr Osbourne expect me to do?’ she continued, taking a sip. ‘Give up my entire life to bring up my daughter?’

      We all sat in silence. I swallowed the last mouthful of cold asparagus and then Mike stood up to pour us more wine.

      ‘But I bet Camille must love Rupert,’ I said, changing the subject. ‘He’s adorable.’

      Victoria sighed. ‘She’s allergic. She’s gone through two asthma inhalers since we collected him from the breeder.’

      There was a scratching sound along the floorboards, and suddenly Rupert skidded into the dining room, hotly pursued by Olga.

      ‘Rupert, Rupert, come!’ Olga shouted.

      Victoria scowled at Olga. ‘Quiet,’ she said, ‘we are entertaining.’

      ‘Sorry, Mrs Victoria,’ Olga said, then tried to grab Rupert, but he bypassed her hand and scooted under my chair.

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