“Question three!” Nico exclaims. “Now the competition heats up!”
By question eight we’ve covered season one, season two, and the Christmas special. Melissa and Matt are ten points behind, and Melissa’s looking more and more tetchy.
“This can’t be true,” she says, as Ben finishes describing our “most memorable day together,” which involved an armed siege, a police chase through the Central Park Zoo, and blowing out the candles on his birthday cake in a jail cell (long story). “I dispute these answers.” She raps on the microphone as though it’s a gavel and she’s a judge. “Nobody has a life like this!”
“Dirk and Sally do!” I say, trying not to giggle as I meet Ben’s eye.
“Who’re Dirk and Sally?” she demands at once, looking from face to face as though we’re tricking her in some new way.
“Our pet names for each other,” says Ben blandly. “And may I ask what exactly you’re suggesting? That we learned an entire set of fake answers especially for this competition? Do we look like tragic losers?”
“Come on!” Her eyes spark indignantly. “Are you telling me your first date was really at a mortuary?”
“Are you telling me yours was really at the Ivy?” he counters at once. “No one goes to the Ivy for a first date unless they already know they’ll be so bored they’ll need to do some people-watching. Sorry,” he adds politely to Matt. “I’m sure you had a great time.”
I can’t stop laughing. Melissa’s getting crosser and crosser, and I don’t blame her. More and more people have joined the audience, and they’re loving it too.
“Question nine!” Nico tries to get control of the situation. “Where is the most unusual place you have had … amorous relations? Couple Two, would you like to answer first?”
“Well!” Carol is growing pinker and pinker. “I wasn’t sure about this question. Very personal.”
“Indeed,” says Nico sympathetically.
“I believe the correct word is …” She pauses, wriggling awkwardly. “Fellatio.”
There’s an explosion of laughter from the audience, and I clamp my lips together so that I don’t join in. Carol gave Tim a blow job? No way. I cannot imagine that in a million years.
“Your husband put A cottage in Anglesey,” says Nico, grinning widely. “Zero points, I am afraid, dear lady. Although full marks for trying.”
Carol looks as though she wants to spontaneously combust.
“By ‘place,’ ” she begins, “I thought you meant … I thought …”
“Indeed.” He nods sympathetically. “Couple One?”
“Hyde Park,” says Melissa promptly, as though she’s a child in class.
“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!