11
Wolfgang hardly slept that night. His brain kept going over and over what he was going to say to Audrey, obsessing about it, worrying she would reject him outright, do a Naomi Weston on him – Are you kidding? – or even laugh. And then it took him until four-thirty in the afternoon to build up the courage to finally approach her and blurt out the proposal that over the past twenty-two hours had become a mantra inside his head.
‘Audrey, I’ve got the day off tomorrow. Would you like to go to the zoo?’
‘Okay,’ she said from under her hat.
Wolfgang smiled at Campbell – a victory smile – and the dog wagged its tail as if it understood. ‘Well, that’s great then,’ Wolfgang said. ‘I thought we’d catch the seven o’clock train, if that isn’t too early? That’d get us there by about ten. And then we could –’
Audrey lifted her hat to one side. Her face was pale and pillowy, her expression vague. She removed both her earpieces. ‘Hang on a minute. Did you say zoo?’
‘Y-yes,’ Wolfgang answered, steeling himself for the disappointment he’d been expecting all along. She hadn’t heard him correctly the first time. The zoo was a stupid idea. ‘But if you’d like to go somewhere else ...’
‘No, the zoo sounds excellent.’
‘Are you sure? We don’t have to go there.’
Audrey laughed.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘You. Taking me to the zoo.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, blushing.
‘You say sorry a lot.’ Audrey sat up and smiled. She looked younger when she smiled – closer to his own age.
‘I want to smell a lion,’ she said.