When Steph Vizard hooked up with Hugh during a trip back home, it was like living inside a romantic comedy. But could they have a happy ending? I met Hugh in during my summer of fun β when nothing serious was meant to happen. I was 23 and had just finished my literature degree in England. I had returned home to Melbourne for three months to apply for the work visa I needed to start my first grown-up job in London. I was asked by a local lifestyle publication to write an article on the best dumplings in Melbourne.
Panicked, I asked my friends to recommend their favourite local dumpling spots. The next week Milly and I caught the train into the city. Over a few bottles of red wine I discovered I liked both dumplings and the person sitting opposite me. Here was someone with a razor-sharp brain who noticed the absurdities of every situation, making us laugh with stories about his zany housemates. A few hours later Milly went home and I asked Hugh if he wanted to crash in the guest room. It still housed the wooden rocking horse me and my siblings had played on as children.
As I said goodnight to Hugh, I climbed atop the horse with its faded paint and thinned-out mane. He laughed and our eyes met. Then Hugh crossed the room, leaned down and kissed me.
He noticed my bookshelves were crammed with romantic comedies and left a new novel by my favourite author, Catherine Alliott, on my bedside table with a note inside the cover and handwritten comments throughout that made me laugh. Hugh took my eccentric family in his stride and won over my mum by taking the family dog on his runs. And we realised we were a good team β Hugh treated every task as if he were painting the Sistine Chapel whereas I could start and not finish most things.
As summer drew to a close, our days together took on an urgency and intensity. We began to dance around the idea that what was happening between us was more than a summer fling but we avoided discussing the true depth of our feelings.
