"You've had a call," she said, holding out the phone to him.

"I'm too busy to take it right now," he said, almost smiling again.

"Yes, but it looks important. I think you should take it."

As he reached for the phone and saw the screen, his mouth set into a hard line. He stabbed the off button and glared up at Lucy.

"Won't your mate be expecting an answer?" she said quietly.

"Fuck him."

Tossing the phone onto the sofa, he stepped forward and gripped her arms with his hands. Lucy flinched but stood firm.

"Things don't have to be over, Lucy. We've made a mess of things, but I think there's a way forward for both of us," he said soothingly.

Her skin prickled where his fingers pressed into her flesh. "Forward?"

"Yeah. Onward and upward. People will understand that you had a fling, that we've both made a mistake. They're desperate for us to get back together, don't you see? It's human nature to want a happy ending."

Lucy felt faintly sick, unable to believe what he was proposing. "You can't still want us to get married after all that's happened?"

"Why not? We had a blast together and you know how good the sex was. It wouldn't do either of us any harm. Your profile's high and so is mine. The door is still wide open. What is so wrong with making the most of your opportunities? Why do you have to take everything so seriously?"

The phone buzzed from the sofa and Nick glanced down at the screen. "Don't you want to answer that? It might be important," she cut in smoothly.

"No. You're more important."

"Nick, I'd like you to leave now."

"If you force me to walk away again you'll be making a big mistake."

"No. The only mistake I made was in ever letting you chase me down the street with that bagel. I should have carried on walking."

He shook his head as if she was a disobedient and rather dim child. "Oh dear, Lucy. I really like you, but you know what? I'm not so sure you'd fit in my world."

"I never wanted to fit into your world, Nick. I never want to fit into anyone's world except my own. And now, I think you really should get out."

Opening the door wide, she held it so that he could pass through. As he strode up the path toward the gate she half expected Josh to appear. If this was a TV drama, he would appear, and then there would be a fight for her honor.

"You really are mad. You won't get another chance," he called, flicking the remote on his car. The last she saw was him wrenching open the door, throwing his phone on the seat. Then he revved the engine and drove off, leaving a cloud of dust behind him.

No Josh had appeared. Lucy knew he was never going to fight for her again. But she wouldn't cry. She'd wasted too many tears over Nick, then some over Josh. She was still telling herself not to waste any tears at two in the morning when, watching another rerun of Brief Encounter on the old TV, they burst forth in great sobs and howls that soaked the cushion Fiona had bought specially for Hengist.

Chapter 33.

Six Months Later "Lucy, I'm just off to lunch. Can I get you anything?" Lucy glanced up from the media proposal on her desk and smiled at Lorna, her assistant, hovering by the door of their office.

"I wouldn't mind some soup and a sandwich, but only if it isn't out of your way."

"I'm going right past. It's no problem. Shouldn't you take a break yourself?"

Lucy shook her head. "Probably, but I want to make some changes to this proposal for Countryland Vacations."

"I can stay, you know. I'll just nip out for rations, then I'll come back and help."

"Thanks for the offer, but take a break and don't worry about me. I'm going out for dinner tonight, so I can't stay too late."

Lorna raised her eyebrows. She opened her mouth then closed it before disappearing into the corridor. Lucy was amused. Lorna had only been working as her assistant for a few weeks, and Lucy could see that she was not quite sure whether she dared tease her boss yet. That was fine, thought Lucy, who had hardly got used to being boss to herself yet, let alone to anyone else.

When she'd first moved back to London from Cornwall the previous autumn, Able & Lawson had offered her her job back. She'd been touched but she'd said no. If there was one thing she'd learned after the events of the past year or so, it was that her independence meant more to her than almost anything. In fact, she'd decided that nothing would make her give it up now she'd tasted freedom. One of the campground resorts she'd worked for in Cornwall had given her their PR business and as a result of that, she'd picked up the account for the whole group. Clients were impressed by the fact that she'd had literal hands-on experience of the business, and after three months of running Gibson Marketing from her kitchen table, she'd picked up three more vacation accounts and some freelance bits and bobs from Able & Lawson. It was time to branch out and if that meant a tiny office above a podiatrist's in the suburbs, so be it. Finding Lorna, an ex PR wanting a part-time job, had been a huge stroke of luck but Lucy thought she deserved a little luck right now.

By six thirty, Lorna was still doggedly researching prospects on the web and Lucy's hand was beginning to ache from gripping the mouse. It was also freezing: the central heating in the office had already been switched off by the landlord, even though it was barely March.

"Time to call it a day, I think," said Lucy, noticing Lorna's red eyes and blue fingers.

"Are you sure? I only have a few more possibles on the list."

"It's Friday night. It's minus two in here, and I'm sure you must have more interesting places to be than here."

Lorna's face went slightly pink.

"I can see you do," said Lucy.

"It's a guy I met at a day care, actually," said Lorna. "My mum's offered to babysit for Chloe so we can go for a meal together. To be honest, I haven't been out with a guy for nearly a year and I'm as nervous as hell. What will we talk about? Toilet training? Who's shagging who in the Teletubbies?"

"Why don't you tell him how you helped your firm win the Countryland Vacations account? On second thought... just get out of here-and that's an order from the boss."

Five minutes later, the computer screens were dark. Lucy locked up the office and followed Lorna out into the street. Wrapping her scarf tighter around her neck, she waited as Lorna pulled on woolly gloves.

"Good night, Lorna, and thanks for staying late. Hope your date with Mr. Mum goes well."

"No problem. Have a good evening and er..." Lorna hesitated then added slyly, "enjoy your date too. You look great."

"See you Monday," said Lucy, smiling yet feeling suddenly overwhelmed with nerves. There was still time to back out of tonight's encounter, she told herself as Lorna headed in the opposite direction, leaving her alone in the shadows. There was still time to save herself from the pain, the awkwardness of the meeting she'd agreed to. No, she told herself as she gripped her briefcase. Been there, done that. She didn't run away anymore.

She made her way toward the Tube station, surfacing twenty minutes later onto a quiet side street where the door to a bistro beckoned, its lights glowing. She stopped and took in a lungful of the cool night air. Would he be there? she wondered, or had he got cold feet like she almost had?

Would he be bearing gifts? Flowers? Chocolates? An explanation? Suddenly, a whole field of butterflies took flight in her stomach. All she really wanted was his presence.

She was greeted at the door by a wave of warm air and a smiling waitress who asked her if she'd made a reservation.

"Table for two. I've reserved. It's in the name of Gibson," said Lucy.

"Oh, yes," replied the waitress, checking the list for the name. "Your guest's already here."

He was sitting at a little table over in the corner, his face half in shadow and half in flickering candlelight. He hadn't noticed Lucy yet and she could see from across the room that he was empty-handed, apart from the table napkin he was twisting in his hand. As she drew nearer, he glanced up and his face was such a mixture of guilt and hope that Lucy had to dig her nails in her palms. He looked so different in his smart suit.

It was almost comical how restrained they both were while the waitress was still fussing around taking drink orders. His polite peck on the cheek, her muttered hello-anyone would think they were business acquaintances. Yet inside, Lucy sensed he was going through the same turmoil of expectation as she was.

Finally, the waitress left them.

"I didn't know you drank gin and tonic. That was your mum's favorite," said her father.

"Gin? Did I say that? God, I meant to order a vodka and tonic."

"I can't remember what I ordered either."

"Half a lager."

"Bugger. I could really do with a pint."

Lucy started to get up. "They don't serve draught, but I can try and get the waitress to change it..."

Her father laid his hand on her arm. "No, Lucy, pet. Leave it be."

At the sound of that endearment, she knew she couldn't take any more. "Dad, I'm sorry. I need the loo."

Ten minutes later, she was trying to reapply her mascara with a shaky hand, wondering why they'd plumped for such a public reunion. They hadn't even spoken yet and already she was worried about making a fool of herself in this smart bistro. Maybe they should have met at her flat, but she'd wanted this first encounter to be on neutral territory. She made it back to the table and, some time later, as the waitress cleared away their uneaten steaks, she had the chance to get a good look at her father. She wondered how he felt, seeing her as a woman for the first time, rather than as a teenager. An angry, bitter teenager.

"You look like you're doing well for yourself," he said as they sat over a coffee. "But I always knew you would. Where are you working?"

"I run my own marketing business, specializing in the vacation trade. It's nothing grand but I like it."

"Sounds good to me," said her dad and the pride in his eyes made her feel light-headed. It was what she'd once craved, what she shouldn't long for: his approval and approbation. Realizing she still cared so much about what he thought was scary.

She allowed herself a small smile. "I love working for myself. There's risk but I like that. Having no one to answer to."

He nodded. "And no one to turn to if things go wrong. You know you're really living when you set up on your own."

"That's it. Exactly," she said, surprised that he understood so well.

"I've got my own business too. It's nothing so glamorous as yours, of course, just a small builders' merchants," he said.

"So you don't work for Hudsons anymore?"

"Oh Lord, no. They went out of business years ago. I worked for a couple of other firms after that before I decided to have a go myself. Take control of my own destiny and all that."

"Yes, I know what you mean."

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. He had deep brown eyes and he was still a good-looking man, despite the gray hairs. He was still her dad, the man she'd once been proud to have pick her up at the school gates, the man her mum had fallen in love with and then out of again.

An awkward silence was broken by the waitress asking if they'd finished and both Lucy and her father refusing the dessert menu.

"I agonized for months over whether to try and contact you again. I saw all that terrible stuff in the newspapers. Those parasites made me want to punch their lights out but I thought that if I joined in, I'd only make things worse or you'd think I wanted to jump on the bandwagon."

Lucy was going to tell him not to be silly but realized he was probably right.

"I phoned your mum, you know," he said out of the blue.

Lucy fiddled with her teaspoon, trying not to feel defensive over her mum. "What did she say?" she asked carefully.

"Well, she didn't slam the phone down, which was a start. She told me you'd gone off to the seaside for a while to sort yourself out but that you were back now."

"Have you seen her?"

"I didn't ask, Lucy. I think we're way past reconciliation. She's got her life and I've got mine. I heard a man's voice in the background. Scottish, I think..."

"Hmm. That was probably Big Kev from the gardening club."

"Lives there, does he?" asked her dad.

"Not officially, but he doesn't seem to go home much."

"She deserves to be happy."

"Yes," said Lucy, draining her drink and feeling uncomfortable. "Are you with anyone?" she asked.

Her father gave a wry smile. "I was. A woman from work, actually, but I've just been passed over for one of our suppliers. He's got two things I haven't: a villa in Tenerife and a clean license as far as his reputation goes."

Lucy wondered whether or not to say she was sorry he was alone, but she wasn't quite ready to be that generous. Not yet. "What about you? Has there been anyone else since that Nick bloke?"

She felt her body stiffen. That was one thing that time hadn't healed: the raw wounds left by Josh. She still thought of him every day. Every time she had to write about Cornwall, or cottages, or even the seaside in general. Every time Fiona arrived with Hengist. When she woke up in the morning and last thing at night when she went to sleep. How long would it take for him to disappear from her world? Would he ever?

"I'm too busy with the business. I don't need a man to complicate things."

"No, I shouldn't think you do. We're nothing but trouble, eh?"

Chapter 34.

"Lucy!"

Fiona bounded up the steps to the cinema where Lucy was waiting, stamping her feet to keep out the spring evening chill. Psycho: The Director's Cut wasn't really her thing but Fiona had an obsession with Hitchcock movies and afterward they were going on to a new club in Piccadilly, where Fi was "on the list." Lucy was aching for some escapism. The previous evening's reunion with her dad had left her drained and, though it was hard to admit, had also made her realize how much she still missed Josh.