'Oh, right, yes,' Jan said, checking the time. 'I did tell Tom I wouldn't be long. I'll see you ladies later.' She kissed them both goodbye. 'I'll drop her back at six,' she told Anna.

When Jan and Bella had left the cafe, Imogen resumed her story.

'G.o.d, she's never going to believe I've got a proper job, is she?' she said to Anna, laughing. 'Anyway, as I was saying . . . Lauren's been great about letting me use the stuff at her studio.'

'Listen, before you disappear off again, to Lauren's, or wherever else is next on your agenda, how do you and Finn fancy coming around for dinner on Sunday night?' Anna asked.

'So we can whisper over gla.s.ses of wine in your front room, trying not to wake Bella up?' Imogen said, raising an eyebrow. 'On Valentine's Day?'

Anna bit her lip. 'Ha! Oops! I completely forgot . . . Well, I totally understand if you two have something more romantic to do.'

'Of course we don't,' Imogen said. 'It'd be fun to hang out with you. Seven thirty?'

'Perfect. It's a date,' Anna said.

Matteo pa.s.sed Anna, carrying a plate, smiling h.e.l.lo to Imogen and pointing out of the window at a crowd of tourists approaching the shop. 'It looks like it's about to get busy,' he said.

'He's right,' she said to her sister. 'I'd better get back to work.'

'And there you were, worrying about a quiet winter season.'

'I know. It's been the opposite, thankfully,' Anna said. 'Our only issue is keeping up.' Anna took a second to retie her chestnut hair in a ponytail. 'Does that look OK?'

Imogen smiled. 'Yes. Just one thing.' She reached up and wiped a finger by Anna's mouth. 'Chocolate sauce.'

'Ha! Thanks. No idea how long I had that there.' Anna laughed. 'New recipe. I was quality-control testing with Matteo this morning.'

'At times like this, I almost miss working here,' Imogen said.

Chapter 2.

In the dim red light of Lauren's darkroom, Imogen stood back to look at her freshly developed photos from Zanzibar. For now, she had to imagine the colours she could still recall the lushest greens and brightest citrus tones but, from what she could see, they had turned out really well.

Getting away had re-energised her, as it always did, bringing inspiration and igniting her adventurous spirit. And now, back in England, the flowers and animals she'd seen were coming to life again.

She rarely missed Finn when she went away, or when she did it was only fleetingly her trips were so short, and she kept herself so busy that she barely had time to. But, when she'd come back to find him waiting for her in the arrivals hall at Gatwick, her heart had lifted. Kissing him, chatting on the way home in the car, and catching up on what they had both been up to, she'd felt a piece of her slip back into place. Her phone buzzed with a new message.

'Surf at sunset? x'.

His message made her smile. She tapped back a reply.

'See you at 4.30 down at the arches x'.

Imogen went out into the studio, skirting quietly past the shoot Lauren was doing of a young couple with their Pekinese dog.

It was great, Imogen thought, that Lauren, a schoolfriend she'd recently reconnected with, had her own studio now, and that she got so much session work even more so that she enjoyed it. Just the thought of days spent cooped up indoors snapping photos of newborns and pets made Imogen feel stifled. All of those staged scenes and uncooperative children and canines rather Lauren than her. After struggling at school, and a long search for work after college, Imogen was finally getting the kind of work she was most pa.s.sionate about.

That afternoon, after she left Lauren's studio in the north laines, Imogen walked down to the arches for the second time that day. This time she pa.s.sed Vivien's and carried on walking, past the souvenir shop run by their grandmother's friend Evie, and on to Finn's surf school. Inside, Finn was closing up with his friend and business partner Andy.

'Hey, Andy,' Imogen called out.

'The traveller returns,' Andy said, brightly.

Imogen kissed Finn h.e.l.lo.

'He's missed you loads, you know,' Andy teased.

'Ahh,' she said, turning to her boyfriend. 'Is that true?'

'Don't believe a word of it,' Finn said.

'He was unbearable, moping around the place,' Andy said.

'So, you all set?' Finn asked, throwing his friend a stern look.

'Ready.' Imogen nodded.

She looked at the boxes of surf equipment that were filling up the room Finn and Andy used for tuition, before they took the students out. 'You're kind of outgrowing this place, aren't you?'

'That's what we were just talking about,' Andy said. 'We've had a lot of demand from students to sell boards and equipment, but we just haven't got the s.p.a.ce for it here.'

'Victims of your own success,' she said warmly.

Imogen and Finn left, and headed over to his van.

'Maybe you should think about expanding,' Imogen said, looking back at the shop. Finn had set the surf school up a decade before, when he was in his mid-twenties and long before he'd met Imogen, and in the past couple of years business had really picked up. The surf school was located a couple of doors away from Vivien's Heavenly Ice Cream Shop, in one of the arches on the seafront in Hove, a stretch of shops and cafes with a warm, friendly atmosphere. The shop owners Anna and Matteo, Finn, Evie, who ran the souvenir shop, and an a.s.sortment of others regularly met up and helped each other out. They would bring each other hot drinks and snacks and stop by to chat. In the summer the place really came to life, with parties on the bandstand, barbecues and fundraising fairs for local charities the community spirit that Vivien and Evie had invested so much in over the years was still going strong.

'If we did expand, where would we go, though?' Finn said. 'I wouldn't want to move, but everyone here at the arches has settled in for good.'

'There must be somewhere,' Imogen said, mulling it over.

They got into the van, and Finn drove down the main coastal road out of town. As the hazy winter sun lowered in the sky, they headed towards their regular beach, a secluded cove a half-hour outside town.

She looked out of the window at the sandy cove they were approaching. 'We're going to be the only ones out there today. Perfect.'

Finn parked and she leaped out of the pa.s.senger-side door. Together they got their surfboards down from the roof of the van, then slipped on their wetsuits.

'Race you,' Imogen called out, already running with her board. Finn caught up with her as they hit the waves and brought her down into the water. She emerged from the surf spluttering and laughing. 'Get out there, then, and let's see what you can do.'

Finn paddled far out into the sea, but Imogen stayed closer to the sh.o.r.e, and stopped and waited for the right wave to come. She wasn't tempted to compete Finn had been surfing since he was a kid and she had only been doing it for a couple of years, since she'd met him. She was content that she was no longer learning from him he'd taught her the basics but after that she'd taught herself, responding to the ocean's ebbs and flows, guided by nature, the ocean something she knew well from diving. Going deep underwater, diving and taking photos of the sea life and coral, had once been her only way of experiencing the sea and down there she was the one taking the lead, showing Finn the way.

She dipped her head underwater until her face, neck and hair were totally immersed, the freshness of the water waking her senses. Finn was just a dot in the distance. She took in a lungful of sea air and caught a wave, popping up to her feet swiftly and skilfully. She rode into sh.o.r.e, barely feeling the cold air as she was caught up in the buzz of it. Knowing Finn was out there, somewhere, thinking of her, made her feel she was capable of anything.

She'd met him back when she was running Vivien's, and after a summer of working alongside each other in the arches at points harmoniously, others less so they had found their way together at a party there. Imogen hadn't been looking for a relationship she'd been burned by the way things had turned out with her ex, Luca but being with Finn had just happened. When they first kissed, on a quiet spot on the beach, she'd felt a rush of excitement, but she'd also felt torn. She hadn't wanted to stay back in Brighton when there was so much of the world still to explore. When the time came for them to make a decision, she'd persuaded him to come back to Thailand with her, giving him a career break, and her opportunity to put her photography project together.

The time in New York, where a friend, who'd become her agent, had arranged an exhibition for her, had changed Imogen's life. It was in those humid summer days in the city that her dream of becoming a professional photographer had finally become reality and the offers for her work had come in. After the years that she'd struggled at school, her visual memory and different way of seeing the world holding her back, those same things were now taking her further than she'd ever dreamed possible.

When they had got back home to Brighton, and moved into Finn's house together, she'd worked hard to keep up with the contacts she'd made. She'd decided to part ways with her agent and go it alone. Things seemed to be working out, with plenty of initial requests for new projects, most of them abroad. That was the way she wanted it. As much as she liked Brighton, when she was away from home good things happened to her. It had always been that way.

When Finn came up onto the sh.o.r.e, his usually warm skin tone was pale, his lips turning blue. She kissed him in an attempt to warm them. Both of them were shivering.

'Pub?' Imogen said. 'I think we need to warm up.'

'Great idea.'

Half an hour later, Imogen and Finn walked into the Rose, their local pub, lively with chatter from the locals as the weekly quiz started up. Finn and Imogen greeted the bartender and a few of their neighbours, then took a seat in a cosy booth with wooden seats and original frosted-gla.s.s panelling, away from the noise.

The feeling was slowly returning to Imogen's chilled hands and feet.

'It was great out there today,' she said. 'I love it when there's no one else out there but us.'

'It was so peaceful today. And being with you beats saving a group of beginners from drowning, that's for sure,' he said. 'It's good to have you back.' He put his arms around her and brought her towards him for a kiss. She kissed him back.

'Oh, I meant to ask you,' Imogen said. 'OK if we go round to Anna and Matteo's for dinner this Sunday night?'

'Sure,' he said. He paused. 'Hang on, isn't that Valentine's?'

'Yes, but . . . I mean it's just like any other day really, right?' Imogen said.

'I guess,' he said. 'If you're fine with it, I'm fine with it. It'll be good to see her and Matteo.'

'Great. Because I kind of already said yes.'

He laughed. 'Right. Any other arrangements you want to let me know about?'

'Nope. Although hopefully there will be soon. I'm meeting with that author, Sally, about the Amazon trip next week.'

'The pink-dolphin lady?'

'Yes. Two years studying them it's amazing how much she knows, and she's been working on this book the whole time. She's been looking for the right photographer to go with her out to the Amazon on her final research trip.'

'Didn't she take photos of her own out there?'

'The publishers weren't sure about the quality of them, and by the sounds of things, they're going in big on the book. They want it to be their lead t.i.tle for next year, so she seemed confident that there'd be a budget to send me out there.'

'Sounds great,' Finn said. 'For how long?'

'I don't know weeks, months maybe?' Imogen said, picturing it. 'She'll be able to tell me more when we meet.'

'Right, so you're going to be sunning yourself in South America while I'm braving the wintry English Channel with beginner surfers in wetsuits.'

'I'll be back soon to tell you all about it,' Imogen said brightly, landing a kiss on Finn's mouth. 'And I'll make sure I send a postcard.'

That Sunday night, Imogen and Finn were at Anna and Matteo's for dinner, with warming, home-cooked Italian food and good red wine on the table between them.

'Great pasta, Anna,' Imogen said, twirling more of the tagliatelle around her fork.

'Thank you,' Anna said. 'I'm getting the hang of the pasta machine Matteo got me for my birthday. It's a bit fiddly but I think it's worth it.'

'Look at you, making everything from scratch,' Imogen said, laughing. 'Will you just stop? I can still barely cook an egg.'

'Oh, come off it! You're a good cook these days,' Anna said.

'Is she?' Finn said, with a mischievous smile.

'Finn does most of the cooking at ours,' Imogen admitted.

'And you . . .?' Anna asked.

'I provide the entertainment,' Imogen said.

'Pretty much what happened back at home when we were growing up, then,' Anna said, laughing.

'You seen Mum and Dad lately?' Imogen asked.

'Yes, we dropped in to see them at Elderberry Avenue last night.'

'How are things going over there?'

'Good, I think,' Anna said. 'It's still a bit chaotic in there, with the decorating, but they're making progress. Martin's plan is to open it at the end of March, so they've got just over a month to get things sorted.'

The house in Elderberry Avenue had always been a place where people felt welcome. Vivien had a habit of taking in friends, old and new, and letting them stay for a while. She had been generous by nature and, after the death of her husband, had valued the company.

'Has Dad been round much?' Imogen asked.

'I'm not sure how much Dad is really helping, to be honest,' Anna replied. 'He's making sculptures for the front garden, and helping make a bit of furniture, but I think there's a lot of daydreaming going on.'

'That's Dad for you,' Imogen said. 'It can't be easy for him seeing Granny V's house change. I hope it's not setting him back, being around so many of Granny's things, watching as his old family home turns into something different.'

'I was wondering the same,' Anna said, her brow creased with concern. 'Mum said there are some rooms he hasn't even been in yet.'

'It'll be good, in the long term. For us all to have the guesthouse, for Dad to see the place move on. There's no going back to how things were, after all. I mean we all have memories, don't we?'

'Do you remember the slumber parties we'd have upstairs? Granny would pretend not to hear us.'

'But, when we opened the door at midnight, she'd have left us snacks there, so we could have a feast.' Imogen smiled at the memory.

'Dad and Martin must both have a million memories like that,' Anna said. 'They grew up there as kids, as teenagers. Dad bought his first motorbike when he was living there. But the only way to keep those memories alive is to keep the place alive, full of people, love, laughter.'

'Hopefully, Dad'll get used to things in time,' Imogen said. 'But, if he still seems resistant, I'll talk to him. Has Mum said anything?'