'Why not? What you described to me none of that was because you're ill. All of it was because you all miss him.'

'But maybe I just miss him because I'm sick. I feel so vulnerable, Susannah. You've no idea how vulnerable.'

'Of course you do.'

'But that's not enough, is it? Just because in those moments I can't remember why I didn't want to be married to him any more, and just because I feel so alone those aren't good enough reasons, are they?'

'You're asking the wrong person.'

'I'm asking the person who knows me best.'

Susannah shrugged. 'I can't tell you what to do, Meels. I don't want either of you to get hurt.'

'I know. I don't want that either.'

'Just be careful, will you? Be careful for both of you.'

'Promise.'

January quickly settled into its cold, relentless routine. She went to work. She took down the tree and put the decorations away. She went to the hospital with Amelia and read a James Patterson thriller to her while she sat with her eyes closed. She refereed between Douglas and Daisy. She didn't think any more about her resolutions.

And then, early in the month out of the blue Rob telephoned her. She'd given her mobile phone number to Lois when she'd seen her that time shyly passing her a business card from her wallet when she'd asked her about work. His mother must have given it to him.

He called on a Monday afternoon. She had just left work, and was walking down the busy street towards the underground at first she didn't recognize his voice, couldn't hear what he was saying. The sales were on and the pavements were crowded.

She stopped, and ducked off the main street, into a doorway, putting a finger in her ear to block out the passing traffic. 'Hello? Who is this?'

'Rob. It's Rob. I'm sorry. Susannah?'

Not Susie. 'Yes. It's me.'

'Is this a bad time? You sounded like you were in a crowd. I could call back ...'

He was almost shouting, but it was quieter here now, and she heard him clearly.

'No. It's okay. I ... I can hear you now. Rob. Hi.'

He spoke fast, sounded nervous. 'Look, I hope this doesn't feel like a real intrusion I got your number off Mum. And the idea of calling, I suppose, really. She said she said you'd been to see them, how nice it had been to catch up, how good it had been to see you ... And I mean, I'd been meaning, really, thinking of ... well, when we saw you last summer ... So ... I've called. I would have emailed it's much easier to ignore an email, I know, than a call, but I didn't have an address ...'

'Rob! I'm happy to hear from you.' She was. Ludicrously, amazingly happy to hear from him.

'Good.'

They were silent for a moment.

'You still there?'

He laughed. 'Yes. Still here.'

'And where is here exactly?'

'London. Piccadilly, to be precise. Where are you?'

'Walking towards the Embankment. I've finished for the day I was on my way home.'

'Sorry. I've interrupted you.'

'No. Not at all. What are you doing in London?'

'Working.'

Lois hadn't said anything about where he was posted.

'Susie I wondered if you fancied getting together for a coffee, or maybe lunch or something. One of these days.'

'I'd like that.'

'Fantastic. I'd like that, too, very much.'

Again, silence. But this time she knew he was still on the line.

'What days I mean, are there good days for you? You probably don't have your diary with you, right now.'

She didn't know, then or afterwards, what made her say it. 'I'm free right now, actually. I mean ... if you don't have to be anywhere else.'

As soon as the words were out, she regretted saying them. How ridiculous did that make her sound? Right now, for God's sake. Who did that? Go twenty years without spending any time together, and then suggest meeting five minutes in.

'We could do that. I'm just about finished here. Yes, let's do that. That'd be great.'

He was probably just being kind.

He suggested a pub somewhere between the two of them and then rang off, agreeing to see her there in twenty minutes or so.

Susannah retraced her steps, went back into her building and took the elevator to her floor, going straight to the ladies' loo, which was mercifully deserted. She stood with both her hands on the edge of a sink, and stared at her reflection in the mirror for a moment, then began to panic. Her hair was a mess, most of her make-up had faded until she looked tired and grey, and there was the beginning of a run in her tights. She had been planning to go home and soak in the tub. Not meet the 'great love of her life' in a pub for a drink.

When had he started to be called that? She peered at herself. What the hell had got into her? He was married. Not just married. He was a newly-wed, with a pretty, tall, slim, blonde wife. And she knew that because she'd spied on them. Great. She ran a sink of cold water, and splashed her face, then delved in her handbag for a new pair of tights and her make-up bag.

Ten minutes later, spritzed with perfume, glossed, brushed and de-laddered, she caught a cab, feeling as sick and excited and confused as she could remember ever feeling before.

It was quiet in the pub a cold, damp, windy Monday night in January. A couple of regulars sat at the bar, chatting to the bar staff, and a small group of middle-aged office workers had taken over a couple of tables at the back. It was an old-fashioned place so much more a pub than a wine bar. The kind of place where you'd ask for red or white, not Merlot or Chardonnay. Susannah was contemplating a whisky.

Rob was sitting in a small nook behind the door, already nursing a pint of beer. He stood up when she came in. For a split second they stood facing each other, a couple of feet apart. He opened his arms, like his mother had done all those months ago on the common, and Susannah stepped into them, and back in time as his arms closed around her, and her head nestled, just for a moment, in the spot on his neck that was so familiar to her it felt like coming home. She felt little and precious in his embrace, and it felt wonderful.

For the first five minutes, they busied themselves getting her a drink, hanging her coat on the hooks behind his head, talking about the weather. She kept looking at him, not quite believing they were here together.

Then her drink was in front of her, and they began to talk. She asked him how he came to be in London.

'I'm not in the RAF any more. I'm a consultant now.' Rob drew inverted commas in the air when he said 'consultant', and made a face, as though the new job title still amused and bemused him.

'Wow.'

'I came out at thirty-eight. In 2009. It's the first time, apart from after a short commission six years in that you can come out with a decent pension and a lump sum. A lot of the guys do it.'

'I didn't know you'd done that.'

'Why would you?' He smiled.

'But why? I always thought you loved it.'

Rob shook his head. Susannah thought she'd been too nosy. How the hell did she know he loved it? She needed to remind herself that she didn't know this man. She knew the boy he'd been, but she didn't know him.

'Sorry.' She stopped herself.

'No. Please. It's just funny. We haven't talked in what? twenty years and you're just like you always were. Straight to the heart of the matter.'

'Sorry.'

'Don't be. It's nice ... familiar. Too many people pussyfoot around.'

She felt suddenly shy.

'And you're right, anyway. I did love it. I was one of your actual career soldiers, for years. Decades, I suppose.'

'So, what changed? I mean if you don't mind me asking? I'm asking too many questions, I know. Lawyers.'

Rob shook his head. 'That's right. You're a lawyer.'

'Don't hate me. We're not all bad.'

'I don't hate you. And I don't mind you asking questions.' He shrugged. 'Dad. Dad changed. He was diagnosed two years before I came out. It's terminal, the disease, and it usually kills you within three to five years. And it's bad. It gets really bad. I knew Mum would need me. I was still getting postings that's the job. Six, nine months. Anywhere in the world. The Gulf wasn't out of the question. Or Afghanistan not entirely, although not many of my lot deployed to the fighting there. You don't nip back from these places. When you're gone, you're gone. And I didn't want to be away when she needed me. I didn't want her worrying about me as well as Dad, either. And she always did worry herself sick if I was anywhere she thought was dangerous, even though I'd mostly been teaching and training in the last few years. She still worries. You remember what she's like?'

Susannah nodded. She remembered. 'So, you gave up doing what you loved?'

'He's my dad, Susie. You'd have done the same, if you needed to.'

Would she? Susannah couldn't imagine her dad ill in the way Frank was. Ill and waiting to get worse. Waiting to die.

All her memories of her dad were somehow physical. Dad swinging her above his head until she giggled insensibly and begged to be put down. Dad holding her bike saddle, running alongside her until he let go, and she heard his voice receding behind her, shouting encouragement and triumph. Dad's arms around her. Dad digging in the garden. Her dad. And Mum. She wasn't sure how Mum would cope. Mum was the noisier parent, and maybe the busier one, but she wasn't the stronger one. Or the wiser one. Susannah shivered at the fleeting idea of a world without Dad's counsel, and his gentle smile.

'I bet he was really angry when you told him.'

Rob laughed. 'He certainly would have been. Really, really angry. If he'd known the real reason.'

'What did you tell him, then?'

'The truth. Part of it, at least. That I'd had enough. That I was tired. That I'd had enough of this war. We've been at it now for what nine years? We're not getting anywhere.'

'And he bought that?'

'He did, mostly the part about being tired of it. He'd said several times over the years that it is no life for an older man. I think he wanted me to have a family, you know kids some stability ...' Rob's voice trailed off.

Susannah wasn't ready to talk about his wife yet. 'And how is Frank now?'

Rob rubbed his forehead. 'When was it that you saw him?'

'September, I think it was.'

He shook his head. 'He's gone quite a long way downhill since then. It's weird for months he seems unchanged, and then there's a sudden acceleration, he deteriorates. And then maybe it stops again. Maybe not, I suppose. Eventually, it won't stop, of course.'

'Is he in a wheelchair now? I was sort of surprised he wasn't when I saw him in the autumn.'

Rob nodded. 'Yeah. That happened right before Christmas. Most of his strength is gone now. That and the shakes make standing up really difficult, without help. And Mum isn't up to it, not really. And walking that's impossible now.'

'God. How bloody awful.'

'It's wretched, Susie. Really hard to watch, to be honest. His speech is much worse, too. He has a lot of trouble getting his words out. And he hates it. That's worse, for Mum, I think. She'd resigned herself to the wheelchair, but I think him not being able to communicate that's been incredibly hard for her. She's lonely, basically.'

'Of course.'

'She was so pleased when you went to see her, Susie. She always loved you.'

'Did she?'

'Yeah. You set the bar very high, she said. She never really stopped being fed up with me about it.'

'Fed up with you?'

'Yeah. Thought I shouldn't have let you go.' He looked suddenly shy.

The conversation dried up. They just looked at each other.

Then Susannah forced herself to say it. There was nothing else to say. 'So ... you're married now!'

'You know?'

'Please! I certainly hope you weren't trying to keep it a secret not in our village!'

'Not a secret, no. I just didn't know everyone knew.'

'So ... who is she? Tell me all about her ...' She couldn't believe how light her voice sounded, but Susannah couldn't say she'd already seen her.

Rob smiled shyly, and it stung just a little bit. 'Her name is Helena. She's in the RAF. That's how we met.'

'New spin on the office romance, I guess?'

'I suppose. She's a fair bit younger than me.'

Susannah nodded. She almost wanted Rob to tell her how much he loved his wife, how he'd never been happier. But he didn't.