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  Chapter One

  I stepped out of the station and drew in a deep breath. The mingled scents of London hit me in the back of the nose, and a strong sense of history hit my heart. I was home. I could identify exhaust fumes, hot oil from the fried chicken shops, and alcohol from the group of young men hanging around, enjoying the first hints of the summer sun. Yup, this was London alright. I hitched my rucksack back up, turned left, and started walking downhill.

  Despite growing up here, it had been ten years since I had left for university, and after moving I hadn’t spent more than just the odd night in the house I’d grown up in. I’d become accustomed to the gentler pace of Leicester, my university town. The bustle of London was a million miles away from the second hand book shops and delicatessens around my old flat. But that was over. This was where I was going to be living, at least for a while, and I’d better get used to it again. I thought about my new job. That at least felt positive. At least, it sounded like a more sensible reason to be back, and infinitely nicer than simply running away from a broken heart.

  I looked at my watch. Ten to six. My parents would be home from work soon. That brought a smile to my weary face at least. Knowing their routines by heart, my dad would arrive home first, walk in and immediately put on the six o clock news. He would make a cup of tea, and take a few minutes to relax and unwind after a busy day teaching maths. His students didn’t want to be stuck in school, not to mention trying to learn algebra that 99% of them would not attempt come the exams, let alone ever use again after that. No wonder he took some respite when he got home. Then, within about ten minutes my mum would arrive home from the health centre, pour herself a glass of wine, sigh, then, just about when you thought she was going to relax and sit down, she’d turn back into the energiser bunny, and speed round the house tidying, cleaning, pausing only to throw a pizza or a couple of jacket potatoes into the oven for tea. She’d continue at this speed until about 9pm, when she’d eventually burn out, disappear off to bed, only to wake up again at 6am and do it all again the next day.

  They’d been thrilled when I’d rung them two weeks ago to tell them about my new job. New money was flooding into East London as the Hackney crowd moved further out in the search of more affordable housing. Having been in the last few years the scene of infamous arrests and stabbings, it was nice to see something good happening in my little corner of town. I was going to be working for the council on their plans to regenerate the area. If my parents had been surprised when I told them that Patrick wasn’t moving down with me, they’d been too polite to mention it. I was expecting a grilling when I got home, but knowing my folks it would be gentle, probably conducted by dad over a pint after my mum had gone to sleep, and whilst I wasn’t looking forward to it, it wasn’t a problem. I knew they only ever wanted the best for me. At most, they would be curious about why it hadn’t worked out and would want reassurance that I was ok. And I thought I was. Mostly, anyway.

  I crossed the road and walked past the shops, reminiscing about where the sports shop used to be, though it must have been closed nearly half my life now. It had been a wonderful old fashioned place, full of the smell of new shoes and equipment stored in wooden drawers. It had been the place we’d come to buy our trainers when we were kids and first learning about the styles you could wear to school without being teased. I’d spent a lot of my teenage years trying to work out how to blend in, and then a lot of my twenties becoming comfortable with the idea that it was ok to just be who I was. My current flat black sandals cost me ten quid from the market, and I planned to wear them for as long as I could, before swapping from multi coloured maxi dresses back into my winter uniform of jeans and Doc Martens.

  It was a strange combination to be back, older and probably not wiser. I was just walking past the yard that had previously been a second hand car lot, searching everywhere for the signs of change, spotting them here and there in the newer cars or business suits on people walking past me. Some things never changed however. Empty crisp packets and drinks cans lined every gutter. There was a police car pulled up outside the takeaway. Perhaps the crime rates had taken longer to drop than the yummy mummies and hipsters were happy with. Still, the area had been in the news not long before when the biggest girl band of the time had filmed their music video on the high street. It made a nice change to being in the news for various assaults or mysterious fires. I remembered being in the chippy years ago, just before I left, young and tipsy, waiting for a dodgy kebab to help sober me up on the walk home. Another memory, another smile. Perhaps being back here wasn’t going to be such a bad thing.

  The officer was stood on the pavement, leaning against his police car, and eating a burger so quickly it looked like he was inhaling it. He finished, wiped his mouth with a napkin, which he folded carefully and put back in his pocket. It’s funny the motions you use to recognise people, their walk, the way they hold themselves. In this case, the careful fastidiousness of cleaning up after eating. I’d have known him a mile off. I had a split second to make the decision whether to try and take a different route, but the straps of my bag were beginning to dig in, and he might not have recognised me.

  He turned to get back into his car, pausing to let me pass him. I took the chance to squeeze past, and was almost away again safely when he looked up and saw my face. He stopped, froze for a second, then reached and drew me into a bear hug. He took my face in his hands, kissed me on the lips, and hugged me again. He let me go, and stepped backwards, as if to view me better.

  “Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said, and smiled. “Sorry about the kiss, old habits…”

  I should have known I’d bump into him at some point, but I’d squashed the possibility down, hidden it under my worries about Patrick and work. Still, I smiled back. Soon-Yi Shen, or Sunny to his friends. He’d grown since I last saw him, maybe only an inch taller, but broader too. And more than that, he had an air of calm confidence that had only been hinted at before.

  “You’re back.” Was my name Amy Louise Gough, or Miss State the Obvious? It made a change. I’d been ‘Gough the Toff’ to my old classmates. They had really liked me at school.

  “Yes, I’m back. The crazy bastard died five years ago, dropped dead of a heart attack. Probably all the heart ache he caused his family finally coming back to bite him. I was on the first plane back once I finally heard.” So I guessed relations with his dad hadn’t improved after all. “I kept expecting to bump into you once I got back, but Mark said that he hardly saw you these days.” Mark had been the third and final member of our group, the school outcasts who hung out together because no one else wanted us. I’d been the school geek. Sunny was the only Chinese boy in the year, and part of such a strict family he’d not dared step out of line even at school.

  “Does your job not get in the way of you and Mark being friends?” I asked. Mark had been the school stoner. I’d always thought that smelling strongly of dope would probably make him one of the kids you’d most want in your gang, a useful source at least, but Mark had always preferred his own company, and spent all the time that he wasn’t with us listening to music on his headphones. Maybe it was the refusal to be a dealer that had sealed his ostracism from our school mates. Whatever it was, the three of us had found each other somehow, and it had been the one thing that had made going to school a little less painful.

  “Mark is an upstanding member of the community these days” Sunny told me. I laughed properly at that, I think for the first time in weeks. “He works at the youth club now, running sports sessions with kids who are at risk of being excluded from school. I actually worked with him on a project recently to try and keep the
m out of trouble. He scored a grant from the council. Anyway, he assures me that any dope I smell these days is purely medicinal. When he’s not trying to convince me that it’s just a new after shave.”

  Mark was yet another good reason to be home. We’d swapped the odd email over the years, though mostly these days we were Facebook friends, we ‘liked’ each other’s photos, without ever really getting round to visiting in real life. A nice way to keep in touch, and yet suddenly I missed his warmth and humour. Mark was 26, the same age as me and Sunny. At six foot two though he was half a head taller than Sunny, and the best part of a foot taller than me. With his pale skin and impressive surfer boy haircut, he definitely made us look a rag tag bunch of people, but he was always ready to see the best in a person and that was an admirable quality. I loved to watch him get chatting to new people, and I could only imagine how great he’d be at the youth centre.

  Sunny popped the tab on a can of coke and took a big swallow, maybe stealing himself to ask me “so are you back for long this time?”

  I nodded. “I’m working with the regeneration team” I told him. “Based in the council offices, but doing lots of outreach locally too.”

  “So I’ll be seeing you around again?” he asked. I nodded, and he smiled again.

  “And your husband?” he asked.

  “Fiancé,” I corrected him, “well, ex-fiancé. No, he’s stayed in our old flat, and he won’t be visiting.” Sunny smiled again. I wanted to as well, but if I thought about all the emotions involved in leaving Patrick and seeing Sunny again, I’d be a wreck. Better to get home in one piece and process all this on my own later. I glanced at my watch.

  “Do you have to be somewhere?” he asked. “Otherwise the pub has just changed hands.”

  I didn’t ask which pub. I didn’t need to. I knew he meant our old haunt where the three of us had spent hours playing pool and drinking cheap lager. Sunny and I playing more games whilst Mark slipped outside to score a new stash. I didn’t reply, merely raised an eyebrow at him. “No, it’s nice now, honestly” he told me.

  “I can’t” I said. “My parents are expecting me, I said I’d be home for tea. I’m going to be living there again, at least while I get back on my feet.”

  “Want a lift home?” he offered.

  “Are you allowed to give rides in your police car?” I asked.

  “As long as you don’t try and arrest anyone I think we should be ok.”

  He opened the door for me, so I climbed in. If nothing else, arriving home in a police car should give the neighbours something to talk about.

  Chapter Two

  I asked Sunny to put the sirens and flashing lights on when he dropped me off, but he had obviously grown up somewhat since I last saw him and he refused. It was only a two minute drive home from the takeaway, but I spotted at least three drivers I’d have pulled over and spoken to if I’d been a police officer. Some things never changed. Sunny seemed distracted though, now that I was in the car with him, and barely spoke until we pulled up outside my house.

  He pulled up outside my house. I was tempted to let myself out before we could talk, but that would just be postponing the inevitable. Mind you, the stress of packing up and leaving finally, not to mention having my face wedged into a fellow passenger’s armpit for several stops on the tube had left me on edge, and a little postponement didn’t feel like a bad idea. I reached for the handle.

  “So are you free for a pint one night?” he asked me. I nodded, not sure I trusted my voice to remain steady. Seeing him again brought back memories, but I hardly knew anyone in the area anymore, and between the new job and new living arrangements, I’d need any friends I could get. He’d once been the best friend I had.

  “That would be nice. Though what about you? Any wives or girlfriends who would be jealous? Not that it is any of my business” I said. Then I wondered why I’d asked, I was in no state yet to go there, and especially with Sunny.

  “No, no significant others, but I’m glad you still wanted to know.” He grinned. “I’ll ring you? I’m assuming your telephone number hasn’t changed. I still remember it.” He leant across and kissed my cheek.

  I felt my eyes welling up and hoped he thought it was just the emotion in moving home and seeing my parents again. I blinked to clear the tears before they fell, grabbed my bag and made for the door. I think my mum must have had a psychic sense that I needed her, as she was there before I could get my key out. She pulled me close and I had my second bear hug of the evening. My dad followed close behind, and I barely got a breath in before he too hugged me. It was good to be home. I turned and waved Sunny off, then followed my parents into their house.

  The Victorian detached, stood out against the rest of the road of smaller terraces, but the inside totally matched the personalities of its owners. It was an eclectic collection of antiques, CDs, books, and photographs. Sometimes the piles of possessions looked a little wobbly, but they never fell over. I could only hope that the same would be true of myself. I took a deep breath and tried to regain my composure, looking at the familiar clutter on the shelves in the living room. So many of the items brought back happy memories. There were the shot glasses from holidays past, and the straw donkey that my dad had smuggled back from Spain. He hadn’t had to sneak it into the country to avoid customs. He’d known my mum would hate it and had bribed me to pack it in my suitcase and pretend to give it to them so that it would be allowed to stay. Even now, fifteen years later my mum could be caught grimacing at it on occasion. Dad had named it Eric and liked to pat it on the head on his way out the door every morning. I’d never owned up to my part in the subterfuge.

  I walked down the narrow hallway and turned into the kitchen. The large table held a vase of fresh flowers and a huge box of chocolates. Yet another of their many ways to make me feel welcome. Suddenly the energy it had taken to get me through the last few weeks ran out. The adrenaline surge I’d felt on seeing Sunny disappeared, leaving my body feeling like a piece of lead. I ran to my dad and buried myself in his arms. I hid my head against his chest and cried in a way I don’t think I had since I was fifteen years old and my gran died. Mum came and joined the group hug, stroking my hair and holding me until I could finally control my tears.

  “Would you like a cuppa?” Dad asked.

  “Or wine?” Mum offered.

  I smiled. “I’ve been on the train for hours. What I’d really like is a long hot bath, and then a nice cup of tea. If you don’t mind.” I saw them glance at each other. They’d obviously seen Sunny drop me off, and I’d still not explained why I was moving back to London on my own, but they managed to control themselves for now.

  “Of course, love,” Mum told me. “There’s a fresh towel out for you in your room. Dinner is ready in half an hour if you’re hungry, or we can just save you some.”

  “I’ll be down in time to eat” I said. “And I’ll tell you all about my new job, I promise.” I deliberately didn’t say that I’d explain everything. I wasn’t sure I could.

  I climbed the stairs, and though they weren’t steep I still found myself dragging my legs up the last few. It had been a long day which had started with leaving one flat full of broken dreams, and coming back home to a house that I’d left once with such hope. I tried telling myself that this was a job worth coming back for, and hoped that I could really believe it.

  I grabbed my towel, went into the bathroom and turned on the hot water. I helped myself to a generous dollop of mum’s expensive bubble bath. Back when I was a teenager she’d get upset if I used it without asking, but as soon as I’d left home and rarely made it back to visit she’d always make a point to make sure I knew I was welcome to use some. I was glad I’d thought to buy a bottle for her and reminded myself to take it downstairs for her once I was dressed again.

  It’s a wonder what a long soak in a hot bath can do usually, but this one wasn’t quite relaxing me as much as I had hoped. I laid back and tried again but in vain. Thoughts of Sunny and Patrick ke
pt popping into my head. Sunny as the 16 year old he’d been the last time I saw him, and how he’d looked when I’d seen him again today. How heartbroken we’d been at his leaving, and how happy he’d been to see me again today. How much Patrick and I had loved each other when we’d got engaged, and how this hadn’t been enough to make our relationship work. I wondered how Sunny would feel once we’d had chance to really talk. If we talked about the intervening years and everything that they had brought, would he still be so pleased that I was back?

  I felt the tears in my eyes again as I slipped down into the bath and let the water wash over my face. As if it was that easy to rinse it all away. I stayed under the water until I couldn’t hold my breath any longer, then finally sat up. I reached for the towel to dry my eyes, and realised it was nearly tea time. I jumped out, dried off quickly and got some PJs from my bag.

  I made my way downstairs just as Dad put the dinner on the table. I sat down and grabbed a plate and a slice of pizza.

  “Have another slice” Mum said. “I think you lost weight since I last saw you.”

  Dad looked at her, and she stopped talking, but she was right, I probably had. I hadn’t had much appetite lately. Dad poured me a glass of wine, and then there was no more procrastinating. I owed them an explanation. I took a deep breath.

  “I’m not quite sure what happened really. When we got engaged we were still really happy, we were even talking about starting a family. We felt ready, we’d been together nearly five years, but it didn’t happen. We had some tests but nothing showed up. The doctors said keep trying, give it a year and see. But we didn’t get that far.”

  I took a bite of pizza. My parents were listening, their faces both a study in calm. They waited for me to finish and carry on with my story. It must have been odd for them to hear that their child had been thinking about providing them with a grandchild, but they didn’t try to rush me. I wondered how much I could gloss over, how much I could hide about how bad it had been. I took a long swallow of wine. Mum was barely managing to stay in her seat, but to her credit for once she managed not to rush me.