Then there were the revelations about Ceri – a woman who’d apparently bewitched him, then broken his heart so thoroughly that he’d had to leave the country in hopes of getting over her. Perhaps it wasn’t surprising that, a decade on and with Aled in possession of a valuable London property, the woman seemed to have changed her mind about him. Rosie tried to comfort herself with the thought that, at least so far, Aled had showed no sign of softening towards his ex-girlfriend.
It was what he’d said about feeling at home – feeling better than he had in a long time – that she’d tucked away in her memory for safekeeping. She fetched it from her mental storehouse more frequently than she should, re-examining it like it was a precious artefact or a puzzle she couldn’t quite solve. It meant he liked her, she supposed – that he felt comfortable with her in a way that was unusual for him. Even after her mini-makeover, though, she couldn’t bring herself to believe he had anything more than friendly feelings for her. No doubt he’d bring some tall, skinny, highly intelligent girlfriend home any day now. Through gritted teeth and with a roiling stomach, Rosie would shake her hand and chat pleasantly, all the while secretly wishing for the woman to be struck by lightning.
It was half-term, and she had a day off from the cafe. Aled had spent the morning finishing some school work while Rosie had done a few rounds of YouTube yoga, and there was a vague plan to head out for a walk and a cheeky afternoon pint if the weather held. It was bright but cool, the sun breaking through thin white clouds in a way that made everything look pretty but proffered little warmth.
Rosie emerged from the bathroom after her post-workout shower and detected what sounded like an argument drifting down the corridor from the flat’s front door.Weird. As she tuned in she quickly realised that wasJames’svoice – and Aled was remonstrating with him.
Forgetting that she had a towel on her head and was wearing nothing but underwear and a knee-length dressing gown, she marched towards the increasingly heated conversation.
‘… not going to let you in here unless she says she wants to see you,’ Aled was saying, his deep voice firm but calm.
‘I’m not being funny, mate, but since when did you become her keeper?’ James snapped sourly, his Cheshire accent strange to Rosie’s ears after so many weeks without it. ‘I think I know better thanyouwhat she might want,’ he went on. ‘We were together for almost ten years.’
It was funny, Rosie thought, that he’d invoke the length of their relationship when it suited him. It hadn’t meant all that much when he’d finished with her, leaving her high and dry in a flat he knew she couldn’t afford.
The moment she came into view, James clammed up. He stared at her, round-eyed, taking in her near nakedness and her proximity to Aled, who she’d deliberately stood right next to.
‘James, what are you doing here?’ she asked.
‘You’ve not answered any of my messages or calls. I wanted to see how you were,’ he said sullenly.
‘Why? I told you when you left that we weren’t going to be friends – that once you were gone, we were over for good.’
‘Please, Rosie, there are some things I want to say. I’d really like it if we could talk.Alone,’ James added, with a murderous look at his former neighbour.
‘Do you want to talk to him?’ Aled asked, looking down at Rosie with sincere concern in his deep brown eyes.
‘I amhere,’ James put in, sounding like a sulky teenager whose parents were openly discussing his most recent misdemeanour. ‘Don’t talk about me like I can’t hear you, please.’
Aled rolled his eyes and placed a gentle hand on Rosie’s shoulder.
Thrilling at the contact, she took a deep breath and then turned to her ex-boyfriend. ‘You’ve got noreasonto be here, James. But you can have five minutes to get whatever it is off your chest,’ she said. ‘And before you eventhinkit, let alone ask: I will not be making tea.’
‘You sure you’re all right?’ Aled asked, his hand sliding down her cotton-covered arm and then brushing her own. He gave her fingers a squeeze, as if to reassure her that he wouldn’t leave her alone with James if she had even a shred of doubt about seeing him.
The gesture was kind, empathetic and not in any way sexual – but the feel of his warm skin touching hers was electrifying. She felt a jolt ofwantingmore powerful than anything James had managed to elicit in her during the decade they’d spent together.
Rosie glanced up to see that her ex’s eyes, narrowed and lit with resentment, had taken in the sudden flush she could feel lighting up her cheeks.
‘Follow me,’ she said to James. Aled went into his room – which, at this oddest of moments, Rosie realised she no longer thought of as in any way ‘spare’. He shut the door to give them privacy.
They reached the sitting room, and James moved towards the armchair he’d often sat in when he and Rosie lived together.
‘Watch out,’ she warned, pointing as James lowered his backside towards the seat. ‘You’ll squash him.’
‘What the—’ James yelped, as Springsteen uncoiled himself and stood up from the cushion he’d been lounging on. He glared at James with accusing yellow eyes, hissed imperiously and then leapt to the floor. After throwing a final withering glare at his would-be assailant, he trotted in the direction of the recently installed cat flap.
‘Is that the mangy old stray from the alley?’ James demanded. ‘What are you thinking, letting it in?’
‘Heis called Springsteen,’ Rosie informed him. ‘He lives here now – and there’s nothing mangy about him.’
James looked around the flat, taking in the cat food dishes on the kitchen floor, the obviously masculine jacket and boots that occupied the rack by the back door and the two empty coffee mugs that sat next to the sink.
‘Seems likeSpringsteenisn’t the only one who’s got his paws under the table,’ James said with venom. ‘What the hell is the bloke from upstairs doing in our flat? And why the fuck don’t my keys work?’
‘Ourflat?’ Rosie scoffed. ‘You moved out, James, remember? You don’t pay rent anymore. Which is also why you no longer have keys for the place.’
‘You changed the locks?’
