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‘Where shall we start?’
‘Your course!’ he said, pulling back, full of the energy I remembered. ‘What is happening with your course?’
‘I finished it,’ I told him, proud of myself for once. ‘I did it and I loved every second. I work in a gallery now, too. I’m surrounded by photography all day every day so, as you can imagine, I’m in my absolute element.’
He laughed. ‘I knew you could do it, Hannah.’
‘And what about you?’ I asked excitedly. ‘Your music?’
He looked embarrassed, suddenly, his fringe too short to cover his eyes now, even when he tried to hide behind it. ‘The track was a hit. Number one in five countries.’
I took his hands in mine and squeezed them. ‘I told you she’d love it in the end.’
‘So now you are a fortune teller as well as a mind reader?’
A train pulled in on the platform, hissing to a stop.
He looked up. ‘Shall we go?’
I watched the train’s doors open, passengers piling off. ‘Sure. Where to?’
He hesitated. ‘Can I buy lunch for you?’
‘Hmmmn, that depends. What’s on the menu?’
‘No, you cannot only have Monts Blancs for lunch, Hannah.’
I frowned playfully. ‘Anyway, I’m pretty sure it’s my shout.’
‘Ah well, if you are paying I know just the place,’ he said winking at me.
He picked up my suitcase and took my hand, leading me towards the exit, the same one he’d pulled up at on the motorbike all those months before.
‘Now, you do know there is no bike this time?’ he said, mock-apologetically.
‘You can imagine how disappointed I am,’ I joked, smiling with relief and wrapping both arms around his waist, burying my head in his chest. He smelled exactly the same. As we stepped outside, our breath just visible in the freezing February air, I noticed how easy and familiar everything felt already, as though I had never been away.
