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‘We’re here!’ The driver’s voice breaks into my reverie.
I jump out and grab my bags. ‘Thanks so much! I really thought I was going to miss it.’
‘I’ve been driving this cab for nearly forty years,’ he says. ‘I’ve never let anyone miss their train.’
I pay and add a generous tip. ‘I’m sorry I doubted you. Happy Christmas!’
‘And to you.’
He waves and drives away to pick up another passenger travelling reluctantly home for the holidays. I remember that some people actually want to go home for Christmas. In fact, they’ve probably been looking forward to it for months.
It isn’t that I don’t want to see my family. Of course, I do. If Jamie’s leaving for America soon, I want to be there to support Mum and Dad. And it will be lovely to see them. It’s just that I wish they lived anywhere but Little Mickton.
I race across the concourse to my platform. I jump onto the train just as it’s about to leave. The guard shakes his head disapprovingly at me, but I can’t help that.
I drag my suitcase along the carriages and find my seat just as the train pulls away from the station. I settle back and close my eyes. It’s only for a week, I tell myself. I can manage a week back home for Mum’s sake. There’s no reason for me to go to parties and meet anyone I don’t want to.
I’ve promised myself several long walks in the countryside. That’s something I miss in London. We have the parks, but I’m looking forward to taking some of my old walks in the New Forest again.
I open my eyes and watch the buildings slide past and disappear behind us. The sun has come out now, and I enjoy the sparkling frost on the fields as we get further from the city. I take a deep breath and relax. It’s Christmas, and I should enjoy it.
The drinks trolley comes by. I buy a hot chocolate and sip it, trying to get myself into a festive mood before I arrive. I’m not sure what state I’ll find Mum in, but I need to be prepared for anything. She may be bustling around as usual, doing her Christmas baking and talking nineteen to the dozen about people I’ve never met. On the other hand, she may be draped in widow’s black and sobbing in the corner of the room. There’s no real way of guessing.
My phone pings. I almost don’t look at it. It’s probably someone from the office with a last-minute emergency I won’t be able to do anything about. It will only stress me while I’m trying to get myself into a cheerful holiday mood.
But curiosity gets the better of me. I open my phone and look at the screen.
It’s from Mum.Hi, darling. Did you manage to catch the earlier train?
I text back.Bit of a rush, but I made it. I should be home around twelve thirty.
Just in time for lunch!she texts.Oh, by the way, did I mention that Alex Fielding is home for Christmas?
I stare at the screen, my mouth dry. How is that possible? I checked before booking my ticket that there was no possibility of running into him this week.
No, you didn’t, I type.
It takes her a little while to reply. She isn’t terribly quick at texting, and she always insists on full sentences and proper punctuation. Her texts sound just the way she speaks.
Didn’t I? I was sure I had. Yes, he came home yesterday. Elaine and Robert are delighted, of course. I’ll tell you all about it when you get here. Have a safe trip. See you soon.
I put my phone back in my pocket. I should have gone with my first instinct and ignored it. All my new-found Christmas cheer has disappeared. If I was driving, I’d turn the car around and go straight back home. But I doubt I’ll be able to persuade the train driver to switch tracks and go back to London. It looks as though I’m stuck with it.
Why did I allow Mum to talk me into coming home? I should have left her to deal with Jamie all by herself. It’s really nothing to do with me.
And now I’ll be stuck in Little Mickton for an entire week, unless I can think of a plausible excuse to go home early. I wonder whether Mum would accept the bubonic plague as a reason for me to leave. Probably not.
I won’t even be able to walk around the village now in case I bump into Alex. It ought to be the other way around. He’s the one who should be avoiding me. It’s only common courtesy. But I’m sure that wouldn’t even occur to him. He’ll probably suggest going for a coffee or something if he sees me. I’ll just have to make sure he doesn’t.
I didn’t even want to come home for Christmas. It just felt like the right thing to do. Obviously, no good deed goes unpunished. I close my eyes, trying not to think about the events of two years ago. I usually avoid thinking about Alex. But this time, I can’t. Mum’s text has put him front and centre. There’s no way I’ll be able to avoid him entirely this week. At least, not without Mum suspecting the truth. And she’s the last person I want interfering in my life and asking questions.
I open my bag and pull out a bar of chocolate. I don’t care if I spoil my lunch. I need something to distract me from the week ahead. I break off a piece and cram it into my mouth. But I barely taste it. All I can think about is the fact that after two whole years, I’m about to come face-to-face with Alex Fielding.
Two Years Ago
Chapter One
We’re having lunch towards the end of my summer holidays when Mum looks up from her steak. ‘The Reverend Martin is looking for volunteers to paint the church hall.’
