‘What does it say?’

‘Nothing’ Pain mingled with disbelief in Dougie’s dark eyes as he crumpled the letter in his fist and headed upstairs.

Adele didn’t want to see him hurt, but it was for his own good. It was for the best. Calling up after Dougie she said, ‘Are you hungry, darling? Can I get you something to eat?’

‘No’ He turned abruptly, his jaw set. ‘How did you know the letter was from Lola?’

Adele thought fast. ‘I was upstairs when I heard something coming through the letterbox.When I looked out of the window she was running up the road. Why don’t I make you a roast beef sandwich, nice and rare?’

‘Mum, I’m not hungry.’

Adele’s heart went out to him. ‘Sweetheart, is everything all right?’

‘It will be.’ Filled with resolve, Dougie nodded and said evenly, ‘I’m going to my room, then I’m going out. And yes, everything will be all right.’

But it wasn’t, thank God. Lola had kept her part of the bargain. The moment Dougie left the house, Adele infiltrated his room and found the crumpled-up note under the bed.

Dear Dougie, Sorry to do it like this, but it’s easier than face to face. It’s over, Dougie, I don’t want to see you any more. We’ve had fun and I don’t regret our relationship but my feelings for you have changed recently, the magic just seems to have gone. I don’t want to move up to Edinburgh with you, it’s not my kind of place, and the thought of all that travelling up to see you is just too much. It’d never work out – we both know that, deep down. So I’ve decided to go abroad, somewhere hot and sunny. Don’t bother trying to contact me because I’ve made up my mind. You’ll find someone else in no time, and so will I.

Have a good life, Dougie. Sorry about this but you know it makes sense.

Cheers, Lola x

Adele nodded approvingly, crumpled the note back up again and replaced it under the bed.

Good girl. She couldn’t have put it better herself.

Together-forever, together-forever, together-forever. The words sang tauntingly through Doug’s head in time with the rhythmic rattle of the tube train over the tracks. Just last week – seven days ago – he and Lola had taken a picnic up to Parliament Hill. Lola had let out a squeal of mock outrage when he’d pinched the last sausage roll. He’d run off with it, she’d caught him up and wrestled him to the ground and he’d given the sausage roll to her. They’d shared it in the end, laughing and kissing the crumbs from each other’s lips. It was a warm sunny day and new freckles, baby ones, had sprung up across Lola’s tanned nose. He’d rolled her onto her back and teased her about them, holding her arms above her head so she couldn’t dig him in the ribs. And then they’d stopped laughing and gazed into each other’s eyes, both recognising that what they were experiencing was one of those perfect moments you never forget.

‘Oh Dougie, I love you.’ Lola had whispered the words, her voice catching with emotion. ‘We’ll be together forever, won’t we? Promise me we’ll be together forever.’

And he had. Furthermore he’d meant it. Now, sitting in the swaying carriage gazing blindly out of the window as the train clattered along singing its mocking song, Doug wondered what could have happened to make it all go so wrong.

’She’s gone, love. I’m so sorry. You know what Lola’s like once she makes up her mind about something — whoosh, that’s it, off like a rocket.’

Dougie couldn’t believe it. Lola had left. It was actually happening. One minute everything had been fine and they’d been completely, deliriously happy together, the next minute she’d disappeared off the face of the earth. It wasn’t manly and it wasn’t something he’d admit to his friends in a million years, but the pain of loss was so devastating it felt as if his heart might actually break.

Instead, struggling to retain his composure, Dougie swallowed the golf ball in his throat. Did she say why?’

‘Not really.’ Blythe shrugged helplessly, as baffled as he was. ‘Just said she fancied a change.

Her friend Jeannie was moving to Majorca, they met up for a chat and the next day Lola announced that she was going out there with Jeannie. To live. Well, we were shocked! And I did ask her if she’d thought things through, what with you two having been so close, but there was no stopping her. I really am sorry, love. She should have told you herself.’

It didn’t help that Lola’s mother was looking at him as if hewere an abandoned puppy in a cardboard box; she was sympathetic but there was nothing she could do.

‘Do you have a phone number for her? An address?’

‘Sorry, love, I can’t do that. She doesn’t want you to contact her. I think she just feels you have your own lives to lead.’ Lola’s mum struggled to console him.

As if anything could. Dougie raked his fingers through his hair in desperation. ‘Is she seeing someone else?’

‘No.’Vigorously Blythe shook her head. ‘Definitely not that.’

He didn’t know if that made things better or worse. Being dumped in favour of someone else was one thing, but being dumped in favour of no one at all was an even bigger kick in the teeth.

Controlling his voice with difficulty, Dougie said, ‘Can you do me a favour? Just tell her that if she changes her mind, she knows where I am.’

‘I’ll do that, love.’ For a moment Blythe’s blue eyes swam and she looked as if she might be about to fling her arms around him. Terrified that if she did he might burst into tears and ruin his street cred for life, Dougie hurriedly stepped away from the front door.

‘Thanks.’

Chapter 3

Seven Years Ago

’Oh Lola, look at you.’ Squeezing her tightly, Blythe slipped instantly into mother hen mode.

‘It’s February. You’ll catch your death of cold!’

‘Mum, I’m twenty, you’re not allowed to nag me any more.’ But secretly Lola enjoyed it.

Hugging her mother in return, she then teasingly lifted the hem of her top to show off her toffee-brown Majorcan tan.

‘You’ll be frostbitten once we get outside.’ Taking one of Lola’s squashy travelling bags, Blythe began threading her way through the crowded airport to the exit. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to pull a jumper out of your case?’

‘Quite sure. What’s the point of being browner than anyone else and covering it all up with a jumper? Oh Mum, stop a moment, let me hug you again. I’ve missed you so much.’

‘You daft thing. How’s it going with Stevie?’

‘It’s gone. I’m not seeing him any more. We drifted apart.’ Lola smiled to show how little it mattered. Stevie had been fun but their relationship had never been serious. Patting her stomachshe said, ‘And I’m starving. Are we going straight home or shall I pick up a burger here?’

‘No burgers today. We’re eating out. Alex is treating us to lunch,’ said Blythe. ‘He’s booked a table at Emerson’s in Piccadilly.’

‘Whoo-hoo, lunch at Emerson’s.There’s posh,’ Lola marvelled. ‘What have we done to deserve this?’

Blythe gave her arm a squeeze. ‘No special reason, love. It’s just wonderful to have you back.’

Her mother had been lying. There was a special reason. Alex waited until they’d chosen their food before ordering a bottle of champagne.

‘Alex, have you gone mad?’ And it was real champagne. This was plain reckless; when Lola had been growing up she’d never even been allowed proper Coca-Cola at home, only the pretend kind because it was cheaper.

‘I’m out of the business,’ said Alex as the waiter brought the bottle to the table.

‘Oh no.’ Lola’s heart sank; then again she’d always known it was a risky venture. Following her departure from home three years ago, Alex had given up gambling, just like that. Since that terrible time when they’d almost lost him he hadn’t so much as joined in a sweepstake on the Grand National. He had given up visiting his snooker club too. Instead he had stayed at home every night, becoming more and more interested in the business opportunities being offered up by the fast-expanding internet. When he’d come up with a germ of an idea for a web-based hotel booking service, Lola had listened and nodded politely without really understanding how it might work. As far as she was concerned Alex could have been yabbering away in Elvish. All this internetty stuff sounded pretty far-fetched to her; she’d had very little to do with it herself.

But Alex had persisted, eventually setting up a company and working on it in his spare time.

Then last year he’d given up his job at the garage in order to devote more hours to it. Lola had been under the impression that things were going rather well.

Oh God ... she hoped he hadn’t slipped and gone back to gambling.

‘So’ Here came the sick feeling of dread again. ‘What went wrong?’

Alex’s eyes crinkled at the corners, the lines emphasised by the light from the candle on the table.

‘Nothing went wrong. It was too much for me to handle. I’d have needed to take on staff, find proper offices ... I couldn’t deal with everything myself.’

Lola nodded. ‘Mum said you were working all hours.’

‘I never imagined it would take off like that. It was incredible, but it was scary. Then another company approached me,’ Alex explained. ‘They offered to buy me out.’

‘Oh! Well, that must have been a relief.’As long as Alex wasn’t gambling again, she was happy.

‘It is a relief.’ Alex gravely nodded in agreement and raised his fizzing glass. ‘So here’s to us.’

‘To us.’ Lola enthusiastically clinked glasses with them both and took a big gulp of delicious icy-cold champagne.

‘By the way,’ said Alex, ‘I sold the business for one point six million.’

Luckily the champagne had already disappeared down her throat, otherwise she’d have sprayed it across the table like a garden sprinkler.

‘Are you serious?’

‘It’s true!’ Blythe’s eyes danced. ‘You don’t know how hard it’s been for me not to tell you. I nearly blurted it out at the airport!’

‘My God,’ Lola breathed.

‘And this is for you.’ Alex took a folded cheque from his inside pocket and passed it across the table.

‘My God.’ Lola’s hands began to tremble as she counted the noughts, then recounted them. For several seconds she couldn’t speak. Her mother had never found out about the traumatic events of three years ago, which made it all the more difficult to say what she wanted to say. But Alex, although he hadn’t needed to, was paying her back many, many times over. It was too late, but he so badly wanted to make amends for what she had been forced to do in order to save her family.

Finally, unsteadily, Lola said, ‘Alex, you don’t need to do this.’ Their eyes met. He smiled.

‘You’re my daughter. Why wouldn’t I?’

‘I said it was too much,’ Blythe chimed in proudly, ‘but he insisted. Now, you’re not to fritter it away!’

‘You can afford to move out of that poky little rented apartment of yours,’ said Alex, ‘and buy yourself a villa up in the hills. That wouldn’t be frittering.’

Unable to contain herself, Lola jumped up out of her chair and threw her arms around him.

Never mind a villa up in the hills; now she could afford to move back to London and buy herself somewhere to live here.

Because Majorca might be brilliant in many ways, but there really was no place like home.

‘Lola.’Appalled by the attention she was receiving, Blythe frantically attempted to tug down her daughter’s short skirt. ‘Stand up straight, for heaven’s sake. Everyone’s looking at your pants!’

There was always something deliciously disorientating about emerging from a dark, candlelit restaurant at three thirty in the afternoon and discovering that it was still daylight outside, albeit chilly grey city daylight.

But the greyness didn’t matter, because it only made the brightly illuminated shops all the more enticing. Like a human magnet Lola found herself being drawn irresistibly in the direction of the biggest, sparkliest shops.

‘We’ll leave you to it.’ Her mother and Alex couldn’t be persuaded to join her. ‘Don’t spend too much.’

‘Mum, I haven’t been home for four months! I’ve got some catching up to do:

‘Maybe a nice warm coat.’ Blythe could never resist a dig.

When they’d headed back to the car, Lola threaded her way through the narrow back streets of Piccadilly until she reached Regent Street. Oh yes, here they were, the department stores she’d missed so much, with their elegant beauty halls and perfume departments and escalators that led to other floors awash with yet more gorgeous things to lust over .. .

Better still, here was Kingsley’s.

Lola paused at the entrance, savouring the moment. Department stores were fabulous but they still came second to bookshops in her heart. Alcudia in Majorca had many things going for it but the sad collection of battered and faded English-language paperbacks on the rickety carousels in the beachfront souvenir shops wasn’t one of them. She craved a proper bookshop like an addict craves a fix. There really wasn’t much that could beat that gorgeous new-book smell, touching the covers and turning the pages of a book whose pages had, just possibly, never been turned before.