The House on Camden Square

‘You’ve known me longer than most people and you still had me down as the drop-out deadbeat dad? The weekender? Come on babe, that hurts. Thought you were better than that.’

‘You shouldn’t have to–’

‘Be responsible for you? For us? For what we’ve done and what we do?’ Jamie tugged at his hair desperately, shaking his head, ‘Why do you have to be responsible? Why don’t you get the choice?’

His jaw was clenched and she watched as he physically stilled himself to hear her answer. Mollie looked down at the rickety park bench that had been there forever, the middle slat missing, and the clear etchings of ‘J Luvs M’ on the back, top left, just part of the scenery.

‘I do get the choice,’ Mollie said simply, ‘that’s the point. I choose whether I keep it. I choose what happens to my body, and what lives in it. And I make the sacrifices that come with that choice. Because I’m going on gut instinct. I can’t defend it. I know it’s not the smart choice, it’s not the choice either of us need to make right now, and I’m making our lives more complicated FOREVER. But I feel... pulled, like a magnet. And you don’t get to have a choice – I’m having this baby. So I’m saying I get that it’s not fair and you shouldn’t be forced into anything.’

Jamie growled, frustrated, and crouched on the floor, looking up at Mollie on the bench, desperately trying to catch her eye, even though she was refusing to look at him. Her bottom lip was trembling and she didn’t look up.

‘Molls, if there’s a little person in this world with your eyes and smile, and my stupid hair and loud laugh, I can’t not know them. I can’t not be there. So don’t ask me again.’

His eyes were soft, light as he swivelled even further, trying to catch her eye and eventually succeeding. He smiled, stroked her cheek and Mollie promptly burst into tears.

‘Why are you always so bloody NICE, you bastard!’ Mollie howled, burying her face in her hands, ‘It’s not fair! Whenever I plan for things, you never do what I expect!’

‘You expected me to go, “Nice one Molls, know I knocked you up and everything, but I really need to try out drinking eight pints of Snakebite at freshers’ week and learning about the French Revolution a bit more. Sorry, catch ya later”? Come on. You didn’t really think it would go down like that.’

Mollie wiped her eyes and laughed, ‘No, but... you’ve got this big life. You’ve got these amazing things you’re meant to do.’

‘So do you,’ He sat back up on the bench next to her, waiting for her to curl into his side and rest her head on his shoulder as she always did. He counted to five before he felt her move, the warmth from her helping him to breathe a little easier, ‘We’ll do amazing things together. With an amazing little person, who’ll be part of us.’

Mollie sighed, ‘I just... I know you’re trying to be helpful and supportive, but I just...’

He squeezed her hand, ‘What do you need from me?’

Her dark eyes met his fully, and her nails dug into his palm as she squeezed the hand holding hers.

‘I need you to tell me you’re scared.’

Jamie laughed, that big honking laugh, his head back against the bench as the bright summer sky mocked them both, ‘You’re pregnant, we don’t have jobs and we’ve got to tell our parents we’re quitting uni to raise a kid! I’ve never been so fucking terrified in all my life! But we can be terrified together, right? That’s the one good thing about this, Moll – if we’ve got to do something hard and crazy and amazing, I’m glad you’re with me.’

***

Mollie stared at the ghost of the boy she’d once loved, the tray clattering to the floor as her hands shook. She looked at the floor, the mini quiches scattered everywhere, simply mumbling, ‘I’ll get a broom.’

She ran back through into the kitchen and doubled over, her hands clasping the side of the kitchen counter, exhaling shaky breaths desperately.

‘You can deal with this, you can deal with anything,’ Mollie mumbled to herself, over and over until it became something more than words, a hum in time with the beating of her heart.

When she finally stood straight, her shoulders back and her head held high, Mollie was ready to re-enter the room. Well, she wasn’t ready, but as long as she didn’t think, beyond ‘it’s Jamie, it’s Jamie, it’s Jamie,’ things weren’t too bad.

He looked different, she thought as she peered around the door, seeing him on his knees, picking up the pieces of pastry and throwing them back onto the fallen tray. But not that different. His light brown hair was cut short, harshly so, as though he was afraid of the curl that would arise if he let it grow. She remembered plunging her hand through that hair, soft and childlike. So like Esme’s hair when she was little. He was tanned, in that solid, even way that seemed weathered, like he’d been working in fields or outdoors. He’d never seemed like that sort, always a boffin, going off to study history. Or at least, that’s what she assumed had happened, in the end.

He looked up at her, eyes a particularly bright blue that seemed even more vibrant against his tanned skin, and smiled. Mollie almost had to catch her breath, it physically hurt to see him smile like that.

‘It’s really good to see you Molls,’ his voice was deep, a little rough like he hadn’t spoken in a while, but he sounded more well-spoken than he’d ever been. More clipped edges to his words. Why wouldn’t he stop smiling at her? Mollie thought she was going to be sick. She gripped the edge of the doorframe tighter.

‘You look exactly the same,’ he went on, standing up slowly, taking her in, ‘I saw you on the telly this morning, with your baking and that. I heard about Ruby, so I tuned in, and there you were, looking just the same...’ He trailed off, the smile freezing on his face. ‘I mean, I know things ended... well, it wasn’t great, but I was hoping, well... I just wanted to see a friendly face, I’m only back on leave for a little while, and there you were, you know? It felt, sort of... like I had to come. Maybe it was Ruby, sending a sign.’

Mollie stood there, opening her mouth every few moments, and finding nothing there. She looked at him, frustrated with herself for her silence, and then shook her head.

‘Jamie,’ she said softly, ‘Jamie. How, why? I can’t...’

Mollie felt herself crumble, as much as she wanted to remain strong, as much as that voice in her head screamed that he didn’t deserve her tears and that she was so much better than this, all she could hear was, ‘He left. He left you with a child. He promised he’d come back and he left. And now he swans in to see you because he’s lonely. The bastard! The bastard.’

‘Molls, what’s–’

The concern and surprise on his face was real, and he moved towards her, crowding her space as she struggled to breathe and the tears squeaked from her, tracking her face with marks from all that make-up she put on for the interview. She covered her eyes so that she couldn’t see the kindness in his, so much more infuriating.

‘Aren’t you going to ask about her?’ Mollie screeched suddenly, shocking herself. She watched as Jamie retreated, blinking. ‘Aren’t you even going to ask anything about her?’

He frowned, but before he could answer, the door opened once again.

‘Mum! Killian has gone to deliver some furniture, do we have... are you crying?’ Esme rushed over, her arms around her mother’s waist, ‘Are you okay? You never cry!’

Mollie wiped her face and took a deep breath, bending down so that she was face-level with her daughter, ‘That’s not true, baby, remember the beginning of Up? I cried a lot.’

‘Yeah but not...’ Esme turned to face the source of her mother’s discomfort, ‘Look, I don’t know who you are, but you’ve made my mum cry and I don’t like it, so go away!’

Jamie stepped back, but didn’t take his eyes from her, tracing the outline of her blonde hair, the curve of her lip, the vibrancy of those perfect blue eyes as she glared at him, daring him to question her.

‘How... how old are you?’ Jamie asked, his eyes not daring to move to Mollie’s.

‘Eleven,’ Esme huffed. ‘Are you listening to me? I said you need to go now, and don’t come back!’

‘Eleven?’ he whispered to himself, searching for Mollie’s eyes and holding them once she looked at him, ‘Eleven.’

‘Go! Now!’ Esme roared, and Jamie nodded numbly, moving like a marionette, falling from the studios and out into the light.

Mollie took a deep breath and shook her head. That was not the look of a man who had abandoned his girlfriend and unborn child all those years ago. That was the look of a man who never realised he had a child at all.

Chapter Three

‘So... he just stood there? Like an arsehole?’ Killian frowned as Mollie told the story.

‘What did Esme do?’ Chelsea filled up Mollie’s wine glass, then sat back down. They were sat in the conservatory, with the leftover bottles from the event that evening.

‘She told him that people don’t make her mother cry, and screamed at him to leave,’ Mollie arched an eyebrow and sucked down half the glass in two gulps, holding out for a refill.

‘So he didn’t tell her, or anything?’ Evie frowned, ‘Weird.’

Mollie hesitated, ‘I... I think he didn’t know. The way he looked at her, when he did the maths... I mean, she looks so much like him, those eyes...’

‘The cheekbones and the nose too,’ Evie added, then noticed a pained look on Mollie’s face, ‘Sorry.’

‘Hold on, how could he not know?’ Chelsea rolled her eyes, ‘I call bullshit. He was there when he got you pregnant, he was there when you told him you were pregnant, he was there when he told his parents he wasn’t going to uni, because he was going to raise this kid... did the man get hit in the head with a shovel or what?’

‘I don’t know,’ Mollie shrugged, ‘But I know what I saw. Pure shock. The way I must have looked seeing him, he looked when he saw Esme. There’s no way he knew.’

Evie ruffled her dark curls and looked at Killian, then back at her friend. ‘Molls, I don’t mean this in... I mean... do you think it’s just that you want that to be true? I mean, we all liked Jamie, he always seemed like the good guy, but... you know, here we are... he left without saying anything.’

‘He did say something, didn’t he?’ Chelsea added softly, wincing.

‘He sent me a note, it just said, “I’m sorry,” so...’ Mollie felt her cheeks burn at the humiliation, ‘Look, it’s been a long day, and I really don’t want to talk about the past any more. I just want to sleep.’

She knew as she said it that there would be no sleep for her that night, only memories that would be raked over finely, in detail, rewound and replayed to give a hint of a story, to create an alternative to the story she had so readily agreed to – that he was a bad guy who had left her. The question now, she assumed, was whether or not he would come back.

***

‘He’s staying with me,’ Mollie said staunchly, arms crossed, chin jutted, ‘We’re going to do this together.’

‘Oh baby girl,’ her mum laughed, hollow and throaty as she poured herself another gin and tonic, heavy on the gin, ‘I thought you were smarter than that. You were the one who was going to university. They don’t stay.’

‘He will, Jamie will. He’s good. He’s promised me.’

Linda laughed again, shaking her head, ‘You don’t sound old enough to raise a baby. You sound like one of those silly princesses from those kids’ stories. This is real life, angel. He’s not your Prince Charming, this isn’t your happy ever after – it’s going to be hard, you know. You don’t know how hard it is.’

‘I know it’s going to be hard, that’s why we’re doing it together. Why do you have to tear everything down and make it awful?’ Mollie pressed her lips together, willing herself not to cry in front of her mother, whose blasé attitude since she’d announced her pregnancy was making her crazy. She was sure, in that moment, she actually hated her mother; goading her, taunting her, where was the love and support other people got? Surely, even if she’d screamed at her, shown that she cared in some way, it would have been better.

‘Where is he now, Mollie, huh? Why isn’t he standing here with you?’ Linda’s dark eyes met hers and held them, a small smile in place as she knew the answer.

‘He’s gone on a final trip with his TA mates. He’s saying goodbye before everyone goes off to uni. He’s coming back, why aren’t you hearing me?’

‘Because thousands of girls have said the same thing over the years, and they’ve all been disappointed.’ Linda rolled her eyes, ‘Besides, who needs ‘em? Your dad walked as soon as the line appeared on the pregnancy test, and you turned out all right, didn’t you?’

‘It won’t be like that for us,’ Mollie insisted, ‘This baby can have two parents, who both love it, who can support each other and work hard. It’s possible.’

‘It doesn’t matter baby girl, he’s already gone.’

***

He arrived at ten a.m., shuffling and awkward, ringing the doorbell this time, as the door wasn’t open. Mollie peered from the window above, and wondered if she should pretend that no one was home.

‘You go let him in!’ she hissed at Evie, who stared blankly.

‘I can’t do that.’

‘Why?’

Evie widened her eyes, ‘Because it changes the conversation, we chat about what the other has been up to, and you don’t need that.’

Mollie deflated, and her friend squeezed her hand. ‘You’re the bravest person I know. You go get your answers. I mean, the fact that he’s here is a good start, right?’

‘Right,’ Mollie took a deep breath and thundered down the stairs, not letting her brain form thoughts. She was going to be zen, and calm, and let the answers come to her.

When she opened the door, he was leaning against the wall, eyes closed, head back. He opened his eyes as the door creaked open, and it was suddenly clear that Jamie hadn’t had any sleep that night either. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, and he looked desperate.

‘You’d better come in then,’ Mollie said, standing back from the doorway, avoiding looking into those eyes that seemed to crave something; understanding, forgiveness... something.

He didn’t move.

‘I didn’t ask her name,’ Jamie said, his voice rough and dry, ‘I left and I didn’t even ask her name. And it’s been plaguing me, all night. Why didn’t I ask? I mean, she looks just... I should have asked. And I tried to see if you were on social media, if there was any way of finding her there, but you’re not and–’

Mollie cut him off, ‘Her name is Esme. Esme Louisa Williams.’

Jamie’s face crumpled, ‘Louisa was my grandmother’s name. The only family member I liked.’

‘I remember,’ Mollie said shortly. ‘Are you coming in or not?’

‘Why would you, if you thought... why would you give her that name?’

Mollie took a deep breath and met his eyes, ‘Jamie, we both have a lot of questions we need to ask each other, and you blubbering on my doorstep is not helping. Now can you come inside so we can be British and awkward and talk about it over tea, please?’

He nodded, and followed her through to the kitchen, hovering in silence as she put the kettle on and clattered with mugs. Mollie focused on her breathing, on the ritual of tea-making. She set out a tray, filled a pot, got out the red polka dot mugs she’d found at a car boot sale and a tray of biscuits that she’d made a few days before. Peach snaps. Something to crunch on so she didn’t say everything that was rolling around inside her head.

‘I’ll take it,’ Jamie said quietly, and picked up the tray, waiting for her to tell him where to go. She led him through to the conservatory.

They sat in silence as she poured the tea, her hands trembling just a little as she pushed the mug over to him. Mollie took this time to look at him, truly look at him, the sad man staring into his tea, his sharper features removing any softness that was once there. He wasn’t the same. The old Jamie fidgeted endlessly, he was always moving, always making noise. This man looked like he could impersonate a statue. The only way she could tell he was impatient was the little movements his mouth was making, like he wanted to talk and had to keep stopping himself.

‘I don’t even know where to start,’ Mollie said suddenly.

‘We could ask a question each?’ he offered, smiling hesitantly. The smile was the same. When he smiled he looked like a boy again. The same boy who promised her he would quit university and raise a child with her. She looked away.

‘So... Esme’s mine,’ Jamie started.

‘Is that meant to be your question?’ Mollie rolled her eyes, ‘It’s pretty bloody obvious, I mean, you saw her. She looks like you.’

‘She looks a lot like you too,’ he smiled. ‘All that blonde hair.’

‘Well, biology,’ Mollie shrugged, trying to keep her guard up, ‘So you’re saying you didn’t know she existed?’

‘Is that meant to be your question?’ Jamie copied her tone, ‘Do I look like someone who knew he had an eleven-year-old daughter?’

‘No,’ Mollie conceded. ‘Do I get another question now?’

Jamie shrugged, clearly not pleased about how this was going.

‘How could you be surprised? How could you be shocked that you had a daughter, when on the day we found out, you held my hand and told me our life would be amazing? How could you possibly not know you had a daughter when we made a plan to raise her together? You let me down.’

‘So that’s why you left?’ Jamie’s voice was thick.

‘I left?’

They sat in silence, staring at each other.

‘I feel like we’re having two different conversations,’ Jamie mumbled, rubbing a tired face with his hand.

‘Two different worlds.’

They sipped their tea, letting the quiet settle around them once again.

‘I called my parents last night, wondering if they knew I had a daughter. My mother told me to stop being so ridiculous, that surely I would know about it. There was something in her voice... she knew. She knew this whole time.’

His voice dripped bitterness.

‘Did they not stay in Badgeley? They would have seen me, seen Ez around town, wouldn’t they?’ Mollie frowned, trying to put it together. ‘I tried... I went there once but... the house was empty...’

‘Ez,’ Jamie smiled briefly, before shaking his head. ‘No, they left not long after I did. They were just waiting for the final kid to leave before they could move. They live in Kent. Did you... did you stay in Badgeley?’

Mollie made a face, ‘Where else was I going to go with a kid to raise?’

‘I thought you’d gone to Bristol, to uni, like the original plan.’

She shrugged, ‘I suppose if I’d looked into the possibilities of university life with a baby, maybe I would have. But it seemed too difficult. I stayed at home. And then, after Ruby died, she left us this place, and so we moved, me and Evie and Esme. To build a new home.’

He looked around, ‘It seems like you’re doing amazing things.’

‘Have you got other kids? A family?’ Mollie heard herself ask, and pretended it was just for Esme’s sake, a question that needed to be asked.

‘No, nothing like that,’ he shrugged, slurping his tea, more relaxed now that they were talking, ‘I’m in the army. Just got back from a tour in Afghanistan. I was out there longer than usual, so I’ve been encouraged to take a little more time on leave, get my head straight before I hear about my next assignment.’

‘Oh.’

‘Oh?’ Jamie smiled, ‘Not what you were expecting?’

‘No, I thought you’d be a history lecturer or something, working at a museum, something... you know, boring,’ Mollie allowed herself a small smile, annoyed at herself, but it was hard to stop it, especially looking at the man in front of her, so unexpected, so different from that boy who loved books and the past. He’d made it as a cool kid, though, Jamie. Maybe because he was a good fighter, but mainly because he wasn’t afraid to laugh at himself. And because he’d been kind.

‘I studied history,’ Jamie sighed, nodding, ‘not at York, but... yeah, anyway, it didn’t seem... I don’t know. I carried on with the TA, joined the army. And here I am.’

Mollie frowned, ‘That’s the last thing I’d ever expect from you.’

‘Yeah, wasn’t where I thought I’d end up either,’ his smile faded.

The silence settled once again, and this time it bugged Mollie, ‘If you’re going to ask, just ask.’

Jamie didn’t even question what she meant, ‘I want to meet her. I want to know her, and know about her life and I want her to know me. I want to apologise to her for not being there. I want to be with her as much as I can...’

‘...before you fly back out to god knows where.’ Mollie finished, pointedly. ‘Do you think that’s fair on a child? She’s done well without a father for all these years. You want to offer her one, but then you want to disappear again in two months?’

‘I don’t want to disappear at all! It might be longer than two months, I’ve got to work with a shrink and they’ll assess when I’m ready to go back.’

‘So now you’re in therapy... you’re giving me more reasons to say no, Jamie,’ Mollie shrugged, ‘Look, I don’t know you. Esme doesn’t know you. You want to turn up and play dad, well, that’s not really how parenting works. Trust me, I’ve been doing it for a while.’

‘It’s not my fault she doesn’t know me!’ Jamie frowned, ‘If I’d known...’

‘If you’d known...’ Mollie frowned, her hand gripping the edge of the table. ‘Whose fault is it? What do you think happened, Jay? What made you leave and go off and live your life, if you didn’t suddenly decide it was too much sacrifice?’

‘You lost the baby!’ Jamie yelled, ‘That’s what she said. You’d lost it whilst I was away at that TA thing, and it was horrible and stressful for you, but you just wanted a clean break. You wanted a fresh start in Bristol, and if I loved you at all, I would give you that. You didn’t want to see me, it was too painful. That’s what they told me.’

‘Who? Who told you that?’

‘Your mum,’ Jamie shrugged, ‘and Ruby.’

Mollie wasn’t sure which betrayal was worse.

She looked at him, incredulous.

‘And you believed them? You just trotted back home, nodding your head, thinking “sure, that’s the opposite of everything Mollie has ever said to me, but whatever” right?’ Mollie felt her voice growing hoarse as she yelled, clutching the handle of her mug so hard she was scared it would snap. She felt the warm ceramic beneath her fingertips, her only lifeline.

‘I was broken, Molls, I... I’d dropped out of my uni applications, I’d made plans for us, my parents were angry...’

‘Oh, well if they were angry...’ Mollie rolled her eyes, gritting her teeth, ‘Why would you listen to them? And Ruby? Why would Ruby, of all people, the person who was helping me, supporting me...’

‘Because she told me I had to pass the stupid test!’ Jamie erupted, putting the mug down on the table, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘She said I’d passed the boyfriend test, but if I really loved you, I’d think about what was best for you, for your pain, not my pain. That I’d let you go, that I’d let you live the best life you could. She said I made you weak. That you’d care more about how I felt than yourself.’ Jamie looked up, ‘And she’s right. You were that person. You loved me more than you loved yourself. You would have given up everything for me. It was the right thing to do.’

Mollie felt her stomach collapse, wrenching around her torso, looking at him with pure rage, ‘This is my fault? I loved you too much? I was too selfless?’ Mollie put her hand to her forehead, ‘You were MY WORLD! And you thought that if I’d lost our child, I’D WANT TO BE ALONE? ARE YOU A MORON? DID YOU KNOW ME AT ALL?’

Jamie looked up at her as she towered over him, hands clenched, face red and puffy.

‘I guess not.’

***

‘You got another parcel,’ her mother threw it on the bed and trundled back down the hallway, a trail of smoke following her.

‘I’ve told you not to smoke in here!’

‘And I’ve told you to get your own place if you don’t like it!’ Linda replied, slamming the door.

The baby started crying, a high pitched wail that made Mollie want to cry with her. She was so little, the littlest, most perfect thing Mollie had ever seen. She held her daughter close to her, staring into those light blue eyes and desperately hoping they’d change as she got older, that they wouldn’t look so much like his. It hurt to look at those eyes sometimes.

‘Esme! We’ve got post! Shall we see who it’s from?’ She jiggled the baby between arms so she could settle on the bed and tear open the package. At times like this, she held her breath, allowing a brief moment of hope, that maybe it was Jay, that he’d sent her a letter explaining, apologising. That there was some sort of explanation that left him blameless, that he would come back for her and they could be a family. It was a lot of dreaming to fit into the three seconds before she opened the parcel.

It was Ruby. Ruby was the only one who sent her things, because she was the only one who knew she was still at home. Chelsea was sucked into Oxford life the minute she left, and Evie had tried hard, but eventually, she’d given up too, and Mollie couldn’t blame her. She didn’t give anything back, didn’t ask questions about club nights and societies, because she was more focused on her daughter’s sleep pattern. Not that she said any of that.

‘What’s Auntie Ruby sent us this time, Ez, hey? What ridiculous thing has she sent for you?’

Ruby’s gifts were always age inappropriate and silly, things she must have got from the corner shop. This time, it was a red yo-yo, some crayons and a little pot of bubbles. The note was written on a scrap of paper, scribbled in Ruby’s beautifully swirly writing:

Dear Mollie (and Baby),

I hope you’re not getting these, because you’ve moved out of the dung heap that is Badgeley. I hope you’ve moved somewhere beautiful, away from your mum, where you get to raise your child how you want to. I hope you’re happy, even if you’re sleep deprived and cranky.

I met a producer last week, she thinks I have talent (yes, “she”! So it’s not just another one of those pervy old men who say I have talent and actually mean they hope I’m talented in bed!) and I get to get in the studio next week, to show her what I can do. So send me all your best wishes and good thoughts next week.

I’m sorry I don’t really have a proper address yet, when I do, maybe you can come and visit with the munchkin. Maybe I’ll know some fabulous people by then who’ll see you and instantly want you on stage! Your fairy tale is on its way, gorgeous girl.

Give the baby a kiss from Auntie Ruby.

Love,

R

x

Mollie traced the words with a smile once more, and folded up the letter.

‘Auntie Ruby will never have an address, little one, she’s not that sort. Plus, she loves the one-sidedness of this, the power. I’m her invisible therapist, aren’t I darling?’ Mollie rocked Esme back and forth, ‘But that’s okay, it’s fun to get post, isn’t it?’

Mollie screwed open the small bottle of bubbles, and gently blew through the hoop, creating a perfect trail of tiny, rainbow bubbles, each floating above Esme’s head and catching her attention, briefly eliciting a joyous smile.

‘The Mollie she’s writing to doesn’t exist any more,’ she told her daughter, eyes wide in awe as the bubbles burst, ‘but that’s okay, because you do.’

***

‘Okay,’ Mollie took a deep breath and sat down again, ‘let’s start over. My mother told you I’d had a miscarriage. When?’

‘The day I came back from that TA trip, I came to see you, and you weren’t there. Your mum said you’d lost the baby, and you’d managed to get back your spot in Bristol, so you’d gone to see it again, spend a week there.’

Mollie hovered between outrage that her mother could do something like that, and renewed irritation that Jamie would be stupid enough to believe it.

‘I... what, so you just left?’

‘No, I hung around for hours, waiting outside, and then I spoke to Ruby.’

‘Hadn’t she already left then?’ Mollie was trying to keep the timelines straight, that lifetime ago, how they could have missed each other.

‘Nope, she disappeared pretty soon after though. I thought maybe it was to do with the questions I kept asking. She wasn’t a great shoulder to cry on.’

Mollie shook her head, refusing to believe that a few moments of intersection, missed communication, meant that this man had disappeared from her life.

‘Mum’d sent me to my grandma’s for the week,’ Mollie said suddenly, ‘insisting the old bird was sick, but she was the same as she ever was, bossy cow, and I couldn’t understand why she’d sent me there.’

‘Guess now we know why...’ Jamie swallowed and sighed.

Mollie’s hands shook at the unfairness of it all. She was done screaming, for now, but she felt overwhelmed with sadness. She wanted to cry, to ask him every question running through her head. Why didn’t you fight harder, why didn’t you question it? Why didn’t you try to find me, to say goodbye? Why were you so bloody trusting? We could have had a life. But looking at him, Mollie wasn’t sure she could have had a life with this man. Sure, he was gorgeous, with that tanned skin, those taut cheekbones and light eyes. He was lean but solid, and as soon as he’d said he was in the army, she could see it, in the straightness of his back and the way his arms rested, never quite relaxed.

He coughed a little and rubbed his hand across his face, ‘You know, it’s the strangest feeling. I feel like I’m mourning this life I could have had. This...’ he gestured around him. ‘Maybe I could have been here, been useful, been part of it. And I lost it because I listened... because I trusted. I thought they wanted to protect you, they’d never hurt you... I thought Ruby was on our side... If I’d just come back, if I’d ignored them...’