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Chapters (86)
  1. Title Page
  2. CONTENTS
  3. Love
  4. Before
  5. One
  6. ONE
  7. Two
  8. TWO
  9. Three
  10. THREE
  11. Four
  12. FOUR
  13. Five
  14. FIVE
  15. Six
  16. SIX
  17. Seven
  18. SEVEN
  19. Eight
  20. EIGHT
  21. Nine
  22. NINE
  23. Ten
  24. TEN
  25. Eleven
  26. ELEVEN
  27. After
  28. One
  29. ONE
  30. Two
  31. TWO
  32. Three
  33. THREE
  34. Four
  35. FOUR
  36. Five
  37. FIVE
  38. Six
  39. SIX
  40. Seven
  41. SEVEN
  42. Eight
  43. EIGHT
  44. Nine
  45. NINE
  46. Ten
  47. TEN
  48. Eleven
  49. ELEVEN
  50. Twelve
  51. TWELVE
  52. Thirteen
  53. THIRTEEN
  54. Fourteen
  55. FOURTEEN
  56. Fifteen
  57. FIFTEEN
  58. Sixteen
  59. SIXTEEN
  60. Seventeen
  61. SEVENTEEN
  62. Eighteen
  63. EIGHTEEN
  64. Nineteen
  65. NINETEEN
  66. Twenty
  67. TWENTY
  68. Twenty-One
  69. TWENTY-ONE
  70. Twenty-Two
  71. TWENTY-TWO
  72. Twenty-Three
  73. TWENTY-THREE
  74. Twenty-Four
  75. TWENTY-FOUR
  76. Twenty-Five
  77. TWENTY-FIVE
  78. Twenty-Six
  79. TWENTY-SIX
  80. Twenty-Seven
  81. TWENTY-SEVEN
  82. Twenty-Eight
  83. TWENTY-EIGHT
  84. Eleven Months Later
  85. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  86. Copyright

The nearest I’ve ever been to the French Riviera – or France in general – is a croissant from the Real Patisserie, and it’s as close as I’m ever likely to get. But for whatever reason, our paths crossed today – call it luck or fate or good old-fashioned magic – and they’re about to part, never to cross again. I mean, it’s not like I’m going to bump into her at Lidl or waiting for the 1A, is it? This is it, I know, as the boat docks. She’ll just be that girl I think about sometimes when I look out at the wind farm or when I eat a croissant.

‘Here.’ Poppy takes my phone out of my hand so suddenly, I don’t have a chance to object. When she gives it back, I look at the screen to find that she’s added her number to my contacts. ‘If you ever feel like jumping,’ she says, the corners of her mouth twitching mischievously when I look up again. ‘Or a coffee.’

My chest hurts for a different reason this time because I want to see her again – I really want to see her again – and she wants to see me and that never happens. I don’t know what to say, so I just smile back as she winks at me. I watch her turn and walk away, her hips swinging and her hair ablaze, and I wonder if there are words for how this feels but I don’t know what they are yet.

Two

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TWO

Now I feel woozy for an entirely different reason as I make my way off the boat to look for Adara. My phone is still in my hand and as I look down at it, it’s all I can do not to message Poppy immediately. I don’t know how I stop myself, because every thought in my head has been burned away and replaced with her. Every thought, every sound. The seagulls squeal her name while the waves pull back and forth, back and forth, whispering it in that careful, hushed tone Adara and I use when we’re in the library. Even my heart, which is throbbing so furiously I can hear it in my ears, seems to be saying it in the space between heartbeats.

Poppy.

Beat.

Poppy.

Beat.

Poppy.

When I find Adara on the dock, she grins and hugs me tightly.

‘You OK?’ she asks when she steps back. ‘Happy to be back on dry land?’