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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

Deborah was right, of course, because there’s Veronica, leaning over the edge, one hand on the railing and a can of spray paint in her other as she writes something on the side of the bridge. I can’t see what it is from here, but I can’t help but wonder if she’s the one that wrote JUST KISS HER under the bridge by the station.

The one Poppy and I had our first kiss under.

She’s on her tiptoes now, so far over the railing that I have to stop myself charging forward to grab her waist as she lifts her right foot off the ground. Then she’s gone, arms first, then her feet, like an Olympic diver ready to pierce the pool beneath. There’s a beat, then another, and finally, I hear it, the shrill shriek of metal hitting metal, of something hitting something it shouldn’t, followed by the snap of breaking glass as the cars beneath the bridge screech to a halt. Then car alarms and someone pumping on their horn – and then, finally, there it is.

POP.

The first firework of the year.

I know I should be relieved because this is what I wanted, right? For her to stay so I could go. But as Veronica looks up at the fireworks fizzing over our heads, scattering shards of coloured light across the sky, she looks like a little kid. She’s in utter awe of them, her mouth smoothing to a smile so big, I suddenly feel unreasonably, unreachably sad because how can I be happy about her dying like this?

It’s such a waste.

Finally, she turns, and when she sees me, she takes a step back.

‘Veronica Price?’

The crease between her eyebrows deepens. ‘How do you know my name?’

‘I’m Ash.’

She stares at me, so I nod at her. It takes her a moment, but when she realises that I’m gesturing at her to look over the railing, she does, but she doesn’t let out a wail, like Alice Anderson did, she just turns to face me again.

‘Are you—’ She stops to eye me suspiciously. ‘Are you an angel?’

‘Not quite,’ I tell her as I reach my hand out to her. ‘Come on. There’s some people I’d like you to meet.’

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We walk in silence, Veronica as woozy and compliant as all the others, and I wonder if I was like this with Dev.

If I just followed her without question.