She pulled the phone out of her bag, flicked it on and stared at it. No need for a charger. It had not been touched for days, so it still had plenty of life in it. And three missed calls. All from her mum. Nothing from Joe at all. She closed her eyes and sighed. This was exactly what she had wanted to avoid. Thinking about Joe, waiting for him to call, hoping he would apologise, worrying that he might be waiting for her to apologise. They were supposed to be friends, and friends should be able to deal with anything. Anything but that, obviously. They should be able to laugh it off, kiss and make up. Well, maybe not kiss. Not any more. She didn’t often swear but oh bugger! She had come here to get herself away from all that misplaced expectation and the sickening feeling of disappointment, and it was time she pulled herself together and got on with her life the way it was destined to be from now on. Without him in it.

She clicked on her messages. One voicemail. Mum again. She knew exactly what it would say. Where are you? Why did you run away? Are you eating properly? When are you coming home? Maybe she should just hear her out, get it over with. But no. She had come here to free herself of that life for a whole month, to get away from all their sympathy and their questions, no matter how well-meaning, and that was what she was going to do.

She wrote a two-word text. I’m fine. Then she added a row of crosses as kisses, pressed send, quickly turned the phone off again and made a promise to herself. She would try to look at it just once a day, and her emails too, last thing before she went to bed, to reassure herself that nothing dramatic, nothing life or death, had happened and that she could sleep easy, but that was all. Minimal contact, and definitely no letting slip where she was so they could come after her and try to take her back. A month away from it all meant just that and, apart from being separated from Flo, she was really looking forward to it.

Considering that it was still early March, the weather was surprisingly good. After a cup of tea and a bowl of cereal, Prue headed back out, taking the street map she had printed off before she had left home, a rolled-up mac in case of rain and her favourite camera in her big professional camera bag. It would be heavy to lug about all day, but she fancied taking some proper photos today. Not just snaps, but good photos of a London she had yet to explore, maybe taken from some unusual viewpoints and angles. Real hang-on-the-wall photos, if only she had any wall space left where she could put them. And where better to start than at the palace? She had promised herself the full Christopher Robin changing the guard experience and, if she was lucky, there might be horses. She had always enjoyed photographing horses. And the royal family, although the chances of spotting one of the princes chugging up the drive, or the Queen pottering in her garden, were admittedly remote.