Oxford Street stretched out in front of her as she emerged from the underground at Marble Arch. It would be Mother’s Day on Sunday, the first she had ever spent apart from her mum. She wouldn’t be able to turn up on her doorstep with the usual bunch of daffodils and a box of her favourite coffee creams, but if she was quick enough she could find her a nice present, wrap it and get it into the post in time.

It was fun exploring the big department stores, riding the escalators, taking armfuls of clothes into assorted changing rooms and parading in front of mirrors. By two o’clock she was laden down with bags and her stomach was telling her it was time for a very late but desperately needed lunch.

She sat in a burger bar, at a small table in the window, working her way through a super-sized meal and a huge strawberry milkshake, and watching the crowds go by. Men in business suits, women trying to negotiate the bustling pavement while pushing prams and shopping trolleys, Japanese tourists huddled in groups taking selfies. So many people, and mid-week too. She could hardly imagine what this street must be like on a Saturday, or in the days leading up to Christmas.

For a fleeting moment she missed the village, its quiet lanes and sleepy pace of life, the uninterrupted green spaces and big open skies. When she peered upwards out of the window now, all she could see were buildings and streetlights and a dull all-over greyness that could have been anything from air pollution to dirty windows to clouds. But being here was new and different – and different was exciting. When had she ever done anything truly exciting before? She had finally managed to prise herself away and climb out of her rut. She must not forget that, even if it was only a temporary escape. And, most importantly, she was away from Joe. Joe, who she had foolishly believed was her future, but she was beginning to realise was the one thing that had been dragging her down and anchoring her so securely to the past.

She had tried to move on from him once before, to test the romantic waters with someone else, and it had worked for a while. Joe had been gone for months, years, head down and working hard for his degree, and his calls and visits home had become less and less frequent until they had dwindled almost to nothing. She should have known then that he was not as into her as she was into him, that he was in no hurry to rush back to her, but she had made excuses for him, to other people and to herself, kidded herself that he was doing it for the right reasons, solid career-building reasons, and that everything would change and be okay again once he was back for good. But he hadn’t come back, heading straight off to Leeds with one of his uni roommates as soon as he graduated, grabbing the first job he was offered.