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Back Fancy Meeting You Here Save as PDF
Chapters (52)
  1. COVER PAGE
  2. DEDICATION
  3. PART ONE
  4. ONE
  5. TWO
  6. THREE
  7. FOUR
  8. FIVE
  9. SIX
  10. SEVEN
  11. EIGHT
  12. NINE
  13. TEN
  14. ELEVEN
  15. TWELVE
  16. THIRTEEN
  17. FOURTEEN
  18. FIFTEEN
  19. SIXTEEN
  20. SEVENTEEN
  21. EIGHTEEN
  22. PART TWO
  23. NINETEEN
  24. TWENTY
  25. TWENTY-ONE
  26. TWENTY-TWO
  27. TWENTY-THREE
  28. TWENTY-FOUR
  29. TWENTY-FIVE
  30. TWENTY-SIX
  31. TWENTY-SEVEN
  32. TWENTY-EIGHT
  33. TWENTY-NINE
  34. THIRTY
  35. THIRTY-ONE
  36. THIRTY-TWO
  37. THIRTY-THREE
  38. THIRTY-FOUR
  39. THIRTY-FIVE
  40. THIRTY-SIX
  41. THIRTY-SEVEN
  42. THIRTY-EIGHT
  43. THIRTY-NINE
  44. FORTY
  45. FORTY-ONE
  46. FORTY-TWO
  47. FORTY-THREE
  48. FORTY-FOUR
  49. FORTY-FIVE
  50. FORTY-SIX
  51. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  52. ABOUT THE AUTHORS

Evie sat up, switching on her bedside lamp. What if she could redo her twenties with a thirty-year-old perspective, and finally make something of herself? She scrunched her face up in the way that always made Ben laugh. Why now? she wondered again. What had been so special about this year, of all the thirty-odd years she’d lived?

Checking the date on her phone, Evie’s heart started thudding. She was in her first year of university; she still had a little longer until she deferred. She was also yet to be burned by the disappointment of numerous dud dates, heartbreak and her ongoing friends-with-benefits arrangement with EverReady Freddy. And, as it suddenly occurred to her, if all the interviews and profiles of Hugo Hearst she’d obsessively pored over were correct, he would still be a regular at his favourite cafe in Primrose Hill—Deja Brew—where he’d be working on his soon-to-be-finished bestselling first novel, Henrietta’s Gift.

Evie smiled. A giant, glittering smile. Maybe, just maybe, being thrust back into her past wouldn’t be so terrible after all.

FIVE

Five

‘Hi. I’m Evie.’

‘Hello, can I buy you a drink?’

Evie silently brainstormed her opening line as she walked down Camden High Street. She couldn’t believe she was about to meet the Hugo Hearst. Then again, she reminded herself, he wasn’t yet the Hugo Hearst. He was just a twenty-eight-year-old humble actor-slash-writer from Surrey, working on his debut novel.

Wearing low-rise jeans, an oversized belt, ballet flats and toothin eyebrows (in hindsight, the fashion of her early twenties had been truly terrible), Evie practically skipped down the street, her worries about how, why and what she was doing back here much less intense. She took in the colourful clothing shops that had since shut down and the bus stop adverts for movies that had come out a decade ago. Some small part of her wished that the Ben of the future, the one who’d been so sceptical about Maximilian, could be here with her. She would grab him by the cheeks and say, ‘I can’t believe you ever doubted that crazy psychic! Because of him, I’m exactly where I need to be!’

Evie took her phone out of her bag and tapped the tiny screen.

image Evie: Hey Ben. Sorry about running off yesterday. I wasn’t well. Feeling a lot better now. Xxxx

image Ben: Glad to hear it x

Evie thought about telling Ben what was going on, but it was just too crazy. How could anybody—even her best friend—believe her?