Evie twirled herself around a lamppost. It was so good to be able to take the confidence she’d acquired over the intervening years back to her early twenties. She’d just regained a whole decade of her life and the chance of a do-over with the benefit of hindsight. Plus, she had so much secret information about the future—who knew what she could do with it? Hiking up her skinny jeans for what felt like the hundredth time that morning and longing for the supportive feeling of high-rise denim, Evie turned into Regents Park Road. As she neared Deja Brew, she suddenly felt a rush of nerves. What was her game play here? She wished she had her Airpods so she could listen to some serious pump-up music. A little bit of Lizzo would definitely get her going. I wonder what Lizzo is doing right now? she thought. She vaguely remembered reading that the singer had lived out of her car while she was trying to break into the music industry. Evie wished she could tell her the best was yet to come!

She walked past a beauty salon and then a patisserie; men in cable knit pullovers and women in vintage trench coats rushed around her. It was funny how, just metres from Camden High Street, the people here were so different. Less swagger, more swish. Some things hadn’t changed.

Evie spotted the navy-blue Deja Brew sign and stopped, her confidence suddenly dissipating. She turned on her heel, ready to walk away, her mind buzzing. She took some deep breaths and went through the exercises her psychologist had taught her for pushing negative thoughts away. Inhale. Exhale. If only she could do a downward dog in the middle of the footpath. With one last determined exhale, she flattened down her unruly fringe, stepped into the cafe and scanned the tables for Hugo. But the cafe was virtually empty.

Damn it.

Disappointed, she sat down at the table next to the one where she knew Hugo had been photographed, and pulled his favourite book, Mila 18, out of her bag to read.

When a waiter approached to take her order, she asked for a steaming cup of hot chocolate (Hugo’s drink of choice) and went back to waiting.

Groups of people came and went as the hours passed, and she ordered three more cups of hot chocolate. She could barely concentrate on Mila 18—which she’d long since read and loved.

Just as she was about to give up, the cafe door chimed, and there he was. Hugo Hearst. His face looking so much younger, but as striking as ever.

Evie watched surreptitiously as he greeted several of the staff, then nodded and smiled when the barista asked if he wanted his usual, before strolling over to the table next to her, his movements steady and assured.