‘We’ll be quick then,’ he said into his pillow, pulling the duvet over his head. ‘G’night.’

The way I saw it, I had two choices.

The first was to scream at the top of my lungs, break something expensive, and possibly beat Stew to death with a shoe. The second was to close my eyes, count to ten, and bury my rage so deep down inside that I forgot all about it until it resurfaced in ten years and I went on a mad spree at the supermarket, pushing over the pastry cases and hurling packets of ham at poor unsuspecting shoppers. It wasn’t much of a choice.

Besides, I didn’t want to argue, not really. I just wanted him to listen to me.

Outside, I heard a car pass in front of the house, its tyres slick from the rain, and watched its headlights slip through the gap between the curtains and dance across our popcorn ceiling. I pulled my pyjamas out from underneath my pillow as Stew began to snore.

‘Goodnight, Stew,’ I whispered as I closed the door behind me and tiptoed across the creaky landing to the spare room.

CHAPTER THREE

‘Stew?’ I called, as I stumbled into the kitchen next morning. He wasn’t in our bedroom, he wasn’t in the bathroom, and there was no trace of him in the living room. Instead of my fiancé, I found a note on the kitchen table.

Gone to Bryony’s to fix her sink, CU tonight

I stared at it, turning the scrap of paper over in my hands and holding it up to the light, looking for a secret message, some acrostic code or something written in invisible ink as I sank into one of the chairs that slotted underneath the Formica table. But just like Stew, it was what it was.

‘Right,’ I said to absolutely no one. ‘That’s that then.’

Picking up the pen he had left on the table, I crossed out his straightforward printing and wrote my own message underneath, my early morning letters looping gracelessly against each other.

Gone to Bryony’s to fix her sink, CU tonight

Gone to London to fix my life, see you next Tuesday

Even though I loved Sheffield, I did miss London.

My train was late, the tube was packed, and I’d almost been run over three times but I didn’t care. She was gritty and grimy and perfect to me. While there was a lot to be said for the comfort of a routine, I had a London-shaped hole in my heart that could only be filled by her particular brand of predictable unpredictability. She might not be my soulmate, but there was nowhere quite like London town for a quick and dirty fling.

‘Watch where you’re going, you wanker,’ screeched a motorcycle courier as I stepped into the street at the exact same moment his bike tore around the corner.