She squinted at the small photograph onscreen beside his name, before putting on her reading glasses to make absolutely sure. Thomas Naylor! It was him, her very first boyfriend – she recognized him immediately, despite the salt-and-pepper hair he now sported at the temples, because there was his dear wide smile, those laughing grey eyes and yes, the same cute jug-ears he’d had as a teenager. ‘Well, I never,’ she murmured, feeling a blush surging in her cheeks. He’d sent her a message, she noticed, and she opened it, heart pounding:

Dear Ali,

Has it really been forty-eight years? I don’t know where the time goes. I was listening to the radio the other day – one of those ‘Golden Oldies’ shows, you know – and our song came on. (‘Our what?’ you’re probably thinking. ‘Who is this old codger anyway?’) Well, I’m talking about ‘Without You’ by Nilsson, and suddenly there I was, back in Queen’s Park with you, and a young man of seventeen again.

Alison had to blink a few times, because she was finding all of this hard to process. Queen’s Park, with Tom Naylor. Warm spring days, daffodils and cherry blossom, and ‘Without You’ – their song – playing from every café radio and car stereo for weeks on end. Of course she remembered it. Of course she remembered him.

Ali Brealey, I thought to myself. Whatever happened to that lovely Ali Brealey? So I had a little look – had to get my grandson to help me, to be honest, he’s much better at these Internet things than me – and here you are; or, rather, here’s Ali Tremayne, as I see you are nowadays.

Well, Ali Tremayne, I hope you’ve had a good life. I hope the world’s been kind to you! And if you’re listening to the radio one day and ‘Without You’ comes on, I hope you’ll remember me as fondly as I remember you.

Love from your old pal Tom

Alison realized that she’d put a hand up to her heart. Her mouth had fallen open, like a trapdoor swinging. Tom Naylor, the one who’d got away! He’d joined the navy and they’d split up (oh, the buckets she had wept!) and then, by the time he came back, she was going out with Rich and the two of them were talking about setting up home together and moving to the Midlands for Rich’s new job. Tom Naylor, though. Oh my. Was he still in Bournemouth? Was he married? Was this her reward from the universe for selling Rich’s car, at long last?