Chapters (46)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Prologue
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-One
- Chapter Thirty-Two
- Chapter Thirty-Three
- Chapter Thirty-Four
- Chapter Thirty-Five
- Chapter Thirty-Six
- Chapter Thirty-Seven
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Also by Jenny Colgan
- About the Publisher
“Really?” said Skylar sweetly. “Because I was just speaking to him, and he didn’t mention you at all. Bye!”
Chapter Twenty-Six
The dream came again, creeping up on her: the train, the woman, the tunnel, the scream.
She sat bolt upright in bed, waiting for her breathing to calm down. There was no possibility of sleep now.
Miserably, she grabbed her phone, even though she knew it wasn’t good for her. Ugh—Skylar was so pretty and perfect and smug all the fricking time—and she couldn’t even moan to Sofia about it. In fact, if it came to it, she wasn’t sure Sofia wouldn’t pick Skylar over her any day of the week.
But she didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to go home. She liked her job, she realized. She was good at it. The shop was doing well and it looked beautiful. And she liked the children. Very much. But what else did she have? After Christmas, when everything would disappear?
She clasped her phone like it was a teddy bear or a security blanket. At least Blair provided a little excitement, she thought.
“Put your T-shirt on or you’ll burn,” she typed.
“I’m naturally tanned” was his response.
She smiled to herself. “You massive liar. I bet you have your own tent and everything.”
“Why are you the only person in the world that doesn’t think I’m amazing? Everyone in LA thinks I am FABULOUS.”
“
”
“Well, they do.”
“Well, they don’t. It’s just Hollywood BS.”
“How on EARTH would you know that? Have you ever even left that tiny place you live in?”
“You mean one of the great and ancient beautiful cities in the whole of history? Or do you mean Billericay, where you’re from?”
“You read my book!”
“Durr, no. Just the blurb.”
“Send me a pic. I’m lonely.”
She took a picture of the teddy bear one of the kids had left at the end of the bed. It was wearing a nurse’s uniform.
“Saucy.”
“Thanks.”
“You should probably shave.”
“Sexist.”
“It wasn’t the bear bum I had in mind.”
Carmen smiled, hugged her phone closer in her cold hands.
“Go on—send me a real pic.”
Carmen frowned to herself. No. This definitely—no. She thought about it. Angling, good lighting. No.
“I think you’ve got the wrong room,” she typed.
“
”
“Go on . . .”
She took the bottom off the nurse’s uniform of the bear, sent a picture of the bear’s arse, turned off her phone, and, to her surprise, fell asleep.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
She was super-nice the following morning in case Sofia suspected she’d fallen out with Skylar.
“I should take the kids on a Christmas trip, don’t you think?” she said when the children were still upstairs.