‘Gah!’ she screamed, understanding that she really did have to ask him. He’d once told her he wanted to stay in London forever if he could, that he couldn’t bear the thought of moving again, but it didn’t matter what he said in response – life was too short not to ask. She knew that all too well, and she knew better than to think a connection like this could happen more than a handful of times in a person’s life. She bet that there were people out there for whom a connection like this had never happened and what? She wasn’t going to trust enough in it to turn around and at least enquire?

A car behind her honked and she made her choice. She pulled out onto the road in a right-hand swing that meant she had enough room to U-turn back down the road she’d just come from. Penny was only driving at fifteen miles per hour but she felt like she was hitting a hundred for all the adrenaline coursing through her.

‘This is crazy …’ she rehearsed under her breath. ‘Francesco! Come with me!’ she practised.

The car made the last corner turn back to Bridges and she could see him still out on the street in front. ‘I’m coming!’ she said under her breath. But then she could see that there was another person with him – a woman. She had long, wild, curly hair and skin the colour of a polished walnut. The woman was gesticulating with her hands and Francesco was gesticulating back, and in the middle of the road, far enough from them not to be able to hear but close enough to be able to see, Penny watched as the woman pushed her face against Francesco’s. Penny slowed to a halt. She waited for Francesco to pull away, for this to have been a mistake, for him to turn around and see her and understand that she’d done it – she’d come back for him. But that’s not what happened. Their faces stayed pressed together, and Francesco moved to push the woman up against the wall beside the café – Penny’s café – and before Penny could unpick the who or the what or the why or the how, she’d put the gear stick into reverse, checked her mirrors, and edged back around the corner to speed, as fast as she could, towards the M1 north. By the time she’d reached Toddington Services she’d convinced herself that she’d known all along Francesco would break her heart, and she was relieved she’d found out the truth about him sooner rather than later.

Deciding to hate him was the only thing that finally stopped her crying.

10

Six Months Later, in November

‘Service!’ Penny called out from behind the pass, where four plates were lined up, ready to be delivered to the table they called Bar Four.