Back Where The Story Starts
Chapters (65)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  3. CONTENTS
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. BOOK CLUB QUESTIONS
  64. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  65. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

‘Well, Hector obviously hasn’t noticed, and I told Mummy that I was doing some research on university courses at the library.’

‘Aren’t you a bit too old for that?’ I asked, although a tiny part of me pricked up and wondered whether maybe I could go to university, too. We were the same age, after all.

‘Well, quite possibly,’ she said, and the tiny excited part of me slumped back down again. ‘But it was the best I could come up with on the spot. Listen, I’m working tonight, and I was wondering if you wanted to come in for a bit. I can’t see it being that busy on a Tuesday, so we’ll get to have a chat in the gaps. And I can always ask Marlon to come to help you pass the time when I’ve got my hands full.’

At the mention of Marlon’s name I could feel myself start to blush, and I thanked God that this was a phone call so Clio wouldn’t know.

‘Are you blushing?’ asked Clio.

Spooky.

‘You are, aren’t you? Well, shall I bring him with me?’

I considered the practicalities. Poppy could look after Noah for a couple of hours and I would only be up the road with my phone if they needed to get hold of me.

‘Okay,’ I heard myself say.

I hadn’t heard from Marlon since the ‘not-date’, but then I hadn’t been in touch with him, either. Clio had told me that he’d enjoyed himself and I could have asked her for his number, but I’d come over all old-fashioned and had decided to wait for him to ring me. He hadn’t.

When Clio texted to say that he was on for the meet-up at the pub, I let myself get a little bit excited about seeing him. I didn’t make too much of an effort getting ready, though, just in case, and as it turned out, neither did he. He must have come straight from work because he wandered into the King’s Arms in khaki shorts and polo shirt and a green fleece with the Hartsford Hall logo embroidered on to it. He even had a leaf stuck in his hair. It was quite cute, really.

‘Hi,’ he said when he saw me perched on a stool at the bar. I tapped the stool next to me.

‘So what are we tonight, then?’ he asked. ‘Some kind of Geordie Greek chorus?’