Chapters (84)
- 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
- Chapter thirty-eight
- Chapter thirty-nine
- Chapter forty
- Chapter forty-one
- Chapter forty-two
- Chapter forty-three
- Chapter forty-four
- Chapter forty-five
- Chapter forty-six
- Chapter forty-seven
- Chapter forty-eight
- Chapter forty-nine
- Chapter fifty
- Chapter fifty-one
- Chapter fifty-two
- Chapter fifty-three
- Chapter fifty-four
- Chapter fifty-five
- Chapter fifty-six
- Chapter fifty-seven
- Chapter fifty-eight
- Chapter fifty-nine
- Chapter sixty
- Chapter sixty-one
- Chapter sixty-two
- Chapter sixty-three
- Chapter sixty-four
- Chapter sixty-five
- Chapter sixty-six
- Chapter sixty-seven
- Chapter sixty-eight
- Chapter sixty-nine
- Chapter seventy
- Chapter seventy-one
- Chapter seventy-two
- Chapter seventy-three
- Chapter seventy-four
- Chapter seventy-five
- Chapter seventy-six
- Chapter seventy-seven
- Chapter seventy-eight
- Chapter seventy-nine
- Chapter eighty
- Chapter eighty-one
- Chapter eighty-two
- Chapter eighty-three
- Chapter eighty-four
‘Right.’ I busy myself doing nothing, checking pockets for no reason, pulling up my socks, tightening my belt a notch.
Dean heads towards the door and I follow him, shoulders dropped, chin almost trailing the floor. Suddenly, he shrugs off my bag and I’m in his arms again, crying, crying, crying. We’re clutching at each other, clutching at time, clutching at straws. I can quite honestly say that this feels a hundred times worse than Jake walking away.
Chapter sixty-five
Chapter sixty-five
Airline travel is disorientating. The flight from Kathmandu to Heathrow is nine hours in total. Nine long hours if you view it in terms of sitting in an unfeasibly cramped, economy seat with nothing but a tray of plastic food for solace. Nine very short hours in terms of catapulting me from my escapist, fantasy romance back into the grim reality that is my life. At least I got around to reading my trusty guidebook, which I haven’t glanced at since I flew out. I pored over the most boring bits—the geological formation of the Himalayas, the chequered political history and the rules of the road in Nepal, which were covered in one paragraph. And it very, very nearly helped to take my mind off Dean and the miles that were opening up between us.
I didn’t tell anyone when I was actually arriving as I thought I’d prefer to make my own way home. Now that I’m faced with slogging for the best part of two hours on the St Pancras to Bedford railway line—affectionately known as the Bedpan—to jolly old St Albans, I wish I’d phoned Edie and persuaded her to come and collect me.
My trusty and now rather battered backpack comes bumping round on the baggage carousel, looking as if the baggage handlers have had a boisterous game of football with it, and I hoist it onto my shoulders in what has become a familiar movement. And, weighty as it is, it’s still nowhere near as heavy as my heart. I make my way out of the Arrivals Hall, through the green ‘Nothing to Declare’ channel even though I want to declare that I’m very unhappy to anyone who will listen.