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CHAPTER 17

Lucie stared up at the changed London skyline from the backseat of Frances’s Range Rover. It had been more than ten years since she’d last driven through these streets without feeling like a visitor.

The city had rearranged itself in her absence. New glass towers rose where familiar buildings once stood, and cranes were dotted across the winter sky. It was taller, richer. She wasn’t sure why she had expected it to feel the same. Change never slowed, especially not in a city like London.

It felt like another lifetime since she had dragged her bags into the halls of Goldsmiths, the air faintly smelling of alcohol and burnt toast. Back then, London had felt intoxicating, full of promise and endless possibilities. Now it was more like a chapter she’d stepped back into, unsure whether she was revisiting it or rewriting it.

The stop-start traffic suggested it had grown busier. The light chatter between Rose and Frances in the front had stopped as they crossed the M25. She suspected Rose had drifted off to sleep and Frances into her own thoughts. Not that she minded the quiet.

Lucie’s gaze shifted to Frances in the driver’s seat, thoughts of that near kiss lingering in her mind as they had since New Year. The atmosphere between them felt unsettled, like they were circling unfinished business. Distractions hadn’t helped, though there were fewer since she’d hung up her elf costume last weekend. Her only commitment now was her visits to Rose.

The past mornings she’d spent with Mandy, packing up Christmas at the cottage and the pub. Then they gave the flat a thorough clean. Lucie suspected that Mandy might end up spending more time there than she did at home and wanted it to feel less like a bachelor pad. The week had flown by, but the thoughts hadn’t. Whenever her mind was unoccupied, it returned to that night, dreaming up alternative scenarios to how it had ended.

She’d wanted to kiss Frances for ages and couldn’t resist skating into her on purpose. When she hadn’t let go, Lucie froze, afraid to unsettle the moment. Then Frances had brushed her hair from her cheek, caressed her face with her fingers. She’d had to reach for Frances’s waist to hold herself up. Just as their lips had almost touched, that jobsworth security guard had interrupted them.

At least she now knew she wasn’t alone in what she was feeling, but having no official ties to Frances, and the fact she was likely leaving Winterbourne soon, made anything happening between them feel impossible.

Turning her attention back to the window, Lucie saw that the streets had become residential. Although she didn’t know the area, it didn’t surprise her when they pulled up outside a row of handsome brick terraces overlooking a central private garden. White-painted lower storeys and black wrought-iron balconies fronting the tall sash windows gave them a Regency grandeur. As Frances expertly parallel-parked into a narrow gap between two cars, a small sign fixed to the railing confirmed their location: Kensington.

Lucie stepped out, swinging her rucksack onto her back, and helped a drowsy Rose climb down from her seat. She took her arm gratefully, and Lucie let herself be guided towards the front door as Frances followed behind with the bags.

Inside, a long hallway stretched ahead of them, a staircase at the end. Rose led the way, turning into the first room on the left. Lucie dropped her rucksack on the floor beside a console table and followed her. As she entered the sitting room, Rose was easing herself into a chair beside tall windows overlooking the square.

“I’ll show Lucie the spare room, Mum, and then I’ll make us some tea,” Frances said, appearing in the doorway.

“Okay,” Rose replied, with a brief nod.

Lucie followed Frances back into the hallway and up the stairs.

“This is Mum’s room,” Frances said, opening the first door and placing a bag on the bed.

“It’s beautifully decorated,” Lucie said, admiring the floral wallpaper.

Frances crossed the landing and opened a door opposite.

“You’re in here, next to me,” she said, gesturing to a door further down. “Make yourself at home.”

“Thanks,” Lucie said, wondering what Frances’s room might look like as she entered the room.

Although smaller than Rose’s, it still packed a punch, with a beautiful marble fireplace and view over the square.

“Tea?” Frances asked.

Lucie dropped her bag beside the bed. “Please.”

“Join us when you are ready. The bathroom is next to Mum’s room. There should be plenty of towels in the cupboard in there.”

“Thank you, Frances. All this is — ”

“Better than a cheap hotel?”

Lucie laughed. “Yes, much.”

Frances flashed her a smile and closed the door behind her.

Lucie perched on a chair by the window and pulled out her phone, sending a quick message to her dad and Mandy to say she’d arrived. Messages of good luck came back quickly. Her meeting wasn’t until tomorrow afternoon, and she’d agreed to attend Rose’s appointment on Harley Street in the morning. Frances had suggested it might be helpful, given her experience and how much time she’d spent with her recently.

When she returned to the sitting room, Rose was still in her chair, staring out of the window. Her face brightened at the sight of Lucie. She heard the whistle of a kettle, and she made her way through to a large, stylish kitchen, to find Frances with her phone to her ear.