Ned sat on the edge of the bed and stretched his arms behind his broad back as he yawned.

‘I hate you having to get up so early,’ Anna mumbled, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. ‘I feel like you don’t get enough sleep. In fact I feel like we don’t get enough sleep.’

‘Did my mum tell you to say that? Gawd, even after I’ve been at it two years she’s still nagging me about giving up the stall. I wish she’d give it a rest. But I’ll tell you what I told her – I’m fine. So don’t worry.’ He squeezed her foot beneath the duvet. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you.’

She yawned again. ‘It’s hard not to in this tiny space. You only have to turn over or fart and I’m awake.’

‘I’ll only admit to one of those.’ He grinned at her and slipped his arms into his padded plaid shirt. ‘But you’re right, it is a tiny place. I’m sick of keeping everything I own in a plastic box. My clothes are permanently in a suitcase, it’s like I’m on the shittest holiday in the world!’

‘Thanks a bunch.’ She sniffed.

‘I don’t mean with you! Every minute with you is five bloody star. I mean if I turned up on holiday and was given this place, I’d probably ask to be moved. And so...’ He turned to face her. ‘That’s what I’m doing. I’m asking you to move.’

‘Oh not this again.’ Anna lay back against the wall and briefly pulled the pillow over her face.

‘Yes, this again. You can’t hide. We need to get a bigger place. We’ve stuck it out long enough – it must be more than a year since I properly moved in, isn’t it? And I can’t even have the lads over. Can you imagine inviting them in and asking them to sit on the bed and we all have to budge up to make space!’ He gave a wry laugh. ‘And now you’ve had your promotion, plus the stall is doing well, so we can rely on my income a bit more and maybe try and find somewhere nearer my mum and dad. They’d love that – you’d never get rid of them!’

‘I’d be the size of a house.’ Anna pictured Sylvie beating a path from her front door to theirs in her slippers at all hours of the day and night, bearing an endless procession of food. She’d grown to really love Ned’s family over the past couple of years, and she was in no doubt that the feeling was mutual. She liked to think of Sylvie and Jack as being like a pair of comfy socks, because they made everything feel a little bit better. So she was surprised at her reaction to the future life Ned was painting. It sparked a leap of fear in her chest, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on why.

‘I think we should stay here.’ She looked around the walls, prettified by framed postcards and additional strings of fairy lights. ‘I know it’s not perfect, but it’s so affordable that, God forbid, if ever I lost my job and couldn’t get another, I could still pay the rent for quite some time, just out of my savings.’

‘Oh, Anna, you don’t have to worry about that stuff. First of all, you’ll never lose your job. Everyone knows they just love you there, Madam Senior Receptionist! And secondly, I have a job too and I can look after you.’ He looked at her sincerely and pushed his fringe from his eyes. ‘You’re not on your own any more. You’ve got me.’

‘I know, and that’s lovely of you to say, Ned, but it’s really important to me that I can take care of myself.’

‘You need to let me in a bit more, Anna.’

She stared at him, knowing that this request, however reasonable, might just be beyond her capabilities.

*

Making her way along the street just outside work, she caught sight of Melissa coming in the opposite direction and waved. They both sped up and met by the glass lobby on the ground floor.

‘What’s up?’ Melissa asked.

‘Why do you think there’s something up? I haven’t said a word yet! Good morning, by the way.’

‘How long have I worked with you?’

‘Erm, about two and a half years?’

‘Exactly. And for all of that time I have sat right by your side for at least eight hours a day. I know your every mood.’ Melissa arched an eyebrow and gave her an appraising stare. ‘And I can tell by your body language and your expression just how you’re feeling before you have said a single word.’

‘That’s a bit worrying. So what’s my body language and expression telling you right now?’ Anna pulled a face and stuck out her tongue.

‘Ah, that’s another thing, Anna. You can joke, but you can’t hide how you’re feeling – you’re one of those people who wears their feelings like a large hat, visible to everyone. So come on, talk to me. We’re not leaving here until you do.’ Melissa folded her arms across her chest, as if this might emphasise her point.

Anna exhaled and looked into the middle distance. ‘I’m having...’ She swallowed, regrouping her thoughts. ‘I mean, I am starting to think...’ Again she paused. ‘I think I might be tired. That’s probably it.’ She forced a tight-lipped smile.

‘Come on!’ Melissa grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her in the opposite direction, towards the front door.

‘Where are we going? We’ve got to get to work!’

She looked back over her shoulder as Melissa headed purposefully along the street. Anna, tethered to her via a clamped hand, trotted in her wake. They came to a halt at a bench set back from the edge of the road next to a litter bin scrawled with graffiti and covered with cement-like lumps of gum.

Melissa sat down and patted the bench next to her. Anna followed suit.

‘I don’t think you’re happy and I don’t like it. You’re my best friend and I want you to be happy.’ As was her manner, Melissa cut to the chase.

‘I am.’ Anna avoided her gaze.

‘No, I don’t think you are,’ her friend repeated. ‘I think you are happy enough, but that is not enough, if you get my meaning.’

Anna smiled weakly. Ironically, she did get her meaning. She hid her face in her hands, letting out a long sigh. When she sat up and removed her palms from her eyes, her words flowed.

‘I think I might be having doubts about Ned.’

Melissa nodded, seemingly unsurprised, and waited for Anna to expand.

‘Not so much about him – he’s great – but it’s a million tiny things.’ She paused.

Melissa nodded sagely. ‘It always is, honey.’

‘He was talking about how much his mum is bothered by his early starts and he was trying to reassure me that he’s fine and I stared at him and I realised that I didn’t care that much and I know that makes me sound like a terrible person!’ She buried her face in her hands again.

Melissa yanked her wrists so she could see her face. ‘You are not a terrible person, just an honest one.’

‘Oh, Mel, he keeps asking me to move into a bigger flat with him and he says he wants to look after me more.’

‘The bastard!’

‘I can’t even joke about it. He’s lovely, I get it, but...’ Anna stared at the traffic rushing past and chose her words carefully, words that would mean a change of direction for her, a new start. ‘I don’t think he’s for me, not long-term and I don’t think I’m for him, not really.’ She grimaced. ‘And I feel so bad because he is lovely.’

She looked up at Melissa, who gave a thin-lipped smile.

‘I already know this, honey.’

‘What do you mean, you “already know this”?’ She pulled her head back on her shoulders and knitted her brows.

‘Ned is beautiful to look at and sweet. But I see the way you dumb down when you’re with him and I have a suspicion that you’ve fallen for the whole package.’

‘In what way?’ Anna asked, conscious of her defensive tone.

‘I mean that you love his friends, who make you laugh, and his parents, who make you cocoa, and his beefcake bod that protects you and keeps you warm through the cold, dark nights, yada yada...’ She raised her hands.

Anna stared at the graffiti on the litter bin – JW Luvs DS. The Selector – anything rather than let her insightful friend see the flicker of recognition cross her face. ‘I don’t know if I love him.’ She whispered the words aloud for the first time and felt a stab of guilt in her chest.

‘That means you don’t love him,’ Melissa stated flatly. ‘No one in love, in true, deep, committed love, has ever said that. If it’s right, that thought does not occur.’

Anna sighed and closed her eyes. Melissa was right. She did love the whole package, his welcoming parents, who were always so pleased to see her, his mates, who included her in their ribbing, but as for spending the rest of her life with Ned? She pictured their evenings, him watching the TV and her reading a book. They never had any discussions about anything other than their respective days. She wasn’t knocking him, his intellect or his job, no way! She admired him and liked him very much, but it was something more than that. There was no spark. No excitement about the future, and there was so much that she had never told him, as if a sixth sense told her there was no point.

Her mum’s advice, ‘you’ll know if he’s the one’, was always there at the back of her mind. She didn’t share her mum’s conviction, but if she was honest, in her heart of hearts she did know that Ned wasn’t the one.

‘I can’t stand the idea of hurting him.’ She shivered at the prospect.

‘I know, but the longer you let it go on, the more he will be hurt. The kindest thing is to do it fast, like ripping off a Band-Aid.’

Anna nodded, feeling sick at the prospect. ‘Come on, we’ve got to get to work.’

‘Yes, good point. The senior receptionist is a total cow, wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of her!’ Melissa reached over and kissed her friend and now boss on the cheek.

*

Over the next few days Anna tried and failed several times to find the right moment to talk to Ned. It seemed he was always either rushing in or rushing out, or one or both of them was on the point of falling asleep.

Excuses, Anna. Excuses.

She shook her head to rid it of this truth and lingered in the supermarket aisle, wondering what might be quick and easy to make for their tea. It was tricky with only two rings on the worktop stove, but they managed. Admittedly the menu wasn’t that varied: pasta and sauce, sauce and pasta, soup, baked beans... She stopped. Something had caught her eye. Staring at the boxes of ready-made cake mix, she selected one for a Victoria sandwich, transfixed by the image on the front.

This was what her grief did, even all these years later. Without warning, it hijacked the most mundane of moments and was powerful enough to make her body fold and her tears spout. She could almost smell the two halves of sponge baking in the oven – her wedding cake. She could hear her mum and Joe arguing in the next-door room. Her memory of that day was still acute.

Anna slowly placed the box back on the shelf and wiped her face with the sleeve of her jumper pulled over her hand. She’d lost her desire to shop for their evening meal. She’d make do with whatever was at the back of the cupboard, or Ned could go out for chips. Again.

‘What’s the matter?’ Ned sat up on the bed the moment she walked through the door. ‘Have you been crying?’ His face was creased with concern as he hurried over and wrapped her in his arms.

With her head resting on his broad chest, she inhaled the scent of him. It was a nice place to be, a nice, safe place, but Melissa was right: it wasn’t enough.

She pulled away. ‘Yes, I’ve been crying. Thinking and crying and knowing that you and I have to talk and kind of wishing that we didn’t have to – if that makes any sense. But we do need to talk, Ned. We need to talk about our future.’

And just like that, she’d found the moment. It was now.

She bit her lip and shrugged free from his grasp. Walking over to the bed, she sat on the far side of the mattress. He lumbered over, blocking the light with his frame, before pulling the chair from the two-person table so that he could sit facing her. She had hoped, rather cowardly, that he would sit on the other side of the bed, as far away as was possible in their cramped living zone. That way she might have avoided having to look into his beautiful face.

‘I think we should get married.’ His words were like a jolt of electricity fired into the air.

Anna couldn’t help the gasp of shock or the startled expression that shot across her face. ‘What?’ She wrinkled her nose.

Ned leant forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. ‘I’ve been thinking about it for a while and Dad said I should get on with it and he’s right. Mum’s hinted too. I know you have a problem with the thought of leaning on me and I get it, I do, but you need to get over that, Anna, and I think if we got married, then you wouldn’t feel so bad about me supporting you, supporting us. Plus I love you.’

‘Oh, Ned.’ She let her head flop down to her chest. ‘I want to talk about how we can split up in the best way possible and you ask me to marry you?’

‘Split up?’ he repeated, his mouth hanging open in surprise. ‘Is that what we’re doing, splitting up?’ He rubbed at his chin with his palm; she could hear the graze of stubble against his calloused hand.

‘Yes.’ She nodded, her tears pooling again. ‘I’m sorry.’

Ned sat back in the chair. His breath was coming fast. ‘Shit.’

‘I’m sorry, Ned.’

‘Stop saying you’re sorry.’ His voice had turned sharp. Anger and embarrassment now lapped where only minutes earlier there’d been love and a rosy future. ‘Fucking hell!’ He raked his fingers through his hair, stood up and walked to the window as if he needed air. He flung open the latch and she too welcomed the cold breeze that poured in. ‘I didn’t see that one coming.’

He breathed deeply and she figured he was trying to clear his head. This she understood as hers was a muddle of thoughts too. Guilt far outweighed the relief she had imagined she might feel.

‘Is there someone else?’ he said bitterly.

She shook her head. ‘No. No one else.’

They were both silent for a beat or two, wondering whether this was better or worse.

Anna tried to clarify, knowing she owed him that much. ‘I just don’t feel the way I should. You are lovely, Ned, your whole family is lovely, but that’s not a reason to get married.’ She stood and made her way over to him, thinking that to hold him might make them both feel a little better.

He dodged her grasp. She felt the flat shrink even further, becoming quite claustrophobic.

Ned scooted past her and gathered up his plastic box from the floor, into which he threw a small pile of clothes, his motorbike magazines and two bottles of cologne from the windowsill.

She sat back in the chair he’d just vacated. ‘I also think—’

‘Can you just shut up!’ he snapped. ‘I don’t care what you think! I don’t want to hear your bullshit excuses or reasons. So don’t bother. Christ, Anna!’

She was stunned into quiet, watching as he whipped along the hall and into the bathroom, gathering his toiletries and towel before hurling them too into the box. She knew his behaviour was fuelled by hurt and wasn’t a true reflection of his normally calm nature. Finally he put on his trainers and stood with the box in his arms. He looked back at her, his face contorted, whether in sadness or anger she couldn’t tell.

‘You are fucking weird and I put up with your weirdness because I loved you, but you really are fucking weird.’

He balanced the box on his thigh, turned the latch, then slammed the door behind him in one final act of defiance.

She sat staring after him for a full ten minutes, processing what had just happened, too frozen to cry or shout or laugh, replaying his words over and over. ‘You really are fucking weird.’ The worst of it was he didn’t know half of her weirdness, didn’t know that she used to flag down cabs to try and locate her dad, didn’t know about the alphabet game, didn’t know she wrote to her imaginary future children, didn’t know her at all, not really.

‘I put up with your weirdness because I loved you.’

‘And I guess that’s just it,’ she whispered into the ether. ‘I don’t want to be with someone who has to put up with me.’

She lay back on the bed feeling nothing but emptiness. Not a feeling that was alien to her, but it had been absent for a while. She pictured the granny bedroom at her aunt and uncle’s and let her eyes now sweep the flat.

A... apple. That’s how this started.

B... bed.

C... closet. She looked at the wardrobe door, which was still open. Its empty hangers rattled.

D... duvet. She ran her fingers over the relief of the pattern and pictured Shania sitting on the single bed while she’d packed up ready to leave Mead House. She missed her old roommate. ‘I hope you have your own duvet now, Shania, not a standard-issue institutional one. I hope you’re making your mark, flying high, working hard.’

*

When the alarm buzzed her awake at seven the next morning, her first feeling was one of dread at the prospect of having to walk past Ned’s stall on her way to work. Should she smile, say something, try to make him feel better? Or just hurry past with her head down? She cursed the fact that it wasn’t raining, thinking how convenient it would have been if she could have hid under her brolly, but it was a rare bright day, with barely a cloud in the sky. She took a deep breath and craned her neck out the window – forewarned was forearmed, after all. He wasn’t there! No red-and-white awning, no chirpy cockney patter, no handsome smile. She was gladder than she could have imagined. Lovely Ned was no longer her lovely Ned. She hurried into the shower, got into her smart clothes and set off for work.

Back at the flat that night, she leafed through her file of letters to Fifi and Fox, lingering on one she’d written just a few months back. She smiled ruefully at how happy with Ned she’d sounded and at the little hint she’d included about Sylvie and Jack possibly becoming her babies’ grandparents. It was time to write an update.

Hey Fifi and Fox,

I have been thinking recently that there is always a temptation when your life moves on to remove any evidence that shows you walking a wrong path or making choices that just didn’t work out. Like erasing the name of the boy you used to fancy from your pencil case. I’ve decided not to do that and I’m leaving my letters to you about Ned exactly where I placed them in the file.

I think it’s important, this record of my history, waiting for you.

Ned is a really good person, but I didn’t love him, not in the way you need to if you want to stay with someone and make a life together. He thought I was weird and I realise that my life is weird compared to his. This I think is the biggest reason why we couldn’t stay together. How could Ned, with his loving mum and dad, his cosy life, his great mates, how could he possibly understand what it’s been like for me? How could someone like him get my need for quiet, my need for independence? I am shaped by my life experience and yes, that might be weird, but it is what it is.

I know that leaving Ned moves having you two in my life a little further out of reach and that’s the biggest sacrifice of all. Don’t imagine I’ve stopped thinking about you – I think about you every single day! I just need to find you the right dad. We don’t need riches, or a big house, so long as there’s proper love. That’s what’s important. The things I want for you are things I can already provide, like goodnight kisses on the forehead, a warm bubble bath for you on a cold day. And if you ever get sick, I will wrap you in a duvet and hold you tight on the sofa, feeding you tomato soup!

I think about my mum, who made decisions that didn’t bring her happiness, not in the end. She chose badly, some would say, and I don’t want to do the same. So this has been a good lesson for me. Sometimes things don’t work out as you expect them to, but that shouldn’t stop you trying or going for it! In fact, the more you try, the more likely you are to fail and the more you will learn.

So try lots! Fail at lots! That’s okay. It will all be taking you in the right direction.

This much I know.

Love, Mummy x