‘I know you didn’t.’

‘I don’t want you to come back and do this.’

‘I don’t want to either. And the way I see it, I don’t need to. We can record your memories and use them to restore you if you really do have this accident. Who’s going to make me come back at that point?’

‘Good. Don’t come back. Don’t be him ever.’

‘I won’t.’ It wasn’t true, though. If I didn’t come back how would the memories work? How would any of it work? Still, I didn’t want to come back. I didn’t intend to. You would have to love someone a ridiculous amount to do that.

‘Promise?’ She met my gaze, serious.

‘I have no intention of coming back so Rust can stick a machete through me,’ I said. ‘And I’m not trying to make you feel guilty over any of this. If you use the headband to erase the last two weeks like I’m about to do, then neither of us will even know what really happened in that laboratory. And I think that Demus was right about that being a good thing.’

‘So, you know how to work this gadget?’ She peered at it over her nose and for a moment the old Mia was back, the Mia from the D&D table considering one of Elton’s death traps.

‘I do.’ I had installed the stolen chip and read the manual. ‘And I’ve written a short catch up for me to read when it’s done. I just need you to make me read it and to keep me from freaking out. Because as far as I will know, I’ll have just jumped forward in time from whenever my most recent memory was. And I may be a bit surprised to find myself suddenly sitting here with you.’

Mia suppressed a smile. ‘When will you set it for?’

‘I’m aiming for just after I knocked Devis over outside your door and we chased him off. That way it will fit with when Demus’s memories stopped.’

‘You’ll miss out on some good moments as well as some bad ones,’ Mia said.

‘I will.’ I met her gaze. ‘I’ll have to learn to dance again.’ I was thinking of her kisses, though. I would miss that memory. But also, I wouldn’t have to remember watching myself die, and Demus wouldn’t have to enter that building knowing how things would play out. It must be hard knowing you’re about to die. But to have to do it to a script. To step into the blow you know is coming. That was too much to ask of anyone. Or myself.

I put the headband on, feeling rather self-conscious, though apart from an old woman in the distance walking her dog there was nobody around. In one hand I held the pocket calculator that interfaced to the band via a lead. In the other, the notes I had made for myself. The skeleton of what had happened since Demus picked us up in his BMW outside the Miller blocks. Enough to bridge the gap, but avoiding detail. I finished with strict instructions not to ask too many questions or pursue the matter further. I had time travel to invent. Not to mention the headbands themselves.

‘Look. I’ve done the same thing for you. You can choose how far you want to go back. Just enter the date like this and hit equals.’ I showed her the display on my calculator then got out the other headband. ‘I’ve written notes for you, too, though you should write the last page yourself, so you believe it.’

Mia took the notebook and the offered pen. She blew into her hands and began to write. ‘It’s a bit like writing a character sheet. You know, for D&D. I could tell myself anything. Make a new Mia maybe.’

‘I rather like the old one,’ I said.

She glanced at me and smiled her old smile.

‘It’s funny, but this is like having an erase button. If we both do this, then the things we say now are gone. Neither of us will ever know we said them, let alone what they were.’

Mia frowned. ‘That’s kind of sad. I guess it’s a bit like writing on the sand between two waves . . . It does make me feel braver about what I might say. But also . . . sad. Does it even matter if neither of us remember it?’

‘Maybe not.’ My finger hovered over the ‘=’ button. ‘But I want to say it anyway.’

Mia looked up from her writing. ‘Go on then.’

I felt foolish. Even now the words stumbled from a dry mouth, tripping over each other. ‘I don’t know what love is, Mia. I think that’s something I’ve just started learning about. I know how it starts, though.’ We both smiled at that. ‘It seems that it grows and changes, and changes you, too. I hope it makes us better. I . . . I’m not saying this very well . . . but I think I’m going to grow into a man who could love the woman you’re going to grow into . . .’

‘That’s the most romantic instantly forgettable thing anyone has ever said to me.’ Mia signed at the bottom of her page of notes.

‘Heh.’ I felt my cheeks burning. ‘Well, here’s me forgetting my half of it.’

I pushed the button.

‘You’re fine. You’re OK, Nick. Just sit still.’

‘Mia?’

‘Yes. It’s Mia. You remember me, right?’

‘I remember you.’ I blinked to clear the blurring from my eyes. My head ached, a ringing sound faded from my ears, and my mouth tasted strangely sweet. ‘We’re in the park? I . . . Weren’t we at your place? Your mother . . . God! She cut Rust with that bottle!’

‘Calm down and read this.’ She pushed a notebook into my hands.

I opened it with cold fingers. Pages of my own handwriting. And at the very top, between two asterisks:

kiss the girl

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I’m enormously grateful to Agnes Meszaros, without whose beta reading Nick’s story would have been very different and far less fun to write. She worked tirelessly and refused to let me get away with anything but my best effort.

I should also thank my editor, Jack Butler, for acquiring the trilogy and for his subsequent support, along with the other editorial staff at 47North. And of course my agent, Ian Drury, and the team at Sheil Land.