Luckily, Vaughn was standing in the doorway, breathing heavily but smiling and the spotlight swung away from her and the vomit and the shoes and the cupcake cream.

Thank God.

The boy was standing next to him, smudges of cake across his chest too. Karma. Good. ‘Got him. Tyler has something he wants to say to you, Jenna.’

Tyler still had the necklace in his fist. He held it out to her. ‘I’m sorry. Here’s the necklace back.’ His vowels were short and hard, not from London, that was for sure. He looked up at Vaughn with something akin to hero worship. ‘Them cakes were sick.’

‘Oh.’ Jenna looked at the messy floor then back at the boy and realised he was smiling. Clearly she wasn’t up with youth-speak and ‘sick’ didn’t mean what she thought it meant. ‘Yes, Vaughn can work wonders with food. Thank you for giving me the necklace back. I expect you won’t do it again. If you do, I’ve had a very close look at you and will be able to give the police a good description. In fact, Marnie’s got some photos too.’

‘I won’t do it again. I promise.’

Chloe had disappeared into the back office with Faith, but Bridget reappeared with more cloths. As did Nick. His shoes were wet and not at all shiny anymore. He’d also missed a bit, but she kept that intel to herself. Bridget nudged him and pointed to Tyler. ‘Him. He’s the one that was stealing. You’re the po-lice, Nicholas.’ The woman had been living in London for almost thirty years, but her Irish accent was as strong as ever. ‘You sort him out. Take him to the station and book him.’

Nick looked up, a little shocked. Poor guy had only popped in for a quiet drink. ‘Er… Jenna? What do you want me to do? Your call. I can take him down to the station if you like.’

Which, judging by the look on his face, was the exact opposite of what he wanted to do. Granted, he probably just wanted to go home and shower in bleach to rid himself of the vomity-smell. ‘His name is Tyler, and no, I don’t want to press charges, not on my first day.’

Next to her, Bridget bristled. She’d always been one for honesty. Well, almost always. ‘How will he learn if he isn’t punished?’

‘There are a few ways to deal with this.’ Nick’s hand was on the boy’s shoulder. Vaughn was at his other side. The poor lad was sandwiched between a good deal of muscle and a lot of brawn. She hadn’t imagined she’d need bouncers at the opening afternoon of her flower shop, but she was glad they were here. ‘Listen, Tyler, I’m off duty here, but that doesn’t mean I can’t call one of my colleagues to come down to sort all this out. But Jenna’s said she doesn’t want any trouble. It’s her first day, her brand-new shop and she was feeling pretty damned good about it. She’s worked hard to get this far. You ever done something like that? Worked hard and then had someone ruin it all for you?’

The boy nodded then looked at his feet. ‘Sorry.’

‘That’s a good start.’ Nick’s shoulders relaxed, but his tone was still assertive. ‘Do I need to walk you round the stall holders and shops for you to give a load of stuff back and say that word over and over?’

‘No. My mate dared me to do it. This was the first time.’

‘And the last. Okay? Sleeping rough?’

Tyler nodded again.

‘How long for?’ Nick’s manner was assertive and no nonsense, but also gentle enough to inspire a response, a confidence. Jenna had to admit, she was impressed. This wasn’t something he’d learnt through training; this was his natural inclination. Kind.

Uh-huh. Why couldn’t he be horrible? Mean?

The boy mumbled, ‘Couple of months.’

‘Parents?’

Tyler shrugged, eyes suddenly wary. Whatever had happened, he wasn’t about to give them details. But judging by his expression, it wasn’t a happy family story.

Nick’s hand was back on the boy’s shoulder, and he looked him directly in the eyes. ‘Okay. You don’t have to tell me. You want me to take you down to St Catherine’s? They have a centre there, can give you a hot dinner and maybe a bed for the night?’

‘They’re full.’ Tyler rubbed a fist over his scruffy hair. ‘They’re always full.’

‘Well, I happen to know of a couple of lads who won’t be back there tonight, so there may be a bed or two. You want me to find out?’

Tyler nodded.

‘How old are you?’ Nick’s eyes narrowed a little, as if he was trying to work it out for himself.

‘Eighteen.’

‘How old are you really?’

‘None of your business.’

‘It is if you’re a minor. I need to inform the right people. There must be people looking for you. Worried? Your mum? She must want to know you’re safe.’

Another shrug. ‘I’m old enough.’

Nick didn’t push it. ‘Actually, I’ve got some spare clothes I was going to throw out, but they might fit you. You want me to have a look?’

That was a lie. Jenna knew that for certain. She’d helped him move a few weeks ago and had commented on how little he owned. He was also a good head taller than Tyler and a lot broader. But what did she know? Other than that, the guy was extending a hand to someone who needed him.

But the kid shook his head and took a step back, a flight risk if ever she’d seen one. ‘Nah. I don’t need anything from you.’

‘Fair enough. But I can’t just let you walk away.’ Nick shrugged and reached for his top pocket. Everyone knew that was where the police kept their little black notebook.

Tyler was two steps back now. ‘You’ll take me straight to the cop shop. You’re just lying.’

‘I’m not.’ Instead of taking the pad out, Nick just swiped his hand over the pocket and then placed his hands palm up towards the boy. Trust me.

The boy had backed right into Vaughn, who said, ‘Hey, I’ll come with you, make sure he doesn’t do anything dodgy.’

Tyler frowned. ‘I won’t.’

Vaughn laughed. ‘I was talking about Nick.’

‘Cheers, mate. I won’t either. I promise.’ Nick laughed and the tension in the room dissolved. Even Tyler managed a rueful smile.

Vaughn nodded towards Chloe for agreement, which she gave, making Jenna feel 100 per cent better. Even though Nick had been in the army and was bigger in every way than the boy, there was safety in numbers.

Before he left, Nick motioned for her to walk to a quiet corner of the shop. ‘Are you okay, Jenna?’

She bit her lip, debating to say anything or butt out? Say. The man was helping her after all. ‘Well, if I’m honest, I’m not very happy about you going anywhere with him.’

Nick’s face was a mix of frown and surprise. ‘Why ever not? He’s half my size and about half my age too.’

‘He could be tricky.’

His shoulders relaxed. ‘Jenna, I was in Iraq. I know all the tricks.’

‘Okay. I suppose. And thanks.’ She couldn’t help it; it was just who she was, looking after people, nurturing them. Keeping them safe. But she knew full well she couldn’t keep everyone safe, no matter how hard she tried.

Nick dipped his head to capture her gaze in his. He had such amazing dark brown eyes. Kind. ‘Hey, stop worrying.’

Easy for anyone to say when their husband didn’t go out to work one day and never came home. ‘Okay. Sorry. Overprotective, I know.’

‘I’ll take him down to St Catherine’s Shelter. Are you okay with that?’

‘Yes. Thanks. I don’t imagine he’ll be stealing again any time soon. In fact, I’d go as far as to say you’re probably the first kind person he’s ever met.’

‘That makes two of us then. You could have pressed charges, many would.’

Jenna remembered the look on Tyler’s face at the mention of his parents and imagined how it must feel to have no support at all in your life. The only reason she was standing here today was because of her own support network, even if they did annoy her from time to time. They were family and that was what was important.

‘And that would have achieved what? A load of hassle for me, and a record or a caution for him. Look, I’ve been desperate before. I mean, not hand-to-mouth desperate, but I know what it feels like when you’re at the end of your rope and you’re scared. And lonely. And with an uncertain future.’

Being a pregnant widow had made her question a lot of things; in those early stages of grief, it had been her sanity. Later, after giving birth, it was her ability to cope. And ever since, her ability to love, to give her heart and herself completely, because she didn’t think she could cope with losing so much again. Mostly, she was scared of losing herself when she’d worked so hard at finding who she was, who she could be.

Nick’s kind eyes were on her again. ‘I remember your emails. Word for word. I’m sorry you were in that place, and that I was too far away to help.’

You helped, just having someone to talk to helped. Her heart contracted at the thought of him caring all those miles away, in a different world. ‘It’s okay. None of it was your fault. And look how far I’ve come with help.’ She gesticulated at her lovely, slightly sticky-floored shop and was grateful they’d kept the door open and a cool autumn breeze was now floating through and mixing with the floral scent.

Nick didn’t follow her gaze. ‘Amazing. Well, it’s definitely been a lot more than just a shop opening.’

‘Welcome to my life where nothing ever goes to plan. Of course I’d have a shoplifter on my opening day, that’s just my kind of luck, along with wearing Vaughn’s delicious cupcakes in my nostrils. And I have a child who does child things, like inappropriate vomiting. You’re lucky she didn’t give you a hug and share nits too.’ Jenna laughed and instinctively started to scratch her head. ‘That’s happened.’

Nick did the same, running a hand over his short hair, which made her want to run her fingers over it too. Short and buzzy and soft, she imagined and then told herself off.

He grinned. ‘Never a dull moment, that’s what the reporter said?’

‘Welcome to Crazyville.’ Such a shame he’d left the army to chase a quieter life. That’s what he’d told her when she helped him move into his new flat. He was over fighting, over the chop and change and lack of control over where he lived and what he did. Over the ex-girlfriend who’d left him for another soldier in his platoon. He wanted certainty, reliability, honesty—not crazy. Her heart tripped a little, as it did whenever she saw him. Poor guy would probably take this chance to head right out of Portobello Road and never look back. ‘See you later?’

‘This could take a while.’ He squeezed her arm gently. She wasn’t imagining it when she felt tingles along her skin. But she ignored them. She had no business having tingles, not with him. Not with anyone.

Ollie could be watching her. God, she’d consoled herself for years that Ollie would be watching over them, protecting them. Now she hoped he’d been distracted by something amazing up in Heaven and was missing this particular bit. He’d want her to be happy, she knew. She’d only ever loved him, and he’d gone and broken her heart—she certainly wasn’t open to it happening again. This was just a bit of lust, her hormones playing up after a long hibernation. Hell, a woman could window-shop.

Vaughn was waiting outside, chatting to Tyler. Jenna pointed to them. ‘You don’t have to take him to the centre, you know. Vaughn could drop him off.’

‘I know. It’s okay. I want to. The kid seems a bit lost.’

‘You can’t get involved with them all, or you’ll have no clothes left. You don’t have that many to start with.’ The thought of him half-naked nudged its way into her head and she felt her cheeks redden. All those muscles. All that skin. Wow, well her imagination was in super-overdrive today.

He laughed. ‘I’ll find him something. I have enough. Too much, really. You learn to live with very little when you have to carry everything in your pack on your back.’

‘I’m so sorry about the shoes.’

‘Worse has happened, Jenna. A whole lot worse.’ He gave her a soft smile. God, he was gorgeous. But she also saw pain there too, just a flash that he immediately hid. ‘I’ll see you—’

‘—Around. Yes.’ Time to be the grown-up. They needed some distance. Nothing more than casual friendship—not wanted, necessarily, but definitely needed.

He didn’t need this mess in his life.

‘Well, very nice. I’m sure that telling-off will put the fear of God into the boy.’ Jenna’s mum rolled her eyes in a very Bridget way. ‘Or not at all. He’s a thief, not a charity case.’

Jenna watched the men disappear along the street, her tummy contracting a little at the thought of Nick’s kind eyes, the touch of his hand on her skin and the fact that, even if he ever gave her the remotest come-on, she’d never act on it. ‘Nick’s just being compassionate. We could all do with a bit more of that in our lives. And personally, I think he’s very admirable.’

Chloe started to stack dirty glasses onto a tray, but she was grinning and had a mischievous look in her eye. ‘Judging by the look on your face, the glow in your cheeks and the twinkle in your eyes, my lovely Jenna, admirable is really not the word you’re thinking of.’

---

Well, this wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind.

He’d envisaged a quick cup of tea, a brief hello and the chance to let his heart settle a little, satisfied that Jenna was happy and safe and moving on in her life.

Instead, Nick was walking down Portobello Road, the right flank to Tyler. Vaughn was on the other side. Between them, they were wrangling the kid into law-abiding ways like some goddamned London-based Batman and Robin. What was the saying? Not all heroes wear capes. Not all heroes were gullible sooks like he was either, always too quick to fall for a sob story.

But he just couldn’t help it. His first intentions hadn’t been to help the boy at all, but to help Jenna, to smooth over her momentous shop opening by removing the offending youth and letting her get on with her celebrations. The fact he’d been too eager to make her smile spooked him.

Escaping the suffocating living quarters of army life, Nick had come back to live in a big anonymous city, hoping to finally breathe freely and live on his own without connections or complications—to lick his wounds and rebuild his life. Yet here he was, first chance he got, helping a woman more than he should and making promises to a boy that reminded him too much of the squaddies he’d lost.

As they rounded the corner, he took a chance to glance back at the flower shop. Jenna was standing in the doorway, her back to him, that amazing dress hugging her curves, wrapped up like a gift—a gift he wasn’t going to unwrap. Couldn’t. They had too much history, too much for him to lose when it all went pear-shaped.

He upped the pace and the two men with him followed. Distance was what he needed from the woman who’d been like his own personal guardian angel when he’d been at his lowest.

Not that she knew it, and he wasn’t about to let her in on that particular pathetic part of his life. The cumulative effect of being ditched by his pregnant fiancée and discovering he wasn’t going to be a father like he’d believed—hoped—and then watching his friends die in warfare while he somehow had survived, that had done something to him. Something dark. Something he didn’t want to relive. Jenna’s letters had been the only things to give him something to live for.

‘You’ve got something on your shoe.’ Tyler pointed down at Nick’s feet and grimaced.

‘Thanks, yes, I’ll sort it when I’m home.’ As the boy looked down, so did Nick, but not for the same reason. He was thinking of Jenna’s face when she’d watched Evie throw up; the wide startlingly blue eyes, the pretty pink in her cheeks, the turn down of those gorgeous red lips.

Kissable lips.

And that was when he knew he’d made a mistake by turning up to the opening of her shop at all. Because all they’d ever been was friends, and friends didn’t think about jumping another friend’s bones, especially not when one was a widow and hadn’t shown anything but sincerity since she’d helped him move into his apartment a few weeks ago.

He needed a change of subject. ‘Your accent’s not local. Where are you from?’

‘Manchester.’ It was said with pride, like a stab, a dare.

Vaughn’s eyebrows rose. ‘Oh yeah? You’re a long way from home.’

‘It’s not home if they chuck you out.’ The boy shrugged. ‘New step-dad. Number three. Didn’t want a kid around, just wanted my mum.’ He looked a bit shocked to have said so much, his thin cheeks turning red. His chest puffed out and he had a ready well-rehearsed nonchalance that made Nick’s heart ache. He’d seen this type so many times; cocky on the outside, scared shitless on the inside. ‘I’m fine on my own.’

‘Sure you are. Big question, though, are you a blue or a red?’ Vaughn asked. Seemed the famous chef was on the same page about keeping things less personal. Asking about football teams kept the conversation moving but didn’t threaten.

Tyler laughed, looking a little more relaxed, his puny chest puffing out for an altogether different reason, his face brightening. ‘Blue of course. City ’til I die.’

‘Good lad. QPR fan myself. Local team.’ Although Nick hadn’t been near a live game for years, he still managed to follow his team wherever he was.

Tyler gave him a wry look. ‘Sorry about that.’

‘Watch it.’ So he had a good sense of humour. He was a good kid, and Nick was sure stealing the necklace was a one-off. He hoped. ‘D’you play at all? It’s good for your fitness.’

‘Used to. Used to play for my school.’ The boy looked at them both and shook his head. ‘Bet I could run rings round both of you old men.’

‘Old? Hang on a minute, I’m not old. And I play football. Indoor.’ Vaughn’s face brightened. ‘Hey, Nick, you should come down and play too. We’re a bit short on subs these days.’

Here we go again. More connection. The opposite of what he’d been planning. ‘Maybe. Give me a shout if you need someone. Haven’t played in years.’

‘I could play.’ Tyler’s voice was quiet, as if no one ever listened to anything he had to say, as if he was used to being ignored. ‘I’m not busy on Sundays.’

Vaughn grinned. ‘Maybe, squirt, but you’d have to do a trial. If you can get down to the Elgin Crescent Leisure Centre tomorrow after five, we’ll give you a go.’

‘I’ll try.’

Vaughn gave him a gentle punch on the arm. ‘There is no try, young padawan. There is do or not do.’

‘You see, old as Yoda.’

They walked in a quiet camaraderie for a few minutes, like the three stooges or something, hands in pockets, stalking along. Nick did his best not to look as if he was hauling them both into custody. Should have gone home and got changed instead of turning up all prim in his work gear.

Eventually Vaughn broke the silence. ‘Manchester’s a pretty cool place these days. I’ve business up there, so I visit a lot.’

Tyler was all ears. ‘What kind?’

‘Restaurants.’

‘Snap. My mum works in a cafe in Gorton. I did the washing up there sometimes, but they had to let me go. Said they needed to do the legit paperwork or the cops would be on to them.’ Tyler threw Nick a look that told him he wasn’t trusted, that Tyler didn’t trust many people, least of all the police. He had a feeling the boy had been let down more than once. ‘Can’t get a job if you don’t have anywhere to live. Can’t get anywhere to live if you don’t have a job.’

Nick feigned nonchalance even though he had a thick ache in his chest. ‘Stinks, eh?’

‘Just about everything does right now.’ There was a pause. ‘I don’t usually nick things.’

‘What about your friend?’ Vaughn asked.

The boy shrugged. ‘Dunno. Just met him yesterday. He was showing me round. I’ve been dossing up in Trafalgar Square, but they move you on.’

Nick was trying hard not to sound like a cop right now. ‘How long really have you been living on the streets?’

‘Couple of weeks.’

They’d reached the centre now, and even though it was against all common sense, instead of just depositing the kid and then going home, Nick walked through the doors. He was just going to chat to Kathleen who ran the centre. He was not going to do more than that. He was not going to get involved.

Tyler looked around at the dirty grey walls of the well-used no-frills homeless shelter. ‘It smells funny.’

‘Yeah, well, lots of places smell funny. You’ll live. It’s warm and dry, and they do a mean evening meal, that’s the main thing.’

Vaughn nodded. ‘Bet you’ve been to a lot worse in the army, right?’

Tyler’s eyes widened as he turned back to Nick, suddenly interested again. ‘You were a squaddie?’

‘Yes.’

‘My dad was too.’

‘Oh yeah? Was?’ Nick’s gut clenched. He didn’t have a good feeling about this. ‘What’s he doing now?’

Tyler looked away, at his feet then the dirty wall. ‘He got killed. Iraq.’

Don’t get involved. Don’t get involved. ‘Shit. Sorry to hear that. Which squadron was he with?’

‘2^nd Battalion Duke of Lancaster. Shaun Derby. Did you know him?’ Tyler was hungry for information, for attention. It damned near snapped Nick’s heart in two. As did the memories; flashes of bright light, screams. The drag of someone’s hand on his arm, tugging him away from danger when he’d wanted to walk right on into it.

He turned away from his audience and dragged in a deep breath. Steadied himself. Ground under your feet. Air in your lungs. Breathe. In. Out. He was better. So much better than he had been. He faced Tyler again. ‘No, mate. That’s bad news, I’m sorry. I didn’t know him. Sorry for your loss.’ He tugged some coins from his pocket and gave them to Vaughn. ‘Can you get some drinks from that vending machine? I’ll just go find Kathleen. Then we can get on the road.’

Vaughn flashed him a questioning look. You okay? Nick nodded back. Fine. Then he ducked straight into the office. Luckily it was empty. Time to pull himself together. This ‘not getting involved’ thing wasn’t working.

Kathleen’s voice was coming from down the corridor, her Caribbean brogue singsong bright in this dark place. One breath. Two. Work.

That was what this was. Work. Nothing else. He found Vaughn and Tyler sitting in a row of plastic chairs in the waiting area. ‘Right, here she is. She’ll get you sorted out. Here’s my card with my number on it, in case you need anything.’

‘Cool. Thanks.’ Tyler was clutching the card as if it were the latest Xbox One or whatever it was kids did these days. As if one phone number was the best thing he’d ever been given.

How did he live like that? How did he survive without anyone? And yet, wasn’t Nick trying to do just that? His first mistake had been to tell Jenna he was moving back. His second to allow her to help him move in. Third? In evidence on his shoe. This was rapidly becoming the fourth. ‘Okay. Be good. Don’t get into any trouble.’

‘I won’t.’

‘Remember, I know who you are, who your dad was and where you lived. It won’t take a lot of searching to find you again.’

‘Okay. Okay.’ The roll of his eyes was typical teenager.

‘And call your mum.’

‘She won’t care.’

The image of Jenna stroking her daughter’s back, the love and concern in her face, along with the tight coil of something so huge and all-consuming in his chest at the ultrasound scan of what he’d believed to be his baby suffused his words. ‘She will care. Very much. She may not show it very well, but she loves you and she’ll want to know you’re safe. Call her.’

‘Okay.’ Tyler looked at Kathleen walking towards him and at the dirty grey walls, and Nick could have sworn there were tears in the kid’s eyes. But if there had been, they were gone after Tyler blinked. ‘Thanks.’

‘I mean it, okay? You need anything, call me.’ And yeah, he knew he was playing with fire. He knew he didn’t know the kid from a bar of soap and that he was inviting all kinds of crazy into his life. But he was the child of a brother in arms.

There was a red heat in the centre of his chest. He was doing the right thing; Jenna would be proud.

Whoa indeed. Hot damn. Since when had he started doing things to impress her?

But when he thought about that, he realised he always had. Every word he’d written to her in those emails over the years had been to make her smile, make her proud.

And here he was, having been halfway round the world three times, right back where he’d started, hoping he’d changed, hoping he could start again, be someone new—someone better—and making mistakes all over again. Don’t get involved. Don’t get involved.

Thing was, changing geography didn’t mean a damned thing when the ghosts you were escaping were inside your head.