PROLOGUE
FRIDAY 5 JUNE 1992
Anna finished the wine in her glass and gestured for Nia to pour her another. ‘I just don’t understand…’ she started to say.
‘I know,’ Nia cut in. ‘You don’t understand why he didn’t call.’
‘It was perfect, Nia. It was so perfect.’
‘And that’s why we’re going to see Magda! We’re going to get some answers.’
‘I don’t know… about Magda.’
Magda was Nia’s next-door neighbour. She read tarot cards in her conservatory and had successfully predicted Nia’s driving test fails (three) and her subsequent pass, Nia’s dad’s recovery from prostate cancer and Nia’s appearance on a local radio quiz show. Nia believed that Magda could predict anything.
Four weeks and three days ago, Anna had met a man called James on the bus after accidentally poking him in the knee with the end of her umbrella, and they had got chatting, got off the bus together at Trafalgar Square and gone on a long walk that had led to coffee and then dinner and then a moonlit walk along the Thames. It had been the most romantic day of Anna’s life. When James had kissed her, Anna had felt all those things youread about in books, the fireworks and the fizzing and the rush of pure joy. He’d taken her number and promised to call the next day, and it hadn’t crossed her mind even once that he wouldn’t.
But he hadn’t. Not the next day, or the one after that. Not for four weeks and three days. Hence Magda. Nia knew that Anna was a sceptic. She’d lured Anna over to her house with the promise of wine and a video showing ofPoint Break(Keanu for Anna, Patrick for Nia), and then after a couple of glasses, she’d mentioned Magda. That she’d already made the booking. That it was in half an hour.
‘Come on,’ Nia said. ‘I mean, what have you got to lose? We’ll ask her to tell us about the loves of our lives, and then you can see whether it sounds like James is the one, in which case we need to find him, or whether you’ve just dodged a bullet.’
‘I don’t believe in “the one”,’ Anna said. ‘And I don’t believe in psychics, either.’
‘But what if you’re wrong?’
Anna let that thought settle. What if she was wrong? What if this woman next door, with her tarot cards and tea leaves and whatever the hell else these people used, could really see into Anna’s future? She took another big gulp of wine, as if it might drown her doubts.
‘Okay,’ she said, smiling as Nia started to clap her hands and do a little victory dance. ‘Okay, let’s do it. But when we get back, we watchPoint Break. Promise?’
1
MONDAY 5 JUNE 2000
When Anna reached the table where Edward was sitting, his face lit up. He was looking at her with the same expression he’d worn on their wedding day, a year before, when he’d stood at one end of the aisle and she’d stood at the other, waiting to walk towards him. Like she was precious. Like he couldn’t quite believe it. He looked refreshed, no sign on his face or the drape of his suit of the long day he’d just put in at the office. He looked like a man who’d been waiting for his wife. She sometimes had to remind herself that that was her.
‘Hello,’ Anna said. She reached a hand out and Edward touched her palm with his, like a very slow high five. It was a thing they did. She didn’t remember how it had started.
‘Hello,’ Edward said.
‘So, year one, done.’
‘That’s right, just an eternity to go now.’
Anna laughed, then reached into her bag and pulled out a parcel. ‘For you,’ she said.
‘For me?’ Edward tore off the paper and pulled out the small notebook Anna had chosen. ‘What is it?’
‘Look inside.’
Anna watched his face as he began to turn the pages. It was a collection of photographs of the two of them. She’d had them printed off and stuck them in this book and written little joke-laden captions with reminders of where they’d been and what they’d been doing. One from their London wedding, one from the honeymoon in Rome, one from the first holiday they’d ever gone on together, to Majorca. She’d made sure that in every photo, it was just them. No friends, no family. While putting it together, she’d been flooded with happy memories.
When they’d first met, Anna had had a broken heart. She’d been cheated on by a boyfriend she’d thought she might be with forever, and Edward had been patient, understanding her need to take it slowly, reminding her that he was there, that he always would be. She’d found his solidness reassuring. He was loyal, to family, to friends, to his work, even. It was comforting, and at that time, comfort had mattered more than excitement. She hoped that it always would. She’d staked her life on it.
‘Wow,’ he said. ‘This is wonderful. Thank you so much.’
Anna beamed. She’d taken a long time over the present, and enjoyed seeing how much he liked it.
‘Happy anniversary,’ he said.
