One Perfect Summer

session while I’m in the cinema.
    ‘What happened there?’ he asks irritably.
    ‘Sorry, I pressed the wrong button,’ I fib.
    ‘When are you coming home?’ he demands to know.
    ‘This afternoon.’ Lizzy flashes me a wary glance from the driver’s seat.
    ‘I might come and pick you up,’ he says.
    ‘No, I’ve got a return train ticket for three o’clock,’ I reply steadily. ‘I’m catching up with Lizzy and Ellie today.’
    ‘Didn’t you do enough catching up yesterday?’
    ‘I’ll see you later, Lukas,’ I say firmly.
    Silence.
    ‘Love you,’ I add.
    ‘Bye,’ he says shortly, before hanging up. I switch off my phone and stuff it back into my bag as Lizzy turns into the car park.
    ‘Are you going to tell him what you’ve been doing?’ she asks.
    I shake my head. ‘No. He’d go mad.’
    ‘He can’t blame you for being curious,’ she says reasonably as she pulls into a space.
    ‘He can, and he does.’
    ‘But that’s unfair.’
    ‘It’s not really.’ I look across at her. ‘Put yourself in his shoes. Imagine if . . .’ I can’t say Callum anymore. ‘. . . your future husband’s first love was, I don’t know, Angelina Jolie. Wouldn’t you feel threatened?’
    She thinks about it for a moment, before grinning. ‘Actually, yes.’
    I shrug. ‘Come on, let’s go.’
    Night Fox is even better than Sky Rocket . I’m on the edge of my seat and on an emotional roller coaster from start to finish. When Joe’s character gets killed at the end I actually let out a full-on sob. Beside me, Lizzy laughs tearfully at my reaction and I look across to see her face streaming with tears. I can’t help it: I let out another sob and start to cry properly.
    ‘It’s so sad, isn’t it?’ she says, crying and laughing at our behaviour at the same time.
    I nod, but I can’t speak. She delves into her bag and pulls out a handful of tissues. ‘I knew you’d need these.’
    I’m not ready to stop crying, but the lights have gone on in the cinema and, even though there’s only a handful of other people in here at this time on a Sunday morning and they’re all sniffling, I feel silly. I wish I were at home so I could cry in peace . . . Jesus, no! Imagine if Lukas could see me now!
    ‘Now can you understand why I’ve been to see it three times?’ she asks me pointedly.
    I nod. It’s not the same thing, mind you. It’s different for me. Oh, God, maybe it’s not different for me! Maybe I’m just the same as all the other self-confessed Strike Stalkers that I read about in the middle of the night. That magnetic pull that I felt when I first met him – that POW! moment when our eyes first met – maybe everyone gets that! I can’t bear it.
    I’m still red-eyed and a little tearful on the car journey back to Lizzy’s flat. She’s been enthusiastically discussing the film with me and I’ve been trying to compose myself and readjust to life as I now know it. I do still love Joe – that fact is beyond denial. But I can’t be entirely sure how much of it is love for the Joe that I see on the big screen. That’s got to be a big part of it.
    We’re walking towards Lizzy’s block of flats from the car park when I hear the sound of a car door opening and closing.
    ‘Alice!’
    I turn around to see Lukas standing beside his silver Porsche, a wedding gift from father to son four years ago.
    ‘What are you doing here?’ I gasp.
    ‘I went for a drive,’ he replies. ‘I thought you might like a lift after all.’
    I glance at Lizzy, but she looks away. I can tell she’s not at all impressed.
    ‘I wasn’t going to come home for another couple of hours,’ I tell him pedantically.
    ‘Do you want to come in for a cuppa, Lukas?’ Lizzy asks coolly.
    ‘No. Thank you,’ he replies in an equally cool manner. ‘If you’re not ready I’ll drive around for a bit until you are.’
    I sigh heavily. There’s no point arguing about it. He’s here now. ‘Give me half an hour,’ I say.
    He nods curtly and gets back into his car. Lizzy surreptitiously rolls her eyes as we make our way to the stairs. We can hear the sound of his Porsche engine ricocheting off the apartment block’s walls as he roars onto the main road.
    ‘Sorry about that,’ I say, as we go inside.
    ‘It’s not your fault,’ she replies. ‘Why did he come?’
    I shrug. ‘I guess he missed me.’
    She tuts. I know she also thinks he’s a control freak, but she doesn’t know him like I do.
    She puts the kettle