Chapter 3

Lara waited on a bench in Victoria Park and watched a couple of teenagers heading her way along the path, arm in arm, heads bent together and hips touching. Just like she and Flynn used to do when they had come here all those years ago. The boy whispered something in the girl’s ear and she burst out laughing, responding with a playful dig in the ribs. Oh yes, they used to do that too.

As they passed by, the girl said, “…Dad was asking if you’d like to go to the soccer match with him on Saturday, because he’s managed to get an extra ticket.”

The boy’s face lit up. “Cool!”

OK, that didn’t used to happen.

Then her phone rang again.

“Mum, I’m in the park now, by the playground. Where are you?”

Lara spotted her and lifted her hand. “Look higher and over to the right. See me waving? Come on up.”

She sat back and watched as Gigi made her way up the hill. With her long legs, straight, swingy brown hair, and merry silver-gray eyes, she was a head-turner with killer cheekbones and a refreshing lack of vanity. Her beautiful willful daughter, the love of her life, the happiest accident she’d ever had. And by the looks of things she’d been on a spree; her arms were weighed down with bags.

What happened next would be all down to Gigi. Was their world about to change? Who knew?

“Phew, I’m shattered!” Gigi flung herself onto the bench and produced a can of Diet Coke from one of the shopping bags. She opened the ring-pull—tssssssttt—and drank thirstily. “Ah, that’s better. The shops here are great.” She offered Lara the can. “I found this little boutiquey place having the most brilliant sale. Anyway, how was it? What did the lawyer say? Have you got the jewelry?”

This had been the reason for coming down to Bath. When the lawyer had called to inform her of her father’s death and had also suggested they meet to discuss his will, Lara had been mystified. She knew her father too well to expect him to leave her anything of value. The inevitable conclusion was that he was passing on the few items of jewelry that had belonged to her mum. Not much and nothing for Sotheby’s to get excited about, but unbelievably precious nonetheless. All these years on, she could still picture her mum wearing each piece… the tiny daisy ring, the thin bangles, and the three narrow gold chains she’d always worn around her neck. There’d also been a long coral necklace, a jade pendant, and a bracelet of sheeny black pearls.

And it was just as well she could still picture the items of jewelry, seeing as there had been no mention of them this afternoon.

“No. But we’re getting something else.” Lara realized she was still in shock; her hands were trembling. “You’re not going to believe this. It’s the house.”

Gigi choked on her drink. “Are you joking?”

“I wouldn’t.”

“But why? My God, because he felt guilty about kicking you out? Oh wow, that’s so—”

“No,” Lara leaped in before Gigi could start thinking sentimental thoughts about the grandfather she’d never known. “It’s nothing to do with that. The house was never his in the first place.”

“What? How can that happen?” Gigi was stunned. “He’s lived in it for the last thirty years!”

Thirty-two years, actually. When Lara had been born, her parents had been living in a flat in Bradford on Avon, just a few miles outside Bath. Then, when she was three, they had moved into the house she’d grown up in. Her father had worked in a bank. She had always assumed they’d bought it with the help of a mortgage. This afternoon’s meeting with the lawyer had been a revelation in more ways than one.

“The house was bought in my mum’s name. And it was paid for in cash. When she wrote her will she left it in trust for me. But if she died before my father, he was allowed to live there for as long as he needed to. And now he doesn’t need it anymore.” Lara sat back and puffed out her cheeks. “Which means it’s properly mine.”

“We’ve got a house. We’ve actually got a house!” Gigi kicked her legs in the air. “Woo-hoo! We can sell it!”

“Yes.” How much would it fetch? Bearing in mind that this was a super-pricey city. Guessing wildly, Lara estimated four to five hundred thousand pounds.

“Or we could live in it!”

Lara’s heart went thuddity-thud. “You mean here in Bath?”

“I was thinking we could maybe attach it to five million multicolored helium balloons and float it to wherever takes our fancy.” Gigi rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mum, of course here in Bath.”

“Why?” Did she already know the answer to that question?

“Why not? Because we can!” Her daughter’s sweeping arm indicated the park, the trees, the Georgian houses of honey-colored Bath stone, the rolling hills in the distance. “You always said you’d never come back as long as your father was alive. But he’s dead now, so that’s that taken care of. Your mum’s just given you a house. And I really love this city,” said Gigi. “I know this is going to sound mad, but being here for the first time just feels… right. I liked the shops. I like the people. You know when you get that squeeze in your chest, like falling a little bit in love?” She pressed her clenched fist to her breastbone for emphasis. “That’s how I’ve been feeling all afternoon! It’s like coming home.”

“But what about your friends? Wouldn’t you miss them?”

“Mum, we’re eighteen, everyone’s heading off to different places now anyway. Universities… gap years… we’re all moving on. Besides, there’s phones and Facebook, and we can still meet up when we want to. It’s not as if we’d lose touch.” She shrugged and said, “Plus, moving to a new place means making new friends.”

For a moment Lara couldn’t speak. Gigi’s instincts were a huge part of her personality; when she fell in love, whether with a piece of art, a new recipe, unicycling or kayaking or diving, it was never a passing whim. It became a passion.

And in all honesty how could she disagree with this one? She felt exactly the same way. Keswick and the Lake District had been wonderful but she had always loved her hometown, had missed it desperately for so many years.

They could do it. There was nothing to stop them.

Other than Flynn Erskine.