Friends United by Scarlett Brodie

Chapter 1

1998

Sometimes Lottie wished her house phone had a light which flashed in a secret code, red if bad news, green for ok, exciting or good stuff, like a more sophisticated, news assessment form of caller ID. Then she might not have picked up this call from her friend Gabby. The news definitely warranted a red light.

' I can't believe Vere's writing a book. Supposing he writes about us, about what happened? Honest to God I'm dead scared.' Gabby did sound terrified, thought Lottie as she listened, even over the 'phone without the accompanying facial expressions, she could pick up her best friend's fear. And Gabby's Liverpudlian accent became more pronounced, 'scared' sounded like 'scered' which was a dead giveaway. aaaa

Lottie Grey sighed and ran her hand through her long coffee coloured hair. 'Well university was so long ago now...' It seemed to belong to a different life, carefree, fun almost dreamlike when she looked back at it.

Lottie had consigned what happened in Liverpool all those years ago to the recesses of her mind. Surely their old friend Vere would not revive it in his book. Or would he? It would be like revealing that he used to play kiss chase with the girls at playtime. In Vere's case she thought it would probably have been the girls who chased him. Then Lottie realised that of the five of them, only she would be unaffected. And Vere of course. Perhaps nothing he could reveal would dim the ardour of the tiny group of devotees? Just thinking about Vere made her smile but she knew better than to mention this to Gabby in her present anxious state. Lottie swapped the phone over to the other hand whilst she stirred the baked beans on the burner.

' It's just that I'm on the verge of having my own series. I can't afford any scandal. God it'd ruin it all. '

Lottie rolled her eyes. Gabby was just as prone to exaggeration as ever.' I don't suppose it'll come to that. Who'd be interested in something that happened over ten years ago? It wasn't that bad anyway.' Lottie wasn't convinced by this argument but wanted to try and soothe her friend's worries.

'Mmm. Maybe you're right, Lots. Perhaps it's just my Catholic guilt. ' Lottie sensed Gabby was calming down. Relaxed enough for her natural nosiness to assert itself. Normally Gabby was a Jeremy Paxman like interviewer, tracking down the truth in a hectoring tone which served her well in her role as a journalist/agony aunt. 'Anyway you and Dan, a trial separation! I thought you two were rock solid...'

Lottie couldn't really face explaining about Dr Fancy Pants Fenella, not today. Fenella was the cow who Dan was currently seeing. No, she wouldn't go there. Anyway tea was nearly ready. Cat would be waiting and Lottie couldn't do the heart searching explanation thing and cook at the same time. She aimed for an airy tone which would not invite further questions.

'Well it's happening. Maybe we married too soon. I dunno...'

'How's Cat taken it?'

Lottie smiled at the thought of her daughter. 'Fine, just like any other nearly teenage girl, she's cool about it. She says most of her friends come from broken homes.'

It was true. Catrina just seemed to have taken it calmly as if having parents who were together was almost an aberration. Somehow she and Dan just weren't that close. Despite all his professional knowledge about attachment and bonding in infants, it didn't seemed to have worked with Catrina. Lottie had a vision of him holding their daughter as a baby like he was holding an unexploded bomb. He hadn't been around much when she was tiny anyway. He was too busy completing his PhD and then thrusting forwards in his career as a clinical psychologist.

'So what are we going to do about Vere? The bit in 'The Times' said he was going to reveal explosive secrets.' Gabby's voice brought her back.

' I bet it's just publicity to encourage pre-orders for the book. I mean Vere's bound to be talking about his relationship with Tallulah and with the right marketing the book might be a bestseller.'

Tallulah was a famous model, tall, black and beautiful and her fling with Vere, the lead singer of The Imposters had been well documented, photographed in all the tabloids. Tallulah appeared in perfume ads, was the face of several brands of makeup and crucially an absolutely global star. In contrast Vere was passably famous in America, but here, perhaps because he was a homegrown hero, he remained only a cult figure, interesting, valued but not a household name. In fact his band and music seemed to have dwindled away like the last damp firework in a in garden box selection. A vague phut and a sideways blast and then nothing. Lottie suspected that the book was a desperate attempt to resurrect his career or represented a way for the publishing company to make a fast buck because of the interest in Tallulah.

'But we can't take the chance. We've got to get the gang together and then speak to Vere somehow. This could finish me Lottie...' A note of panic had crept back into Gabby's voice.

'Ok, ok, we'll arrange a get together. I'll call Dan and Johnny and you contact Alex, all right? Bye now.'

Lottie switched off her phone with a sigh. 'Cat tea's ready.' She pulled out the grill pan and reached for the Staffordshire oatcakes and cheese. A vision of Vere as she first knew him came into her head. It distracted her. God he had been good looking. Ouch, she burned her fingers on the hot melted cheese. Damn!

*

Lottie supposed the breakup of her marriage otherwise known as the supposed trial separation was pretty classic stuff. The sort of thing that agony aunts the world over heard time and time again. Maybe that was why she couldn't face talking to Gabby about it. She'd probably flip into professional mode and come out with loads of platitudes about how it was important for kids to be brought up in an environment without rowing parents or how it was crucial to remain on good terms with your ex. Yes, thought Lottie, running off with one of your students had to be right up there with having an affair with your secretary, utterly bloody predictable. Worse though, Lottie had not really suspected anything. She was still unpicking how she felt about the arrival of the stick insect. Something told her she should be more upset about Fenella. She _was_ wounded, her pride had been dented but the total collapse that some people went through in the same circumstances had not yet hit her. She felt detached as if she was watching her own life unfold in a TV drama, an underwhelming one at that. Was she unfeeling? Weird? God only knew.

Lottie made her phone calls and a date was fixed within a week when they would all converge on her little terrace house and talk about their strategy. It had been surprisingly easy to come up with a time and day. It's because they're all so worried, thought Lottie, knowing that Vere's revelations had the capacity to finish them. Thinking of the past, about their decision made her think about when she had first met Dan. He met her when she was at a very low ebb, just after the assault in her second year at university.

Lottie had come back from a party to the student flat she shared with just Gabby. She'd very stupidly allowed one of the boys she'd met that night, a seemingly well mannered youth with boyish good looks, from the rugby club, to walk her home. Lottie knew she'd been naive but he'd obviously taken 'walking her home' as a euphemism for coming in and having casual sex. So he'd barged in, pushed over up against the wall and proceeded to thrust his tongue down her throat and shoved his hand between her legs. Lottie yelled and tried to push him away but soon found serious resistance from his fifteen stone bulk.

'Come on, you know you want it,' he'd hissed as his arms, which felt as thick and hard as a tree trunk tightened their grip on her and held her still. Panic gripped her as well as a terrible rage. How could he have misinterpreted her mildly friendly chatter so disastrously? Suddenly she thought through the consequences of not resisting. Ok so she wasn't a virgin, she'd had a couple of boyfriends but they'd been kind, gentle inexperienced fumblers, totally different from this wild beast of a brute. Fury raged through her body like a tsunami. She was not going to be a rape victim. Summoning strength she didn't know she possessed Lottie had kneed him in the groin and screamed as loudly as she could. Dan, then living in the flat below had come charging to her rescue. He'd taken control of the situation, pulled the rugby boy off and slung him out. Not before the rugger bugger had spitefully punched her in the face and stomach, so furious was he about her protests.

Lottie still remembered Dan's kindness and incisive action. Then he'd seemed like an avenging Angel Gabriel, sandy haired, muscular and compact like the young Kenneth Branagh in Hamlet. Over the months that followed Dan befriended her, listened to her fears and neuroses and moved seamlessly from his role as rescuer to boyfriend. He'd known, she reflected, how to listen, how not to judge and crucially how to build up her often low confidence. Lottie had been grateful, sincerely flattered by his attention and constancy. More importantly Dan gave her space, he did not crowd her, was not at all possessive and recognised her need to be independent, have her own friends, ambitions and life. He was truly a male feminist, something which Lottie valued beyond measure. Lottie knew she never wanted to fall into the same trap as her mother who, by her own admission, had doted and fussed around Lottie's father and was utterly bereft when he upped and left. It was debatable whether she'd ever recovered, Mum was still filled with bitterness and anger. Lottie felt like she was rewriting the script with her new liberated and enlightened relationship.

It was only later that she realised that actually Dan was just like other men, there was nothing noble or particularly modern about him. He'd got bored and pursued a younger, thinner, blonder model. In fact things had once been fine with Dan before the stick insect came and pushed them apart in the most cliched of ways. Fine, but not amazing, she reflected. Thinking about it now, evaluating their relationship seemed to bring some sort of closure to it. She did not want to grow bitter and angry like Helen, her mother.

At 8 o'clock several days later, the four friends gathered in Lottie's sitting room. Lottie had had a lightening tidy up, suddenly aware of how strangers would see her house. A bit cluttered and full of books and junk from school, she realised. So she'd shoved the paperwork about her pupils with Special Educational Needs behind the sofa, given the room a quick hoover and sprayed a bit of polish around. Now the worse was sorted, they'd have to take her as they found her. Catrina was safely settled in the dining room with her friend Demelza watching a dvd, Spice World. 'Spice up your life' could be heard drifting through the open door.

Lottie felt a surge of pleasure as she looked round her cluttered sitting room. Her friends from Liverpool University would be reunited, three were already here, all graduates in Psychology from 1985. This would be the first time they'd been together since they all went their separate ways in June 1985, minus Vere of course, who they were meeting to discuss. And Alex who had yet to arrive. They had made the journey to her house in a village outside Newcastle under Lyme for this important discussion. These people knew her, they had a shared history and Lottie felt that this meant something. A indefinable bond which could not be broken.

There was her estranged husband, Dr Daniel Stubbs ( Lottie had not taken his name on marriage, she didn't actually like it, preferring her own), a clinical psychologist now working at a midlands university running the Professional Clinical Psychologist training course. Dan wore his hair long and seemed to think growing a beard would compensate for his receding hairline. Lottie knew she was being bitchy but she couldn't help noticing his expanding waistline. She supposed Fenella, apparently not given to cooking, expected to be treated to meals out every night. Although he no longer lived with her, he took charge by offering the drinks round. They seemed to have made a tacit decision not to share their recent separation. She knew Dan would be defiant and she, well she felt embarrassed but also annoyed. Only Gabby knew and Lottie felt her friend would be too focused on the job in hand to tell the rest of their friends. Then there was Johnny and Gabby.

'Is Alex coming?' asked Dan, opening another bottle of red wine.

Gabby shrugged. 'He better be. He said he was. I picked this night because he happened to be nearby on his way to cover some match or other.'

'Gabby, it's the FA Cup semi final tomorrow and his old team are playing! Don't you know anything?' said Johnny.

'I don't cover football Johnny. Just agony with a bit of fashion and gossip thrown in.'

Gabby was based in the midlands working for several local newspapers and she also had a radio phone in. But her work always focused on relationships, maybe a little music but she stayed resolutely out of sports.

Alex LeMonde had surprised them all. Not only had he finished his Psychology degree, he had persisted with his first love playing football and risen to play in the Premiership for many seasons. He'd recently retired from playing and now had a lucrative and successful career as a football pundit. Lottie knew he'd come if possible. Just then the doorbell rang.

'That'll be him, saved by the bell,' said Gabby.

Alex looked successful. He wore an expensive suit and had nicely tousled hair and stubble. Not conventionally good looking he was attractive, exuding health and alpha male vibes. Lottie let him in, struck by how young he seemed compared to Dan, five years junior at least.

'Hi folks,' said Alex, smiling to reveal very white teeth. Lottie found herself staring. Someone had had some expensive dental work in the last few years.

'It's great to see you,' she said.

'Hey Johnny, Dan, Gab, how the hell are you all?'

Alex sat down and everyone started talking at once. It was as if they'd been waiting for someone with energy and pizzazz to come in and taken charge. Johnny particularly seemed animated.

'Surprised you could take time off the talk to us. Shouldn't you be learning the teams for tomorrow, finding out all the intriguing little facts to thrill your audiences?'

'Johnny what do you think researchers are for? Anyway how's life in academia? Still swanning about investigating memory in old folk or whatever it is?'

'Hang on I can't quite recall,' said Johnny good naturedly, feigning forgetfulness.

Johnny Manwood worked at the same university as Dan. He conducted complex research into Alzheimer's disease and memory and was, Lottie was reliably informed, very well regarded in his department. A wiry, red headed man, Lottie always thought he looked more like a Hamish or an Alastair. Johnny Manwood sounded more like a upper class twit but Johnny was neither. He had married Melissa, the only student in their final year house who had not studied Psychology but Sociology instead. They had several children under five. Lottie had lost track of exactly how many.

'Mel OK?'

'Fine thanks Lottie, looking after our three. God I wouldn't be without them but they are exhausting.'

Lottie nodded. She hadn't seen Melissa for several years. It was almost as if they had fallen out, but Lottie could not remember this ever happening or guess what they might have argued about. It was just a vague feeling, never articulated, which had grown over time. Lottie decided that she must make an effort to be more friendly towards Melissa and Johnny, put herself out a bit more, even offer to babysit sometime.

'You must come round for dinner,' she told Johnny suddenly.

'So I hear you might be having your own series soon Gabby?' said Alex.

Gabby Bordoli patted her dark hair and her heavy features became animated and attractive. She was the ultimate jolie/laide girl, thought Lottie, sometimes plain, often attractive, even beautiful. She always responded like that to Alex. Always had done. The two had once been in a relationship of sorts but Alex was now very married. Gabby, perhaps unexpectedly for a journalist agony aunt, had a disastrous personal life. Despite only being thirty four she'd been married and divorced twice and had recently split up from her latest partner. Lottie had held her hands through all these messy breakups and they remained, despite their differences, very close.

'It's not been finalised yet and if Vere tells all, I won't get it!' said Gabby with feeling.

'Ah yes,' said Dan, passing round glasses filled with Beaujolais,' the alleged book. What do we know for definite?'

Gabby brandished a newspaper and read.

'Cult hero Imposters' singer Vere Danvers has signed a deal which will see his autobiography launch in October.'

'Just in time for the Christmas sales,' she observed.

_'Vere, 30_ , 'that's a lie, he's thirty four like us' read Gabby,' _promises shocking revelations and secrets. Expect to hear more about his torrid on/off relationship with Tallulah.'_

'What do you think? Would he talk about that day?' said Lottie. 'Surely it's small fry compared to what he does have to write about?'

'It's OK for you,' said Dan, giving Lottie a little smile, which made her want to scream, 'but most of us could be badly affected.'

Lottie restrained the impulse to kick him hard on the shin. What he really means, she thought, is the rest of us are super successful. But you are just a teacher, working with special needs kids in a local primary school and whatever is revealed by Vere will have no impact on you at all. God he could be such an arsehole, he wouldn't even have managed to qualify or become Dr Stubbs if I hadn't supported him and worked whilst Cat was tiny, thought Lottie. Patronising git. She took a deep breath and tried to count to ten. It worked for some of her kids with anger management issues, she wasn't sure it worked for her.

Alex took a big swig of wine. 'Surely all we need to do is ask the old sod? If he's forgotten his promise we'll just remind him, no problem.'

They all looked round at one another. 'Who heard from him last?' asked Dan, ' he and I lost touch...'

Yes, thought Lottie, Vere always said you were pompous, I should have listened to him. There was definitely a self righteous side to Dan however hard he tried to hide it.

'I thought you would still be in touch with him,' said Gabby to Alex,' I mean you with your hotshot lifestyle, don't you come across Vere at dinners or awards ceremonies or something?'

Alex rolled his eyes. 'I haven't seen him for at least three years after they did the Wembley gig. I went back stage but I'm not sure he'd remember to be honest, I think he was pissed.'

'What about you Johnny, didn't he give some money to the university for your research?'

'Yes , he did but I never spoke to him, he just dealt with the department and sent me his latest album, nothing more...'

' I haven't heard from him since he sent tickets for a competition that the newspaper were running, that's about two years ago,' added Gabby, grabbing a handful of Pringles. Everyone seemed to be deep in thought, trying not to notice the sounds of crunching as they all munched snacks.

Lottie looked wildly around and said in a small voice. 'He sent me a birthday card...'

'When was this, years ago?' Dan looked amused.

Lottie wanted to kick him. 'No, last month. Just because you forgot, Vere didn't. He sends me one every year and Christmas cards too.'

'So you've got his address?' said Alex.

Lottie nodded.

'Well you phone him, where does he live?'

'In France and there's no phone number.'

'Write to him then, we'll compose a letter together now, a sort of reminder of the vow we made to one another,' said Gabby,' and we can all sign it. It'll appeal to his noble side I'm sure.'

A reminder thought Lottie? She didn't need reminding about Vere or her days at Liverpool. She was already there.
Chapter 2

1984 Liverpool

Lottie strode down Mount Pleasant, feeling daring having missed her Statistics lecture with boring old Norman Nuttall. Gabby would give her the lecture notes, she was sure. Lottie just wanted to nip into Miss Selfridge and try on the black pinafore she'd seen last week on the sale rail. Lottie also had her eye on a pair of red leather, pointy toed boots which she'd seen in an impossibly trendy little boutique. Sod it. If she didn't eat she could buy something else too. Maybe a new coat as it was getting colder. Only a month of term left before Christmas and she needed something soon. She looked around her. There was something about the buildings in Liverpool and the light, which she swore was different to anywhere else. Along with the sound of seagulls and the general bustle of the place somehow Liverpool always exhilarated her. When she had time she must book that ferry trip across the Mersey, something she wanted to make the effort to do before her final year ended. As she walked along, enjoying the freedom of wearing her new doc martens, black jeans and baggy red jumper, she saw a figure approaching. He was tall, slim with floppy dark hair and wore black jeans, a checked shirt and a donkey jacket. Vere someone, she recognised him from her Psychology course.

Actually she'd had a crush on him all throughout the second year. But she knew from experience that she was much better with blokes if she didn't really fancy them. If she did, it led to her acting weird, struggling to speak and saying sudden things relating to nothing. As had indeed happened. Lottie shuddered as she remembered Vere trying to talk to her at a party. He'd said,

'Do you come here often?' and she was so nervous and flustered that she had gone off into peals of stupid, shrill laughter and when she'd calmed down he had gone. Lottie had just been so thrilled that this cool, trendy, drop dead, gorgeous bloke had talked to her that she'd obviously scared him off completely. Lottie couldn't really blame him. Then she'd got together with Dan and had forgotten all about this mysterious man. She glanced at him as he neared. He was still fanciable, graceful and cool. She drew level and averted her gaze. If he remembers me at all he probably still thinks I'm utterly stupid. I am, she told herself, and ridiculous too.

'Hi, excuse me, aren't you doing Psychology, same as me?' he asked in a drawl. His voice was low, almost a rumble.

Lottie stopped and felt herself blushing, her heart began to pound in her ears.

'Statistics is at 11.30 right?' God that voice, she wanted to hear more. She gave him a covert glance and then fixed her eyes on the pavement and mumbled,

' I think it started at 11, I decided to miss it, couldn't be arsed...'

He gave her an appraising look. Lottie noticed his dark chocolate eyes and lashes.

'Oh, you rebel.'

Lottie decided then she hated him, sarcastic sod. She lifted her face.

'Why aren't you there then?' Her tone sounded a little aggressive even to Lottie's own ears.

He gave her a slow smile which lit up his face and she changed her mind. Wow. Something about his gaze caught her attention. Lottie wanted to take a step back. His gaze was almost hypnotic, as if she had his total attention and it felt flattering, like he was genuinely interested in her.

'Had to look at a flat. Hey why don't we go and get a coffee, whatever your name is?'

Again that smile. Lottie found herself grinning back. Surely it would be OK, nothing could go wrong in a cafe could it?

' Charlotte, Lottie. Ok.' The black pinafore lurking in Miss Selfridges, the pointy toe boots were completely forgotten for now. They headed back up Brownlow Hill to the Guild, dodging students thronging down the pavements. They passed a second hand clothes shop from which the song 'Eleanor Rigby' was belting out. Lottie had never really been a Beatles' fan, that was more her mother's era. But since being in Liverpool she had been assailed by their music, it was played everywhere like a sort of soundtrack to her life here. Lottie had grown sneakingly fond of it. She walked alongside Vere, noticing his loping stride and casting surreptitious glances at him. He was very easy on the eye. She followed him past the new cathedral, 'Paddy's Wigwam' Gabby called it. They crossed over towards the Student Guild and then plunged down into the basement of the Reilly Bar. There was a warm fug, a smell of frying bacon and toasted bread overlain with coffee. The place was full of students, hippy types, new wave trendies with spiky hair and square, earnest ones in Wrangler jeans and faculty sweatshirts. A slight youth wearing a CND t shirt stopped them as they entered, brandishing a clipboard.

'Would you like to fill in this questionnaire about unilateral nuclear disarmament?'

Vere dodged out of the way which left Lottie stranded. Catching the student's bespectacled, earnest expression she took the clipboard and glanced down it, ringing answers randomly. She then passed it back, noting that a leaflet was being proffered.

'Why not come along to our meeting, eight o'clock, here. I'm sure we'd have lots to talk about.'

The student had leaned in closer and Lottie caught a whiff of stale sweat and noticed a sprinkling of spots on his chin. He looked about twelve.

'Maybe.'

She turned away and looked frantically around for Vere. He emerged from behind a pillar laughing.

'He fancied you, I could tell.'

Lottie blushed but was pleased. She grinned back at him, feasting her eyes on his face. Dazed for a second, she then noticed the desultory chatter, laughter and shouts of 'Two full Englishes' from behind the counter and gathered her wits.

She waited at the table whilst he went to get the drinks. On the way she'd found out he was called Vere Danvers, he quite liked Psychology. but didn't know if he'd pursue it after he left. He was from Oxford and had two brothers. Lottie wondered if they were both so good looking and cool. Vere told her the shared house he'd been living in had been condemned because of subsidence so the four students were all looking elsewhere.

Vere came back, wobbling, a tray balanced with two coffees. He'd also bought warm eccles cakes.

'Reilly bar speciality. I love eccles cakes, don't you?'

'Thanks, how much do I owe you?'

Vere held up his hand.' I've just got my rent cheque back, the landlord felt it was the least he could do as his house is literally falling down around our ears. Reckon we need danger money if we stay there any longer.'

Lottie took a sip of coffee and bit into her cake. It was huge, sugary with enormous treacly raisins. 'Mmm. What was the place you looked at today like?'

'Ok but a bit far out, Tuebrook. I'd rather live the other side. Anyway Charlotte Sometimes where do you live?'

Lottie grinned. Serves her right for saying both versions of her name. Vere glanced at her.

'You know Charlotte Sometimes by The Cure? It's one of my favourite songs.'

Lottie nodded.' Mine too. I'm was always Charlotte when I was in trouble, at home or school. And I'm from Alton, near Alton Towers, you know the theme park.'

Vere attacked his cake again.' So Miss Corkscrew, where do you live when you're in Liverpool.'

Lottie told him. A germ of an idea was forming. Should she say or would the others be furious? The subject moved back to music.

'I'm in a band,' said Vere. 'We've got some interest from a label, some A and R bloke's coming up to see us play at the weekend. Why don't you come?'

Lottie looked at him closely. He was just the sort to be in a band, probably as lead singer, she could just imagine him wowing an audience, all the girls would love him.

'Sure I'd love to,' she found herself saying. She had to see him in action, he'd be dynamite.

'Just go to The Vines on Saturday, I'll put your name on the guest list, ask for Ross. You and a couple of friends if you want...'

'Great.' Now was the time to tell him about Dan, her boyfriend. Who was she kidding? He wasn't interested in her like that. Not someone so drop dead gorgeous. Instead she asked,

'So what are your brothers called? It's just I can't imagine what goes with Vere, it's so unusual, I've never even heard of it before.'

Vere grinned. 'Ninian and Piers. I think they're something to do with saints. Or old French. My parents are Oxford dons, very nice but a bit vague. Not quite on this planet somehow. What about yours?'

'Mum's a teacher, Dad left when I was small, I don't see him. I've a younger sister too.'

Vere nodded but there seemed to be nothing much to say to after that. With an effort Lottie stopped her mind wandering off to explore the train crash of her parents' relationship, the feckless but attractive man who was her father. Her mother's maxim, 'handsome is as handsome does' ran through her mind as she glanced at Vere. She realised he was talking.

'I'm off to see two more rooms this afternoon, bit depressing really.' Something about his expression looked boyish. Suddenly she could imagine him as a seven year old skinning his knees and trying not to cry.

'Listen I might be able to help. We've got an empty room, the guy who took it went interrailing in the summer and decided not to come back. It's off Smithdown Road, where you want to live. Why don't you come back with me this afternoon and take a look.'

She was rewarded with his most brilliant smile. It gave her a fizzy feeling in her stomach. She found herself grinning widely back,

'Great.'

*

They got off the bus and turned up a road lined with terrace houses. Lottie led the way, half a step ahead of Vere, suddenly seeing the street and the area from a stranger's eyes. The houses were perhaps Victorian, they had nice features if you looked closely thought Lottie, fancy bits of glass, some with tiled entrances. Lottie recognised that they were not being made the most of though. Mostly the tiny front gardens were full of rubbish, a white broken toilet in one, an upturned pushchair in another. The street was lined with cars on each side . She turned to Vere who was looking round smiling.

'Just up here.'

They reached Garmoyle Road and Lottie led him along to their house, on the corner. The front garden was bare, paved with slabs with a hole in the middle presumably for a plant or shrub. Theirs had a paltry tuft of grass growing well. She led Vere up the short path, wincing as she saw the modern yellow, brick garden walls topped with concrete blocks which clashed horribly with the weathered appearance of the house. God she hoped the place wasn't too messy. Alex and Johnny weren't known for being house proud. And Melissa was possibly worse. She found her key and led him in, trying to ignore the florid, swirly brown and orange carpet that greeted her.

'Here we are,' she said over brightly, a bit like some silly estate agent. 'I'll show you round.'

Vere put his hand on her arm. 'It's OK. Just show me the room.'

Lottie led him up the stairs and along the corridor to the second room on the right. It was large with a bay window overlooking the street. It had the same vibrant carpet, plain cream walls, a single bed, a tatty 1930s wardrobe with a mottled mirror and smelled vaguely of curry. Rust coloured curtains with the hems hanging down and a small table and chair completed the down at heel, student look.

'Great, it'll do nicely.' Again that killer smile.

Lottie thought quickly. She'd heard voices from the kitchen as they'd gone upstairs. It sounded like Johnny. He was the leader somehow, the one who'd organised things with the landlord, sorted out the bills and so on. They really needed to speak to him.

'I'll just see if we can find some of the others...'

They trooped downstairs. Johnny and Alex were concocting some sort of meal in the kitchen.

'Hi Lots, look what this berk's come up with. Fish fingers, sweet corn and banana. Fancy a taste?'

Both Lottie and Vere shook their heads. The food looked awful, a yellow and orange mess.

Johnny looked up at Vere with interest. 'Hi mate, you a friend of Lots?'

'He's come about the room,' said Lottie quickly, 'Vere, he's on our course. The house he's in now is subsiding...'

Alex laughed. 'No way,' he said through a mouthful of food. 'That's tragic.'

Johnny gave Vere an appraising look. 'I've seen you around too. I do Psychology but a BSc so I have lots of science work to do as well. Not like you arty slackers. So you've seen the room, do you like it? Lot told you the rent?'

Vere nodded. 'Yeah, it's fine. I wanted to live over this side anyway. Most of the students are here aren't they? I know there's supposed to be good pubs and everything...'

Just then Melissa toddled in, wearing a long, baggy jumper which seemed to be getting longer every time she wore it. She looked like she'd just got up and her blonde hair was unbrushed and sticking up and she had telltale panda eyes.

'Lo,' she waved a hand and headed over towards the kettle.

'Well the room's yours if you want it,' said Johnny, putting out his hand.

'Cool,' said Vere, shaking Johnny's hand and then Alex's.

'Let's go and hit the pub to celebrate,' said Alex.

Melissa groaned and began spooning coffee into a mug. 'Want one?' she asked the room in general.

'Yeah,' said Lottie, watching Alex and Johnny grab their jackets. Johnny rubbed his hands together. 'The Willowbank it is then. You girls coming?'

Melissa groaned again.

'I'll leave you to your male bonding,' said Lottie, feeling like she might be in the way. Anyway she had loads of time to get to know Vere better.

As they left Vere turned and shrugged in a gesture that said 'what can you do?'

Melissa grinned and put her thumb up, suddenly animated.

' He's all right!'

'I know,' said Lottie. And I saw him first, she added silently. Then another thought ran through her brain. Wait until Gabby saw him. The fact that Gabby was unattached and both she and Melissa had boyfriends did not escape her. All the blokes seemed to fall for Gabby. Why would Vere be any different?
Chapter 3

1984

On Saturday Dan, Gabby and Lottie turned up at The Vines and told the man on the door they were on the guest list. He gave them a 'yeah right look' but then scanned down looking for the name Lottie. The bar was packed and there was an air of anticipation as the crowd waited for 'Hostages of Fortune'. Everywhere Lottie looked she spotted black clad trendies, several with spiky hair. One boy she saw looked so ridiculously over the top, with backcombed hair resembling a bird's nest on top of his head. Others wore eyeliner, tight jeans and pointy toed boots. She must get herself that red pair she'd spotted. Presumably this crowd were all here to see the band. Lottie was impressed, clearly Vere's lot were considered to be seriously cool.

'Yeah, you're here.' The bouncer looked at Dan and Gabby, 'youse the others?'

Dan nodded and the man, a short, squat tank like figure stepped aside to let them through. Dan rolled his eyes and looked ill at ease. Lottie had persuaded him to come, he'd wanted to go to the pictures but she'd argued against it. Her attraction to Vere made her feel like she needed the protection of others. Gabby was her usual slightly manic self was looking round with interest at the band members when they walked onto the makeshift stage. She nudged Lottie when, after a pause, Vere ran on to join them.

'Phoarr!' whispered Gabby,' I wouldn't push him out of bed.'

Dan gave her a filthy look. Funny, thought Lottie, he's allowed to ogle girls but he hates us doing it to blokes.Typical. Vere wore black jeans, a tatty grey suit jacket and his dark hair was tousled. He looked inscrutable, superior and gorgeous. Dan hadn't met Vere yet, as he wasn't moving in until next week, eyed his new housemate coolly,

'Thinks a lot of himself doesn't he?'

Before Lottie could answer the band started up. The first number was a catchy one called, 'Bedroom Eyes', followed by another, 'On a Promise.' The band's sound was a bit ragged, musically a bit like Elvis Costello with Vere's voice a bit like Lloyd Cole, thought Lottie. But Vere's voice was deeper though and more gravelly and it made her hot and then cold. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she listened. Vere seemed utterly self possessed, totally in another zone and lacking all embarrassment. It made him very watchable.

'God,' said Gabby, 'that voice!'

Then the band went off abruptly for a break and Dan dived off to get them a drink.

'What do you think?' Lottie asked him when he returned, wending his way through the crowd. Dan took a swig of beer.

'Not bad are they?'

The three chatted and were joined by Camilla, a friend of Lottie's from back home.

'Good band, they're getting quite a following I hear. Going to see The Bunnymen next week?'

Camilla and Lottie were huge fans of Echo and the Bunnymen and had seen them several times.

'Nah, can't afford it,' said Lottie, 'grant's running low.'

The band looked ready to restart.

'Not quite Ian McCulloch or Robert Smith though is he?' said Camilla as she went to join her friends.

Lottie stared back. Maybe not, she thought but Vere Danvers had something. The next song, one which he sang alone, with his guitar, convinced her even more. It was a haunting, poignant melody called 'Your Latest Squeeze' and seemed to hint at loss and heartbreak with its lyrics,

'When I see you with him I feel a jolt,

I've consulted Freud and Jung

About this lightning bolt

Now I'm stuck in therapy

All because of you and me.'

Then 'Hostages of Fortune' launched into a couple of fast, lively numbers that got people dancing and singing along. And three songs later, it was all over.

As they finished their drinks and people began to leave, the band came back on stage to pack away their equipment. Vere spotted Lottie and made his way over.

'Great you made it,' he said, smiling with genuine pleasure.

Lottie introduced him to Dan and Vere shook his hand.

'Let me get you a drink.'

'Think it's last orders mate,' said Dan .

Vere gave him a wink and gestured over to the barman who poured them all a whisky on the house. Vere sat down at their table, swigging coke and ignoring his scotch.

'God I'm parched, thirsty work, singing.'

'You were great,' said Gabby, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

'Yeah, good sound,' said Dan. After Dan knocked back his whisky, Vere poured his own into Dan's glass.

'Cheers mate.'

'What did you think?' asked Vere, giving Lottie a careful, almost timid look . It seemed totally at odds with how he'd been on stage only ten minutes ago.

She found her eyes drawn to his, unable to stop staring at him.

'Brilliant,' she said,' Hostages of Fortune, cool name, cool band.'

Vere looked pleased and then went to help the rest of the band pack up.

On the way back, while Gabby tried to flag down a taxi, Dan put his arm around Lottie.

'Pretty cool customer that Vere,' he said, swaying slightly, 'I thought they were quite good.'

Lottie gave him a hug. 'Yeah, they were. I think Vere will be Ok living with us.'

Dan kissed her clumsily. 'Thought he was going to be one of those weird twats who wear eyeliner and lipstick but he was Ok.'

Yes, thought Lottie dreamily, he was. More than Ok, amazing!
Chapter 4

1998

Lottie listened as the staff meeting went on and on. Julie Roberts the head was banging on about Ofsted again. Lottie allowed her mind to drift off. Would they get a reply from Vere today? It'd been two weeks since they sent their letter, countersigned by them all. Lottie had had to argue strongly to get them to tone down the tone of it because Gabby, cheered on by Dan had wanted to go in with a tough almost threatening message. In the end she and Alex had won out and written something much milder along the lines of, 'Hear you're writing an autobiography, trust it won't have anything about what happened at Liverpool in it, tell us how you're doing, come and see us.'

The last bit was added by Lottie. She would absolutely love to see Vere, chat to him, find out how he was doing. She'd scribbled her address and phone number on the back of the envelope as an afterthought with a quick message, 'Phone me.' Now she regretted it, it seemed too needy and too keen, but it would be lovely to talk to him again.The only thing holding her back was the fear that he would now find her utterly dull. She was boring, she even bored herself sometimes. She gave a great sigh.

'Yes Lottie, would you like to add something here. Maybe talk about the new Special Needs strategies we've tried this year?'

Lottie jumped and looked around at the mass of faces, all showing various signs of boredom. It was half past five, time to go really but Julie was eager to talk about her plans as Ofsted was overdue and could come soon.

'Yeah well, we've got lots of ideas in place for dyslexic pupils including Reading Recovery which I'm running. The results are looking good...'

Jim Snow, the deputy head snorted. 'Dyslexia, you mean the middle class excuse for having thick kids. Didn't exist in my day!'

Lottie blushed. She felt irritated with Jim. He was one of those old fashioned, bolshy types who strutted around school like he ran it. Unfortunately for him he _was_ acting head until Julie got the job a year ago. Lottie thought he'd never got over losing out to her at the interviews.

'Jim,' said Julie mildly, 'we'll have none of that. I think Lottie's done a marvellous job, well done.'

The meeting ran on for another ten minutes and as soon as it was over Lottie grabbed her stuff, made for her car and headed home. She drove fast, annoyed about the late finish and irritated by Jim's comments. She pushed a tape into her cassette player and grinned as some of her favourite 1980s hits belted out. She sang along to Lloyd Cole's 'Are you ready to be heartbroken?' and then The Cure's 'Boys Don't Cry', batting the dashboard of her yellow 2CV with her hand. Thank God it wasn't long until half term. As Lottie tried to find a parking space outside her house, she frowned. A battered dirty white Saab was parked in her usual place outside the Edwardian terraces . Buggeration! Who was that? Maybe her elderly neighbour Alys had visitors? Much as she liked Alys this lack of parking space made her angry. A long day, a boring bloody meeting and now nowhere to park. Sod it, she thought and pulled up alongside the Saab, blocking whoever it was in. They'd just have to come and to ask her to move. Serves the stupid sod right for parking in her own space, the bloody cheek!

Wearily, she grabbed her bag and headed inside feeling quite defiant. She walked up her path and glanced over at her neighbours. No sign of anyone, no flicker of the curtain. Nothing. As she came through the door into the hall, she was assailed by an aroma of cooking, a sort of fried smell.

'Hi,' she called up the stairs seeing Cat's bag and shoes dumped at the bottom of the stairs, 'want a cup of tea?'

Lottie heard Cat before she saw her, clattering footsteps followed by a coltish mass of legs and hair.

'Hi Mum, I put oven chips in for tea. Thought we could have them with fried eggs and beans, Ok?'

Lottie looked down at her daughter. 'Thanks, you don't normally cook.'

Cat wandered into the kitchen, grabbing a few grapes from the fruit bowl. ' I know you hate Wednesdays and the staff meeting. Just trying to help.' Cat pouted and flicked her hair back.

Lottie grinned. 'Well that's great love, thanks, come and tell me about your day.'

As Cat chatted Lottie tried to shake the feeling that Catrina was looking out for her. But she'd noticed a change in her daughter since her father had left. Cat seemed quieter, more thoughtful and certainly tried to help her out more. She had also recently taken up playing the guitar and had lessons at school. Cat was, her teacher, Mr Rogers assured Lottie, 'very musical, my best student by far!'

Over lightly burned oven chips with eggs, beans and ketchup , Catrina suddenly said.

'Hey Mum, I forgot you had a phone call. Listen I wrote down the man's name. He was French, here you are, from someone called Conchy.' She handed Lottie a post it with a scribbled message.

'Monsieur Donver is not at home. He will be back in a few weeks. Come then.'

Monsieur Donver? Suddenly Lottie gave a great gurgle of laughter. Obviously Donver was how a French person would say Danvers. But where was Vere and why was this conchy person expecting her to go to see him? She needed a drink. Then she'd phone Gabby. Ok so this was a bit confusing but they had some sort of contact with Vere. That was a start surely? They ate and then Cat went upstairs to listen to music and play her guitar.

She was just about to pick up the phone when it rang. Lottie was expecting Gabby but got another voice entirely. It was her sister Emily.

'Hi Lottie, how are you?'

Lottie found herself being a little guarded like when you get a cold call from someone who starts by saying, 'I'm not selling anything,' but you know any minute they'll say, 'we're in you area next week and can come and give you a quote for replacement windows.' Emily, she knew, only really phoned when she wanted something or Mum was worrying her. Last time it had been about Emily's youngest child Fergus, about whom the school had complained because he was so disruptive. Lottie had literally held her sister's hand through the diagnosis of autism and also mediated between Em and her husband Hamish, who like many fathers Lottie knew, had tried to ignore his son's problems and had left Em to attend meetings alone. It wasn't that Hamish was a bad man, Lottie quite liked him, it was more a case of him wanting to bury his head under a beach full of sand, to ignore the problem in the hope that it would disappear.

'Is Fergus all right?'

'Yeah fine. He's doing great and Hamish is coming to terms with the label, thanks to you. No it's not that. Listen you know Dad?'

Lottie's heart seemed to give a huge jolt, almost as if it had been jump started. Prickles of unease raced across her scalp and Lottie found she was gripping the headset.

'Look I know we've never sought him out. But now with Fergus being the way he is- I can't help wondering about him, about his family...'

Lottie felt another twist of anxiety somewhere in her torso. 'Go on...'

'I want to find him. I want to meet him Lottie. I know you've never wanted to but I have to do this. Please?'

Lottie sighed. 'Em, you can do what you want.' Her voice sounded strained even to her own ears. 'Go ahead but I don't want to see him.'

Em tried a wheedling tone, one which Lottie recognised she used to use regularly with Mum. 'Oh, go on Lottie. If I find him, all I want from you is one meeting. If you still hate him then you need never see him again.'

Lottie could not explain her antagonism to her father. She knew it had something to do with her mother, to feeling disloyal , to the inescapable fact that he had never once contacted them in all those years.

'I'm going to do it whatever,' said Em, 'and when I find him I'll ask you again. OK?'

'OK.' Lottie could imagine the expression on her sister's face. Her bottom jaw would be thrust forwards slightly, her eyes staring implacably. They exchanged a few more pleasantries and then Em rang off leaving Lottie's spirits even lower than before.

When she'd finished her meal and was flicking through the paper with her feet up, there was a knock at the door. With a sigh she pattered along the stripped wooden floor, peered through the leaded light window and opened up.

'Yes?'

A man turned to face her. He had mad, curly black hair and dark eyes like blackberries, giving him a gypsy type appearance. He wore a shirt and smart black trousers and looked irritable.

'That your car?' He pointed over towards her 2CV in what she could only describe as a derisory fashion, rolling his eyes.

'Yes, so what?' All of Lottie's annoyance surfaced, the long day, the incipient headache, her sister's call and now the grumpy looking man.

'Can you move it? I can't get out.'

Tight lipped, Lottie grabbed her keys, put her feet in her doc martens, pushing down the backs and tiptoed over to the car. As she did the door swung shut behind her, the yale lock clicked, shutting her out of her own house. Bugger. So much for keeping her sang froid.

The man raised his eyebrows in amusement. Alys could be heard calling over from next door.

'Charlotte come over here, I want to introduce you properly.'

Lottie sighed and went over to her neighbour, Alys Jones, a seventy year old Welsh woman with an insatiable curiosity and a wicked sense of humour. Today she was resplendent in jeans and a red t shirt topped by a denim jacket. Tonight was obviously line dancing night.

'See here Lottie, this is Geraint my nephew.' Alys gestured over towards the gypsy like man, who was watching proceedings with his arms folded. ' The one who's a doctor, our Wyn's boy see.'

Geraint? What sort of name was that? Yes Lottie remembered Aly's long description of how marvellous he was, relayed and embellished every so often. Lottie glanced over at Alys' icon, she still saw the dark, Heathcliff type looks but now she knew more. So the nephew was a dark, brooding doctor who she imagined all the nurses would lust after. Interesting. Unexpected.

'And this Geraint is my lovely neighbour Lottie. The best neighbour I could have, I think of her almost as family and,' she paused dramatically and then added, 'she's not even Welsh. That's how much I think of her, see!'

Then Alys nudged him naughtily and added in a stage whisper, 'She's the one with the fil-em star cheekbones. Lovely aren't they?'

Lottie blushed and wished Alys would stop going on about facial structure. As far as Lottie was concerned her face was bony with sticky out bits on her cheeks. Alys ,though, always said they were the real deal, Katherine Hepburn cheek bones.

Geraint looked suitably unimpressed by her bone structure and Lottie didn't blame him.

'Yes aunty,' he added with a detectable Welsh lilt. He turned his blackberry eyes on Lottie. 'But can you move the car now?'

'Oh Lottie, don't mind him, he's impatient see. Just started worked at the local surgery as a locum and he's staying here 'til he's settled, aren't you boy? He's just going to get the rest of his stuff.'

Lottie gritted her teeth and went to move the car. Bloody surly man. Stupid git. But Lottie felt she had to be civil after the compliments Alys had showered on her. She sighed. All she wanted was to put her feet up and veg out in front of mindless TV.

When she moved her car Geraint leapt into his and drove off at breakneck speed without even a thank you wave.

Lottie moved back into her coveted spot and parked up. She went over to Alys and collected the spare key, which she'd given Alys for emergencies. She had neither the energy nor the patience of trying to attract Cat's attention from her bedroom in the back of the house.

'Cheers Alys. I'll drop it back later, got a pile of marking to do.'

'Well you pop round tomorrow ,' said Alys waving a craggy finger, I have lots of gossip for you and I want your opinion about something as well see?'

'OK I will. Bye.'

Lottie went home and flopped on her chair, feeling mean. Alys was lively, sometimes annoying but lovely. I wonder what news her neighbour had. Alys knows I'd be round to find out sooner or later, she guessed. Lottie was never one to miss the chance of a good gossip.
Chapter 5

Later she picked up the phone and punched in Gabby's number.

'Listen I heard from Vere's caretaker, he phoned and got Cat.'

Gabby sounded confused. 'Caretaker, Cat? What do you mean?'

Lottie explained about the message from the concierge.

' Well Cat said it was from le conchy which I guess is a concierge don't you think? He seems to think we're going over to France for a holiday,' said Lottie excitedly.

'Christ Lottie, all we need to do is speak to the bloody idiot Vere and tell him to remember what we agreed that's all. How difficult can it be?'

'I know but he's not there now.' Gabby seemed particularly slow on the uptake today. What was the matter with her?

'Can't you just phone this concierge guy and ask for his number?'

Lottie felt a rising sense of panic. 'I could,' she said slowly, 'but it means speaking in French and my O' level stuff's really rusty. I suppose he might speak English...But you always said you got an A grade didn't you?'

Lottie heard Gabby give a huge sigh. 'All right. I'll come round tomorrow and we can do it together, French dictionary in hand OK? God, I remember you when we went to La Rochelle!'

Lottie gave a giggle, the memory conjured a sudden image of the 'chambres' they were shown in the hotel she'd booked on a fleeting holiday when they were students. Lottie, Gabby, Melissa and Rosie had gone and, needing to watch their money had agreed to share rooms. She'd got it all arse about face and ordered four double rooms instead of two doubles. The hotel proprietor was not amused and told them in perfect English, 'I think it's best if mademoiselle does not overestimate her prowess in speaking French, which is clearly very limited.'

Gabby started laughing too. 'The way we had to eat all our meals there and she paraded round the dining room reading out the headlines of newspapers. She kept shouting 'Catastrophe!' remember?'

Lottie left the phone smiling. She wondered what had happened to the young woman she used to be, the one who was carefree and quite happy to travel without plans or even funds. She remembered they'd had a riotous week, sunbathing, exploring La Rochelle, flirting with waiters. Melissa had had a holiday romance with Xavier or someone. Wasn't Vere's house in France near La Rochelle? She'd have to look it up, she'd written down the address without thinking about it. She'd do it tomorrow so she could picture where they were phoning.

After work the next day Lottie popped round to see Alys to give her back the emergency key. If Lottie didn't know better she would have sworn that Alys had been waiting for her. The tea was ready suspiciously quickly and biscuits had clearly been put out and displayed on a china plate.

Alys bustled in excitedly. 'Now Lottie, what did you think of my Geraint? Lovely boy isn't he? I've got him a bit of fish in for his tea and tomorrow he's working late and then he's going back to get the rest of his stuff over the weekend.'

Lovely boy was not quite how Lottie would have described the bad tempered, gypsy like creature who she'd met. She decided she better take an interest. Alys had talked about him a lot, as she did about all her family but Lottie had always zoned out. Was he the one who had trained as a policeman or the one who wanted to go to Canada?

'So where was he working before?'

Alys' eyes twinkled away at the prospect of talking about her nephew and she plonked herself next to Lottie.

'Well he's only just qualified. Went into his training a little late because he swapped over from Veterinary Science or was it chemistry? I forget. Anyway he's thirty five now. '

'Oh,' said Lottie, realising that if she just nodded Alys would not notice her lack of enthusiasm.

' He's just left his girlfriend of five years, they drifted apart he said. Now she was a blousy, rotten piece, tattoos all up her arm and one of those nose rings. From Swansea she was. Good riddance I've told him.' Alys snorted in disgust.

Lottie laughed. 'That's no reason to take against her. Some tattoos are quite nice.'

Alys smiled. 'Well anyway. What I wanted to ask you was this.' She suddenly looked quite coy and patted her grey, set hair. 'Now you know Fred from No 18, well he's asked me to a tea dance. Should I go do you think? I don't want to look forward, see.'

Lottie was amused. 'Why would accepting an invitation look forward? You haven't asked him out. Not that I think it's wrong for women to ask men out.'

'Well I thought maybe I should refuse a few times, get him to pester me a bit, see.'

Either Alys was cruel or she had the knack of getting men to jump through hoops for her. Maybe that's where I went wrong, thought Lottie.

'No you go, it'll be lovely.'

Alys gave her a old fashioned look. 'If you think so. You see I couldn't very well ask the boy, Geraint, could I? He wouldn't understand. Well I better get into foxtrot mode. Bit old fashioned after the line dancing, I must say.'

As she left Lottie reflected that even her seventy year old neighbour had a better love life than herself. And social life to come to think of it.

At 8 o'clock Gabby sat in the kitchen, a glass of wine in front of her, a french dictionary and Cat's 'France Aujourd'hui' textbook by her glass. Lottie stood over her ready to shout out any French words which seemed relevant.

'Pardonez moi monsieur, vous parlez anglais? Non, ok,' She rolled her eyes and took a swift slurp of wine as if preparing to do battle.

' Mais monsieur, où est Monsieur Danvers maintenant?'

Gabby had slipped into an impressive French accent and was adding appropriate facial expressions, throwing in the odd Gallic shrug and head toss. Lottie wasn't sure about her prowess in the language though.

'She's asking where he is now,' said Cat, who had also been lured into joining them in case she could help. Gabby's eyes widened and she held the phone out from her ear so that Lottie and Cat could hear the torrent of fast French.

'Peut être vous parlez lentement monsieur? Bien, d'accord. Il arriverai en deux semaines? Bon. Vous avez le numero telephonique pour Monsieur Donvers? Non.'

'Future tense,' said Cat in admiration, 'we just started on that.

Gabby frowned. 'He won't give it out,' she hissed. Lottie could understand this, after all they could be anyone.

'Non, nous ne pouvons pas allez chez Monsieur Donvers, à bientôt Monsieur.'

She put down the phone. 'God he must be the only idiot in the whole country who can't speak English, honestly.' She gave a little shake. 'I think he said that the only way to talk to Vere is to go and see him. Zut alors, as if we can just drop everything and shoot off to Brittany at the drop of a hat?'

Cat coughed. 'Why not?'

Lottie looked sharply at her daughter.

'Well, it's half term in two weeks, so Mum, you could go. I'm going away with Dad remember and Gabby could go with you. You might have a laugh like that other holiday you were telling me about?'

Lottie looked at Gabby, who was pouring out more wine and breathing deeply. 'God that was stressful.' She gave Lottie a hopeful glance. 'Well we'd need to brush up on our French, that's for sure...'

'Oh I couldn't,' said Lottie, who suddenly remembered all the school work she was supposed to be catching up on. She was about to say and 'Cat needs me,' when she realised that this wasn't true. Could she bear to spend the whole week on her own? It would be the first time Cat had been away without her and she was dreading it. It somehow signalled that her marriage was over and that her family was no more. She made a quick decision, looking over at her daughter and her oldest friend. 'Cochons, merde, zut alors, formidable! I'll come.'

'Great,' said Gabby, 'right we have a trip to plan!'

'Can to teach me those swear words?' said Cat, 'then I can use them at school.'
Chapter 6

1984

So Vere moved into Garmoyle Road and Lottie and Gabby reacted immediately, almost imperceptively. Lottie was conscious of washing her hair more often, not slobbing around in her jeans and old jumper quite so much and generally making a bit more of an effort with her appearance. Not only did she try to look nicer, she decided to try to look trendier, to look like someone sussed, up on the latest bands, ready for anything. She started to read the NME, keen to know which bands were in and which were out. She rehearsed their names in case she had need of them. The Teardrop Explodes, Orange Juice, Aztec Camera. She would toss these band names into the conversation, saying nonchalantly, 'I like to keep up.' Lottie even dreamt up little jokes, the next time they were at the Reilly Bar she might order Orange Juice and then hum, 'I never met a girl like you before,' which was one of their hits. Or maybe she should say a boy like you? If Lottie had stopped to think about it, she would have laughed at herself. She didn't stop though, even without being consciously aware of it, she was trying to turn herself into the sort of girl Vere would like.

Gabby had taken to wandering around in her nightie and staring at Vere like he was the last cream cake in the bakery window. Lottie felt strangely excited by having Vere in the room next door to hers. On the first morning the glorious sight of Vere in his jeans with a bare chest, making his way to the bathroom, greeted her. Suddenly she felt guilty.

'I forgot to say, the immersion heater's broken. We usually boil a pan of water to wash with and then go to the Guild bathrooms every other day. There's no shower you see...'

Vere gave her his gallant smile 'After what I've had to put up with, this is paradise believe me. Are you going in for Developmental at 10 o'clock ?'

Lottie nodded. She hadn't been going to but she could always change her plans couldn't she?

' Fancy going to the Reilly bar? Coffee and eccles cakes for breakfast?'

'Yeah, I'll see if the others are coming.'

But Lottie really didn't want the others to come and in the end she didn't ask them. She had noticed that she was behaving oddly, avoiding Dan, almost pretending she wasn't going out with him. She just liked spending time with Vere, talking to him. But she wasn't the only one, so too did Gabby. Melissa seemed less enamoured but then she and Johnny had just got together. She only had eyes for Johnny and continued to wear the same two jumpers which got longer and longer over time. Lottie recognised in her someone who would not modify herself to attract a man. Melissa was as she was and any man would have to take her as they found her.

It was the first of many morning jaunts to the Reilly Bar. There was something about its warm fug and subterranean setting which Lottie liked. They would sit side by side , Lottie revelling in asking him about the band, his home life, what he would do when he finished university.

'I'd like to travel, see a bit of the world, maybe live abroad. What about you?'

Lottie never had a satisfactory answer to this question. She always shrugged and said, 'who knows?' Anyway she preferred to talk about Vere. And in her head a little fantasy grew. She'd meet up with Vere when she was a little older, not too ancient , maybe about thirty at the latest. He'd be bowled over by her sophistication. She'd tell him she and Dan had drifted apart and Vere would sigh in relief and declare his undying love. Lottie wasn't sure why she felt she need to postpone this meeting. Something about being ready, about being better. Definitely about making herself more interesting. Vere seemed so cultured and well read and intelligent. He knew lots of classic authors, Dickens, Shakespeare and so on. Vere could talk confidently about Jack Kerouac and 'On the Road,' but was equally at ease discussing Freud or Piaget. Lottie was mesmerised and felt she would need time to reach the same level. She dragged her mind back to the present. Better try to think of something clever to say.

'What inspires you and the band?' asked Lottie.

'Dunno I just feel the need to be creative I s'pose. To produce something. I feel more alive when I'm doing something like that, even on the side, it makes me a happier bunny.'

'I always wanted to write for children or do illustration,' said Lottie suddenly,' but my Mum wasn't keen. She reckoned it wouldn't lead to a job...So I didn't do English like I wanted. We thought Psychology would be more useful.'

Vere looked horrified. ' Can't you do it on the side, there's lots of courses . I'll ask the drummer Cal if you like, he's at the Art College.'

Lottie felt astonished. She had never for one moment thought about just doing a course because she was interested in it. The idea seemed crazy, almost frivolous but also wildly exciting. In the back of her mind there was always the spectre of work. An image of her mother flashed into her head. Mum was always working hard, marking her junior aged pupils' books, cutting out templates, making up worksheets and planning interesting topics. Lottie saw her Mum single handedly working to keep Lottie and her sister in food, clothes and books. It must have been, she realised for the first time ever, quite a struggle for her.

Bit by bit Lottie found out more about Vere and her liking for him increased. His family sounded fun, a bit vague, well educated but lovely. His parents lectured in Classics and could read both Latin and Greek. This made Vere seem exotic, almost like a Greek God himself with his elegant physique and his grace. Lottie felt almost feverish when she was around him and increasingly snappy with Dan. But she couldn't offer any real explanation for how she was behaving and had not thought through what might happen if she were no longer with Dan. She and Vere certainly enjoyed one another's company. But did Vere like her at all in that way? If so, he gave no particular sign. He was pleasant and charming to all of them. That was the problem. Lottie resolved to keep her feelings in check until she had a sign. And if one never came well, she'd survive somehow. 
Chapter 7

As in the past Lottie and the rest of the household began to get excited about Christmas. Johnny, as usual, made a decision.

'We've got to have a party,' he told them all. 'Last week of term, yeah?'

Most people were around except Vere who was out at band practice.

'Bagsy do the decorations,' shouted Gabby.

'Dan, Alex and me will get the booze. Can everyone manage a tenner for the kitty?'

Lottie realised she'd have to remember which of her posters she'd stuck the emergency £10 note behind. Probably it was lurking behind Humphrey Bogart or maybe Marilyn Monroe. This hiding of money was a technique Lottie had developed in her second year. It made her feel secure to have bits of money hidden away. She did not want to ask Mum for more. She did not want to be like some of her friends, always pestering parents and was determined to manage her grant. There might even be, Lottie thought, something behind her Siouxsie and the Banshees poster as well. Possibly even slipped inside the sleeve of her latest Cure album.

'Just ask anyone you'd like to come,' said Johnny.

Lottie knew that, almost by osmosis almost, the place would be heaving on the night without any apparent effort on their part. She decided to plan her outfit carefully. First job, a hair cut.

The next morning, feeling decadent because she'd found two £10 notes behind Humphrey, she took a taxi into town. Wandering around she spotted a billboard outside her usual hairdressers. 'Models wanted, apply within.'

Two hours later Lottie emerged with an exaggerated bob, dyed black. The hairdressers had dyed her fringe and part of the short, shaved V shape at the back, bright red, by bleaching the hair first and then adding crazy colour.

'Come 'ed love, you can have this bit of colour to touch yer her up yourself.' The hairdresser handed over a small bottle. 'See you this avey for the photos.'

'Thanks,' said Lottie. She loved her new hair and thought an afternoon having her photo taken for the stylist's portfolio was a small price to pay for a free haircut. It also meant that she missed her seminar with Dr Laso. In fact her attitude to her work had slipped recently, all she could think about was looking cool and Vere. I deserve a bit of a break, she told herself, I worked hard last year. Lottie also nipped to a boutique on Upper Parliament St called Déjà Vu where she'd spotted the red boots. Trendy music, which Lottie didn't recognise was blaring out. Maybe her research from the NME wasn't quite extensive enough? The shop looked dark and cramped. Lottie paused by the door and then, taking a deep breath, stepped over the threshold. Supposing they throw me out, she thought, for not being fashionable enough?

Inside, the shop was smaller than her Garmoyle Road bedroom. There were about two rails of ill assorted, what looked like vintage clothes and a few piles of boxes. A bored looking boy, all dressed in black with bleached blond spiky hair stared blankly at her. Why were trendy people always so thin, she thought? This boy had snake like hips and his studded black leather belt was wrapped around his waist twice. There was no one else in the shop. Lottie smiled at him and went over to flick through the clothes desperately hoping someone else would come in to detract attention from her. After about five minutes she decided she'd better ask about those boots. She went over to the boy who was now flicking through an NME, sucking on a fag and blowing smoke rings through his mouth.

'Excuse me?'

The boy looked up. Lottie nearly stepped back in horror. She gave a little gasp and tried to disguise it by coughing. The boy had black contact lens in, completely covering his irises so that his eyes were totally black, not just the pupils.

'S'awright, everyone does that,' he said. 'Wha' can I do for you?'

Lottie explained about the pointy toed boots she'd seen in the window a few weeks back.

'Just let me look, they were dead popular but we might have a few pairs left.'

Lottie waited while he went to look. He came back carrying box.

'Last pair,' he said, 'size 6.'

'I'll take them,' said Lottie. She handed over the last of her cash, £15 and made to leave the shop.

'Don't you want to try 'em love? Only dey come a bit small like...'

Lottie waved aside his objections and left. It'd be OK. The fact that there was one pair left was serendipity, she just knew it.

Come Friday night the house was filling up nicely. Vere had opted to do the music which meant him making mix tapes of tracks and playing them over and over.

'I'll do a good mix of stuff,' he had assured them, 'no Hostages of Fortunes songs in sight.' Everyone had laughed at his self deprecation but Lottie knew the band were good. She wouldn't have minded hearing 'Your Latest Squeeze' again.

Lottie wore a black holey, punky jumper over tight black jeans. She put a red t shirt under the jumper, pulled on her pointy toed boots and topped it with a black tail coat she'd bought the other day from a market store. It stank of mothballs. Lottie, having no money to buy perfume did what she usually did, shook drops of vanilla essence which she'd bought earlier from the Spar shop, all over it and on the insides of her wrists. The boots were a tight fit. Lottie was usually a size seven. She had to pull to get them on, yanking the leather. She even had to snip the black elastic triangle on the left one and put her foot up on a chair to get extra leverage. Never mind, she reasoned, if she drank a bit she'd never notice, it wasn't as if she was walking around much, just staying in the house, dancing about, trying to look cool .

By ten Lottie glanced around and saw the house on was filling up nicely. New Order's Blue Monday was belting out and people were starting to dance. Mostly this consisted of shuffling around whilst keeping their coats on. Some jokers even wore dark glasses which Lottie knew looked daft but also, she sneakingly thought, quite trendy too. As usual the house was cold but Lottie knew it'd warm up soon with all the body heat. Lottie spotted a bloke she used to know from home who was at the same hall of residence, Nigel 'Holiday Snaps' Baxter. He was a boring old sod who would spend hours going on about his skiing holidays and showing accompanying photos ad nauseum. Who the hell had invited him? Lottie made a mental note to avoid him. She glanced around the room. Someone had also rigged up some lights and these were flashing along to the throaty beat. The house smelled of beer and cigarette smoke and food. Melissa had insisted on cooking trays of baked potatoes, garlic bread and making an enormous chilli. Lottie fought her way through to join her in the kitchen. The table had been pushed back and was covered in assorted booze. Someone was trying to open a bottle by pushing the pointy bit of an umbrella down through the cork. There were cheers as the cork sank and the wine , a cheap lambrusco, overflowed, bubbling over onto the floor.

Dan and a group of his mates from the climbing club were messing about with bottles of homebrew. In the corner Gabby and some of her fellow drama society members were chatting animatedly about next term's production. There was no sign of Vere. Lottie went back into the sitting room where all the furniture had been pushed back and which was now heaving with dancers. She suddenly saw Vere arrive, flanked by his fellow band members and a small, dark haired girl with her hair all back combed and pinned up, wearing lots of makeup and a very short black dress.

'Who's the Miners' advert?' asked Gabby, pointing to the girl's excessive makeup. 'Haven't seen her around.'

Whoever she was, Vere knew her well. Pretty soon the pair were dancing, bumping hips together in a silly, flirty way. Then Vere stopped, took her face in his hands and the two were kissing passionately.

'Blimey, he's a quick worker,' said Gabby, looking most put out. She'd told Lottie earlier that tonight was the night she was 'going to make a move' on Vere.

'I've had a bath, I don't smell, I'm ready for anything,' she'd added, guffawing. Lottie smiled back but felt weird, as if a hand had reached right into her chest and given her heart a savage pinch. Bloody hell, she was stupid about Vere. It had to stop. But how can I make my mind think different thoughts?

Lottie wandered over towards Gav, the band bassist who was chatting to the drummer, Cal. It took a while for her to take in the transformation of Gav. The last time she'd seen him he'd been channelling a sort of rock god, wearing super tight spray on striped jeans, a tight tie dyed top and he'd had long, flowing dyed blond hair. Now his hair had been cut to shoulder length, backcombed on top of his head. He wore a battledress drop, tight black jeans, a thick studded belt and pointy boots.

'Like the new look,' said Lottie, laughing at how different he looked.

'Yeah well, it's all in the name of art. Trying to look the part in case we ever get signed like.'

Lottie felt a rush of affection for him, suddenly aware of how important being in the band was for him. Somehow though, even with the careful copying of trends Gav looked like what he was, a young lad with a wide, homely face, short stocky limbs and despite his best efforts, rather ridiculous. Somehow he reminded Lottie of a solid Hereford bullock which was fattening up nicely. Gav leaned closer.

'Not that Vere has to try, he just looks cool whatever. Lucky bastard. All the girls flock round him.'

Lottie nodded. It was true. Vere didn't go for an exaggerated styling, just ruffled hair, jeans and shirts with the ever present battered, leather jacket. With his height, grace and elegance he didn't need help to look fashionable. Somehow looking like he didn't try rendered him more attractive than ever.

'Who's that girl?' she asked him, nodding over towards Vere.

Gav grinned. 'Oh, it's his latest. Shaz or Trace or something. She's at the poly. Fit isn't she?'

Lottie made herself smile. Gav suddenly narrowed his eyes giving her a shrewd look.

'Hey not you as well?'

Christ no, she thought, terrified that her secret was out. Lottie grinned manically.

'God no, don't be daft. Anyway I'm with Dan.'

Gav didn't look convinced but turned his attention to Cal.

Lottie gazed over at Vere and the girl. The two were now totally engrossed in each other. She felt a sort of falling sensation. As if her stomach had dropped to the floor. Then a dagger of pain hit her. Jealousy. If she had any doubt about her crush on Vere, this decided her. It was official. She really, really liked him. And he really, really liked someone else. Buggeration. For a moment she was disorientated and stood there consumed by emotion. Then someone nearby, a smallish fair haired man with round glasses bumped into her. She recognised him from one of the Carnatic Halls she'd been in as a first year.

'Sorry, I was just asking people,' he said, 'about their views on Checkov. What do you think of him?'

Lottie rolled her eyes. Didn't he have any better conversation starters? God, now she could place him, he was that nerd who seemed to follow them about all the first term. A Greek bloke called Costos or something who was doing English. He stared at her expectantly and she knew an answer was required.

'Wasn't he a chess player?'

Costos screwed up his face horribly. 'My God! You are the most ignorant person I've ever met!' he shouted and turned on his heel. Stung, Lottie stood there with her mouth open. Bloody hell. The night was going from bad to worse. Utterly disastrously.

Back in the kitchen Lottie spotted a tall, dark haired bloke who looked vaguely familiar.

'Who's that ?'she asked Gabby who was swigging Asti Spumante. Her friend too had had a makeover. Her hair was tied up in ribbon in a Madonna type way and she wore a tight black skirt, patterned tights and clutched the wine bottle wearing little net gloves. Lottie could tell she was well on the way to being pissed, her eyes glittered dangerously beneath her black fringe and she was swaying slightly.

'Oh that's Piers, Vere's big bro. Didn't you meet him? Lovely isn't he? I'm going to get off with him, you watch this.'

Gabby staggered over and introduced herself. Lottie recognised her friend in full on flirting mode, lips pouting, eyes smouldering. She'd seen Gabby like this before and as far as Lottie knew she always got her man. Lottie had time to study Piers more closely. He was a little shorter than Vere with similar hair, his slightly lighter. He wore faded jeans and an old suit jacket. His face looked a bit like Vere's too, variations on a theme really, darkish eyes, a slightly wider face, still good looking but not, thought Lottie loyally, as handsome as Vere, quite. He seemed to find Gabby entertaining and took the bottle she offered, taking a deep draft. Suddenly Lottie felt that she was left behind, everyone was drunker than her and having a better time. She couldn't have Vere, he was taken and so now it seemed was his brother. The bloody Danvers boys were a pain in the neck. All her longings stirred. Why was she so taken up with Vere when she was with Dan, it made no sense to her. And she, who didn't go for greatest looking blokes because they always let you down. What was the matter with her?

Then she did the only thing she could think of. She staggered to the drinks table, grabbed an open bottle of wine and wandered over to find Dan who was chatting to Alex about football. She sat on Dan's knee. Then she kicked off her pointy red boots, noticing the red weals and smudges of blood on the backs of her heels. Bloody boots. Wearing them had been agony.

'Hi babe, OK?'

And there she stayed, all flirty, getting drunker and more tactile. She wouldn't think about bloody Vere anyway. He was, if she was honest way out her league anyway. She'd stick to Dan who she knew and loved. Dan who had rescued her, her Angel Gabriel, her guardian angel anyway. They were destined to be together her and Dan, they understood one another, didn't they?
Chapter 8

1998

School was frantic at the moment. Lottie struggled during SATS week, desperate for the Special Needs kids to at least have a stab at the papers and torn between the desire to help them and frustration that she couldn't. The teaching assistants who she managed worked hard, being endlessly inventive, kind and upbeat. Lottie was thrilled at how Adam, a boy with cerebral palsy had persisted and despite his poor hand control, completed most of the English SATs paper. Watching him work, tongue poking out with concentration, she felt her heart swell with pride and tears prick at her eyes. When she collected in his paper she really did cry. He really had managed to finish the whole thing and his handwriting ,which they had been working on all year, although still scruffy was definitely legible. Lottie felt a surge of pride. She and her team had really helped Adam and she knew he was going to do OK. By Friday Lottie thought the team had earned tea out at the local pub. As Cat was going to her friend Demelza's after school so there would be no need to rush back.

By 4.30pm Lottie, Grace and Becks sat round a table in the corner of the dining room, reading the menus.

'We've got to have at least one proper drink,' said Lottie, 'I'm buying, it's the least I can do after all your hard work this week.'

'Ta love,' said Becks.

Sipping a white wine spritzer and tucking into lasagne and chips, Lottie felt her tiredness recede.

'Got anything planned this weekend?' asked Grace. She was a single girl in her early twenties and usually led a really busy social life.

'Nah, just jobs and catching up with stuff,' said Becks, who had two young sons and a husband who worked long hours as a policeman.

'Me neither,' said Lottie, 'just sleep and eat. Chuck a few clothes in the machine, wave the hoover around, help Cat with her homework that sort of thing.'

Grace took a gulp of Guinness. 'Well I _was_ going to go and see Lemon Meringue, that cool band from Manchester but the concert has been cancelled. I don't quite get it, something to do with the support band The Imposters. In fact the whole tour's been called off.'

Lottie froze, The Imposters, that was Vere's band. She frowned, 'Why?'

Grace leaned forwards, her face full of intrigue. 'Something about their lead singer. I don't know why Lemon Meringue can't just get a new support band but it's the contract. Apparently The Imposters used to be quite famous.'

Yeah, thought Lottie, they did. And they still have a cult following. She didn't expect Grace to know that. Lottie tried not to look too interested. She could not face revealing to these girls that she knew Vere. She could not quite explain why, some sort of protective mechanism maybe, or the need to hug what she knew about him to herself. To talk about him might dilute her memories and she definitely didn't want that.

'So what's up with this singer then?' she asked casually.

Grace sighed. 'No-one knows. Hope he's not a druggy but that's probably it isn't it? Or maybe the band's about to split up. At least then,' she added robustly, 'I get my ticket money back.'

Lottie was quieter for the rest of the meal and as soon as she went home and phoned Gabby.

'Listen Vere's ill...'

'Yes I was going to ring you. Tolly says he's suffering from nervous exhaustion.'

Tolly was a scarily trendy music correspondent and a friend of Gabby's. The only time Lottie had met him she spent most of the time consciously censoring her conversation, trying not to talk about prosaic things like her daughter or work, in front of this professionally cool man. Gabby told her later that he'd said she was 'sweet and very quiet' which made her feel like a gauche fourteen year old. As usual Lottie suspected that he and Gabby had once been an item but she had no idea how things stood between them now. But the lingering eyes meets, the way he rested his hand on the inside of her knee, were all suggestive of intimacy.

'Nervous exhaustion? Should we still go over to see him? Supposing he has to be hospitalised or go to a private clinic or something?' Lottie had only a very hazy idea of how these things might work but clearly it would not be worth going over to France if he wasn't going to be there.

'Christ Lottie I've just booked the bloody ferry. 2 o'clock Saturday the 25th from Portsmouth to Le Havre. It cost a packet to go for the longer crossing but then there's a shorter drive and I thought you'd prefer that. We have to go Lots, I had to blag to get the leave and everything!'

Lottie gulped. 'I know and I've booked the chalet for seven nights.'

She didn't explain that actually she'd done it through an English company and had not had to speak any French at all. She'd found them a small chalet on a campsite near to where Vere lived. But it was a bargain too as the real holiday season wouldn't have yet started.

'Well I can't face phoning Monsieur Concierge up again so sod it, let's just go. If we don't see Vere we can still have a good time. Sea sun and sangria.'

Lottie laughed. 'Don't you mean wine?'

'Yeah well probably. But if we _do_ see Vere, just think, who are the only people you'd want to see when you're feeling knackered?'

'Your family? You mum?'

'No you berk, some of your oldest friends from uni that's who. We'll be able to minister to his brow and look after him for a few days. It'll be fine, don't worry.'
Chapter 9

The rest of the week flew by in a whirl of washing and packing. Lottie was determined to be grown up about the fact that Cat was going to spend time with Dan and the stick insect. They were going on one of those activity holiday things where there were literally hundreds of activities to choose from and you stayed in log cabins in a forest. Cat, newly converted to riding, was looking forwards to the pony trekking.

'Oh God I'll miss you,' said Lottie as she pulled Cat's suitcase off the top of the wardrobe.

'Mum, I'll be fine,' said Cat. Recently Cat had started to treat her with a sort of friendly teenage disdain as if she had become a bit of an embarrassment. Lottie worked hard to curb her tongue. She really wanted to say lots of bitchy things about Fenella and of course Dan. She imagined Fenella being super professional, all text book parenting about giving preteens space and trying to 'relate' to Cat. Fenella was also, she acknowledged, quite cool with her whippet thin figure, long blonde hair and permanent heels. She suspected that Cat admired her style and couldn't really blame her. She was definitely a change from her own mother with her messy, pale skin and soft curves. Lottie felt about as stylish as old sofa and just as out of shape. She had vague thoughts about doing something about herself. Gabby though was one step ahead of her.

'Thought I'd surprise you,' she said in one of their many phone calls to plan the trip. 'I'm coming up on Thursday night and then I've arranged for us to go to that health spa in the morning. Then lunch, the hairdressers and a trip around the shops OK?'

'Wow,' stammered Lottie, 'that'll be great!'

'Well we need to make the most of ourselves. I don't want Vere to see me looking anything less than my best and I'm sure you don't either. And if he's not there then there's always the chance of meeting other charming Frenchmen.'

Lottie came off the phone smiling. Gabby had always had that effect on her. There was something about her confidence and energy that swept you along in its wake. She was a force of nature, someone to be reckoned with. Lottie felt a surge of optimism. She was going to have fun, not sit around worrying about how Cat was getting on with Dan and the stick insect.

Lottie and Gabby met Cat out of school and shot off for more shopping including last minute things for Cat.

'Wow Mum I love your hair,' said Cat. Lottie was pleased with it herself. The hairdresser, Maureen, had put layers into her long caramel and coffee hair and added a fringe. Somehow it fell sexily and emphasised her eyes and cheekbones. Gabby too had had her dark hair cut into a choppy bob which flattered her strong, Italian like features.

Lottie has also bought a new bikini, two linen sundresses, one pink, one green, some sandals and a pink cashmere cardigan with seed pearls sewn all around the edge. She was now feeling guilty and keen to buy Cat a few things.

By about five o'clock they landed in a pizza parlour and all giddy and high, exchanging compliments and showing off their new clothes. Later after they'd arrived home and Cat had been persuaded to go to bed, Lottie remembered to nip round to Alys' to explain that she was going away for a week. Geraint answered.

'Oh,' said Lottie, 'just wanted to tell Alys something. Is she there?'

A look crossed his face but Lottie wasn't quite sure what it meant.' She's out,' he said curtly.

'Look, just tell her I'm away next week. She usually comes round and waters the plants and stuff.'

Lottie suddenly remembered what Alys had said, she couldn't resist adding, 'So did you enjoy your bit of fish?'

Geraint grunted and looked blank. No sense of humour whatsoever thought Lottie. In fact he's the dullest man I ever met. Or boy she thought, as Alys referred to him. No wonder he and his girlfriend had drifted apart.

Just as she was getting ready for bed the phone rang. Lottie ran to it thinking it might be important, I mean who phoned after 10pm. It could be about Mum, anything. It was her sister, Em.

'I've found Dad. I've written. He's a freelance journalist and lives in London. He's remarried. I hope he wants to see me, us. Listen don't say anything. Think about it though Lots.'

The use of her girlhood name slightly lessened Lottie's irritation.

'OK. Now bugger off. Me and Gabby are up early and off to France tomorrow and I'm about to turn in.'

'Lucky cow.' Em rang off as Lottie struggled to take in this information. Why now? She thought for a moment how exhausted Em must be looking after Fergus with all his strange rituals and insistence on routine. Maybe she should have offered the trip to Em too? God, she needed to be nicer to her sister. Lottie knew from her work at school how exhausting it was looking after kids, especially ones with special needs. And Em had six year old Flora too. She'd do better in the future, really she would. It was ages before she could sleep. Memories of her father, images of the photos they had of him whirled round her head like a travel montage from an old black and white movie.

Next morning they were all up early.

'So all set Cat?' asked Gabby.

'Yeah, Dad's picking me up at 9. '

'I'll see you next Saturday,' said Lottie.

Dan came in to talk to them and collect Cat's case.

He seemed so open and friendly today that Lottie was taken aback. She'd not seen him like this for years. It must be going well with Fenella then. She had a sudden flashback to how things were when Cat was tiny. How brilliant he was when she was pregnant, how proud and protective. He had stood up to his family, told them he was marrying Lottie whatever. They had only been twenty two though. Lottie looked at him. Where had it all gone wrong? To begin with she had somehow felt that the balance of power was with her. Dan had seemed so keen to be married, so keen to be grown up, to set up house with her, to plan for Cat. Later though, when Cat was about six , things got trickier. Dan became more remote, spending longer and longer at work. Somehow she sensed that Dan was disappointed in her. He seemed to find her company dull, preferring his colleagues. He began to talk in vague, psychobabble speak, never answering a simple question. He would always give a carefully monitored, cagey answer, talking about paradigms, corollaries, narratives and formulations. He had no time for her jolly, little stories about the children she taught. He'd kept saying, 'Teaching is beneath you Lottie. You're better than this. At least apply for the Educational Psychology course and use your brain more.'

Lottie had become angry. It was OK for him. He'd managed to do his doctorate with her full support, with someone in the background looking after Cat, cooking, doing the laundry. Who would help her? Lottie knew it wouldn't be Dan. He was far too busy. Then there was always the tacit assumption that they might have another child. It was something she longed for, still did in fact. But you needed to sleep together to produce one and that became a rarer occurrence.The worst of it was that Lottie felt her support had enabled him to move ahead in his career but also to resent her for not doing the same. It was so unfair, so ironic. When he went off with Fenella, the stick insect, she'd felt some relief but also sadness. Now she studied him, he looked older, a bit careworn but at least he was smiling, happy and prepared to talk.

'Good luck with finding Vere,' he said, standing awkwardly in the kitchen. It was always going to be like this now, thought Lottie. Thanks God Gabby's here to smooth it over.

'Yeah leave it to us,' said Gabby, sounding very confident. Dan grinned but Lottie could see he was tense.

'It's just if it comes out, what happened, I don't know how I'll stand with the university with my academic post.'

'Oh me neither,' said Gabby. 'I've got talks about a series when I get back but the TV company are considering several other people. Any whiff of scandal will ruin it for me. And I need this series.'

Lottie felt nervous all over again. Because she would be least affected, having the most prosaic job, she tended to forget how important their mission was. Suddenly she felt like a member of resistance about to be catapulted into wartime France. They could not afford to fail.

'Your car all right?' asked Dan rather uncharacteristically. He had, throughout their marriage, never taken any interest in their cars.

'Yeah, I had a recent service, so it should be OK,' said Lottie thinking of her battered but trusty faded, yellow Citroen 2CV.

'Good luck then.'

Lottie clung to Cat but seeing Gabby's face decided to be brave. It was just for a week and she was going to be with her father, a person who loved and cared for her. Nothing could really go wrong.

'See you on Saturday darling.'

Lottie hovered on the pavement waving until Dan's car was out of sight. She blinked back tears and ignored the swelling of her throat and the pricking of tears.

'Right,' said Gabby as soon as the car vanished round the corner. 'Sling your gear in the 2CV, it's time to get this show on the road.'
Chapter 10

1985

When Lottie got back to Liverpool after Christmas Vere was moodily playing the guitar in the kitchen. The end of term had been a bit of a blur. They'd all left a couple of days after the party. Lottie hadn't seen Piers or Vere again after the rowdy bash. They seemed to be holed up in their rooms, Vere with Shaz or whatever her name was and Piers with her friend. Gabby sneaked out once and had confided that Piers was amazing, she explained why in some detail which for some reason made Lottie squirm. Lottie now felt a little embarrassed to talk to Vere, because of the revelations about Piers and the fact that they were brothers. But now he had a girlfriend though, maybe she could go for being mates, play the friendly housemate role, after all that's what they were, right?

'Hi, good Christmas?' Lottie asked Vere.

'Yeah, ok, you know, you?'

'Yeah fine.' It had been OK, thought Lottie, nice to see Emily but Mum had been downcast. On the last night she had confided that she had been seeing Geoff, a teacher from the same school as her. He'd ended the relationship just before Christmas rendering her mother depressed and downhearted. Mum had repeatedly said,

'He was too good looking, I should have learned. Handsome is as handsome does. Just like your father.'

The refrain,' just like your father' was uttered so bitterly, so spitefully that Lottie had winced. Whatever Bill Grey had done, it still hurt her mother. She had tried to remember his face. It was no use she couldn't. Lottie thought it would be nice to meet him just once, maybe find out his side of the story. The fact that he'd never contacted her or Emily hurt though. He must really not care about them at all, she told herself and therefore wasn't really worth wasting any time on.

She and Emily had rallied round and they'd had a jollyish new year toasting Big Ben's chimes and watching The Old Grey Whistle Test on TV. Somehow they seemed to have got into a pattern with she and Emily supporting Mum. There was always the tacit acknowledgement that their life would be better if Lottie and Emily's dad had turned out not to be such a bastard. If Lottie really tried she remembered a man with toffee coloured hair, dark eyes and strong cheekbones. He had been an art teacher but at some point, when Lottie was about five years of age, then had had some sort of career crisis, so had chucked in his job and gone travelling. Lottie still remembered the shock and disbelief, the waiting and waiting for him to return, to send them some sign that he remembered and cared about them. Her memories were distilled into a few little video clips, Dad whirling her round in his arms, the feel of his stubble on her cheek, his drawings, bold pencil strokes of animals, little sketches that she'd treasured. In many ways she was still waiting. Waiting for the right time to try to find William Grey. Occasionally she got out the one folded and refolded black and white photo that she had of him. She'd salvaged it from Mum's room and used the photo to try to conjure up his image. But he still looked like a stranger. She gave her head a slight shake and dragged her mind back to the present. Vere had asked her what sort of Christmas she'd had.

'Yeah it was fine thanks,' Lottie told Vere.

He seemed, Lottie thought, a little distracted. Then Gabby and Dan arrived and Lottie put the kettle on and delved into a big bag of food from home, discovering a packet of jammy dodger biscuits. She passed these round.

Over tea everyone gossiped about the break. Lottie didn't tell them that she'd been to stay with Dan in between Christmas and New Year but hadn't had a particularly nice time. Dan's father, Mr Stubbs didn't seem to like her and made comments like,

'Well I don't suppose we'll see you again.'

Dan's mother looked horrified and said,

'Nonsense we'll see Lottie at Easter or in the summer won't we dear?'

He was clearly hoping Dan would finish with her when they left university. Why he seemed to dislike her so much was unfathomable to her. Lottie usually got on with most people and had never exchanged a cross word with him. He also asked her lots of questions about politics, grilling her about what she thought of the Brighton Bombings and so on. One the last day he'd suggested she went out for a walk, 'to get some of that fat off' which, as Lottie was average sized, seemed rather cruel. She had absolutely no idea why he seemed to hate her so much and even fewer ideas about what to do about this. In the end she'd been relieved to get away and spend a few days with her mother and sister just relaxing at home.

Dan came in and helped himself to the last of the rather stewed tea.

'God it's going to be hard work this term. We've all got those projects to do and then we've got to start our dissertations.'

Lottie felt Dan's keenness was partly due to his horrible dad who had frequently reminded them that he and Lottie were languishing at university at the taxpayers' expense.

Gabby added gloomily. 'I've either got to get a job or spend next to nothing this term. Most of my grant cheque will be swallowed up by my overdraft.'

Vere lightened the mood. 'Listen it's Shaz's birthday tomorrow and I thought we could all go to the Guild, to the Alternative Rock Night.' He looked at Gabby, 'It's cheap and Shaz, being at the art college has never been.'

Lottie surprised herself by agreeing to this quickly. Anything not to have to think about projects and dissertations and worse still, what she was going to do at the end of it all.

They all piled down to the Guild at 9 o'clock the next night. Shaz was waiting by the entrance and Lottie noticed that her face shone as soon as she spotted Vere. She leapt up and hugged him excitedly and then spotted them all and cried, 'Youse all come, great!'

Lottie was interested to find out that she spoke broad Liverpudlian. Not that she was snobby but Shaz didn't seem to quite fit in with Vere and his upper middle class background. Not that it stopped them all getting on. In the end they had a great evening. The music was fabulous, lots of student favourites like The Cure, Echo and the Bunnymen, Siouxsie and the Banshees, New Order and The Smiths. Shaz was very entertaining when they went to the toilet together saying things like,

' Can I have a try of yer lippy Lot?'

She laughed at one girl who had a lot of makeup on and said, when the girl had left, ' Did you see her Mars bar?'

Lottie and Gabby looked confused .

'It's her blusher stripes. Looks like a Mars bar, doesn't it?'

Gabby burst out laughing. Shaz was actually really good fun with a vivacious and humorous take on life. She even got Dan dancing, which was very unusual. He usually stood around the edges of the dance floor, drinking. Shaz was so full of good humour that Lottie wasn't surprised when another student they didn't know asked her to dance. Her reply was to point to Gabby and say,

'Ask me mate, I'm sweating,' which sent them all into convulsions.

Lottie watched Shaz and Vere together and decided that he was less keen. He seemed to slightly shrink away from her and Lottie wondered if that was why he'd persuaded them all to come, to dilute her company. Dan seemed quite taken with her though and was in an unusually good mood.

They were all dancing along to U2's 'I Will Follow' when Gav, from the band appeared. He took Vere aside, talking earnestly to him and then there was lots of back slapping and whoops. Lottie was intrigued.

'Good news?'

Vere grinned. 'Great! That guy who saw us at The Vines is bringing his A and R man from RCA to watch us. We've got a gig in a month. He really liked our demo tape!'

Lottie was very excited for him. 'That's terrific. Brill.'

Gav was already getting the drinks in and they all danced and laughed until thrown out of Guild. Much later they walked home through Sefton Park. It was freezing but no one noticed. Dan put his arm round her.

'I'm sorry my dad was such a pig to you over New Year. He's a total bastard isn't he? Don't know how my mum puts up with him.'

Lottie was really pleased that Dan had noticed. He hadn't said anything before and Lottie had been hurt especially as her own mother was always so nice to Dan.

'S'ok,' she said tipsily.

Dan stood in front of her and lifted her face to his. 'Look I know I've been a bit miserable myself but I really want this to work. I think you're fab, you do know that don't you?' They kissed and Lottie felt a warm glow. Back at the house she led Dan to her room.

Next morning she wasn't even put out to find Shaz cooking bacon in the kitchen. ' Great night, wasn't it. Thanks for coming Lot and making me so welcome. I know all Vere's friends are dead clever and posh but you're all dead nice too.'

Lottie smiled. 'We all get on well don't we?' They really did, she thought. For once she felt secure and relaxed in her role of helpful housemate to Vere, just good friends, nothing more. She was safe in her relationship with Dan , she knew where she was with him. He was attentive but gave her lots of freedom. He was not one of those possessive types who was always wanting to know where she was, he trusted her but was there when she needed him. That was a sign of a grown up, mature, sensible relationship, wasn't it?
Chapter 11

A couple of weeks later Vere knocked on Lottie's door when she was writing an essay entitled.' Is Daycare bad for under fives? Discuss this with reference to attachment theory.'

'Hi,' he came into her room. Lottie realised he hadn't been in here before, even though their rooms were next door to each other. Vere looked round with interest.

'Cool I like your poster of Humphrey Bogart. In fact your room's amazing. Great how you've covered the swirly carpet with rugs.'

'Couldn't stand it.'

Vere stood but eventually sat on the side of the bed. Having him there made Lottie feel hot. She was glad she had made the bed and glanced round to check that there were none of her grubby knickers on the floor or worse Dan's boxers. Phew it seemed OK.

'Listen Lot, I wonder if we could do this project thing together. You know how you were going to do that thing about positive ions ,well, I thought I could do something similar but look at memory.'

Lottie had been forced to choose a project by her tutor Dr Laso and had come up with the idea of investigating the effects of positive ions on people. She had just begun to realise that conducting psychological experiments was quite complex and the university insisted on them using real people and running pilots projects and doing it all properly.

Vere was watching her face carefully. 'I thought we could help one another. We could share resources and books, it might make it all easier. I mean the project seems a bit daunting now doesn't it?'

Lottie smiled. 'It's a great idea. I don't know why I didn't think of it. We could get the same people to do yours and mine together. Genius!'

In fact she was relieved. The standards for psychology were very high and Dr Laso had been very direct at their last tutorial.

'Charlotte you need to work harder otherwise you're heading for a 2/2 and you used to be one of my best students. I expected a 2/1 at least. So put your back into it, Ok!'

'Are you around later?' asked Vere, 'We could nip to the Willowbank to talk about it.'

'Sure. About 8?'

Everyone else from the house seemed to be out. Dan had gone to Rainhill Psychiatric Hospital with Johnny and some other people from their course who were doing the Abnormal Psychology unit. They talked to the patients and played games like bingo with them. Lottie had been once last year but found it sad and was embarrassed when one male patient followed her around and then pulled down his pyjama bottoms to flash at her. Not a pretty sight and although everyone from the course laughed and thought it was a great joke, Lottie had decided there and then that this sort of work wasn't for her. She had plumped for Developmental Psychology this year instead.

A fat lot of essay writing Lottie did after that. It was already half six. Lottie had washed her hair and bathed earlier at the Guild bathrooms. She loved going there, revelling in the endless hot water and always taking a good book and bubbles so she could enjoy a really long soak. Today she'd read Middlemarch and nibbled on a bar of marzipan covered chocolate. Glorious. But she had hardly any clean clothes. Eventually after she'd worked her way through most of her wardrobe she found a cleanish pair of black jeans and an oversized yellow shirt. She pulled her hair, which had grown, into a ponytail and painted on dramatic eye makeup with ticks at the corners of her eyes. Then she decided it was too much and rubbed most of it off again. The problem was the red fringe which now, because she'd run out of red crazy colour, had faded to a vague pink. It looked awful. Thinking frantically Lottie suddenly had the idea of painting on red ink. She had a bottle which she sometimes used when writing letters to Emily and the occasional one home. She opened the bottle and dipped her fringe in it, careful to wipe off the excess ink with loo roll. Lottie went over to the mirror. Perfect. The red colour was restored. She put on her black ankle boots with the small heel and grabbed her dinner jacket which had several brooches on it. She glanced in the mirror. She'd do.

Lottie then sat back at her desk so that when Vere knocked she would look like she was working. All she really did for the next half hour was doodle 'Vere n' Lot' on her essay notes. Immature prat, she told herself.

'You look great,' said Vere when he came to get her, 'I like that sort of Sade inspired look. Shall we go?'

They walked through the streets to get to The Willowbank. Lottie got the drinks in and they found a quiet corner of the pub to sit in.

'So,' said Vere, 'the project.'

They talked a for a bit about their ideas. Lottie found herself gazing at Vere. His hair had grown and now it flopped over his eyes and he kept pushing it back impatiently. He had a light stubble and his dark colouring contrasted well with his red checked shirt, black jeans and battered leather jacket. He was easily the best looking man she'd seen for a long time with his honey coloured skin and mobile, slightly sulky looking mouth. As he talked he moved his hands around and noticed how sensitive and shapely they were. Tanned with square nails.

The conversation stuck a bit though and Lottie wondered if it was just because this was the first time they'd been out alone together or because of something else. Vere was normally very upbeat.

'It's great about the A and R man. When's he coming again?'

'Yeah, next week,' said Vere, smiling but then going quiet. What is it, thought Lottie? Is he going to go all serious on me? Maybe things were not going well with Shaz?

'You OK Vere?' she said. 'You seem a bit down.'

He got up and went to the bar without saying anything.

Oh shit, thought Lottie, I've upset him now, in a minute he'll want to go back to the house and then he'll never speak to me again. I should have kept my gob shut.

Vere came back with the drinks and plonked them down. He gave a sigh, gazed at her and began. 'The thing is I always find February 1st really tricky. You see it's an anniversary...'

Lottie stared at him. Anniversary? What a wedding one? What other sorts were there?

'Five years ago today my sister, Ophelia, died. It was leukaemia. It's always really hard. I normally go home but this year I thought no, it's been five years I should move on, start to cope, but it's hard.'

Lottie stared at his distressed face, wanting to take hold of his hand but not quite daring 'What happened?'

He half smiled and leaned closer. 'Today I was going to get the train back to Oxford but I just couldn't face it. I think Ninian and Piers are with my parents. They get so upset, it's so sad. And then I thought Lottie would understand, talk to her...'

'Yes,' she said simply and took his hand. 'Tell me about her.'

'She was eight years old. Just a scrap of a girl. We all adored her. My mum and dad, they always wanted a girl and well, when she was born, we boys were a bit put out, we thought a girl? But as she grew we all loved her. She was really good fun, bright, original, funny. We used to call her Pheely. But then she got ill and everything changed and we all struggled. She battled for over a year, there were lots of false dawns. I was tested to see if I was a match for her bone marrow but I wasn't. None of us were.'

Lottie had tears in her eyes now. God she'd never complain about her sister again. 'I'm so sorry. It must have been awful.'

'God sorry Lottie, I'm crap company tonight.'

'It's OK, just talk as much as you want.' Lottie found herself stroking his arm. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair, flick the floppy fringe back into place but didn't dare. Instead she listened, watching him, with genuine sympathy.

'I just get so sad when I think of all the things she never got to do. Grow up, have boyfriends, go to college.'

Lottie listened, trying to say reassuring things. She felt enormously flattered that he could tell her all this and determined not to let him down. She tried to think about the stages of grief which they'd done about last year. There had been all that stuff about anniversaries and how they brought it all back. Poor, poor Ophelia. Eventually she said,

'Have you spoken to your parents today then?'

He shook his head. 'No I just didn't turn up.'

She looked at her watch. It was nearly 10 o'clock.

'Look ring them. There's a phone box on the way home. They'll understand.' Lottie didn't know if this was true but she thought if Vere could talk about his feelings so eloquently that he must have got it from somewhere. She guessed that they were one of those emotionally literate families. A far cry from Dan and his ruddy father. And Mum, most of the time.

'Ok, I will.'

So on the way back they stopped at a phone box and Lottie waited outside while Vere made the call. She'd found him lots of 10ps and was prepared to wait ages until he'd used them all.

As she waited, leaning against a shop door, a woman with a headscarf appeared and knocked on the door of the box. Then she waited, arms folded, looking annoyed.

'Do youse think he'll be much longer? I've got to get hold of me auld fella. Honest to God it's dead cold waiting here, I'll tell you that for nothink.'

Lottie smiled back at her and tried to engage the woman in conversation, anything to help the time pass and make it easier for Vere when he did finish.

Five minutes later he emerged smiling. They walked back to the house. 'All right?' asked Lottie timidly.

'Yeah, they were fine. Mum said that they didn't expect us all to keep going back for the anniversary. Dad sounded ok too. Nin's there but Piers couldn't make it either.' Vere took her arm as they walked along Garmoyle Road.

'Do you feel better, even a bit?'

Vere stopped and gave her a long hug, holding her really tightly and cosily. Lottie relaxed against him thinking how well their bodies fitted together. 'Yeah loads. Thanks for that Lottie, you're a true mate. I told Mum I'd been talking to you and she said you must be very special.'

He gazed at her for a few seconds and traced his fingers down the side of her face. 'You're one in a million Lottie. You know how I...'

'Hey,' called a voice, 'you got your key? I've lost mine and Dan's too pissed to find his.'

Lottie turned. It was Johnny, holding up a very drunk Dan. They'd walked to the house from the opposite direction and had clearly been drinking heavily. Vere grinned and helped Johnny lead Dan, who was staggering all over the place, into the house.

'Lottie,' said Dan, staring glassily at her, ' I missed you babe!' he slurred before passing out in the hall. He was too heavy to carry upstairs, his room being on the second floor. It was later, after she'd tucked a sleeping bag round Dan, prone on the sofa downstairs, that she remembered what Vere had been saying before Dan and Johnny had appeared, 'You know how I...' What? she thought!
Chapter 12

1998

As soon as she set foot on the ferry, after the hassle of parking on the car deck, Lottie began to feel different. They went for a coffee and all the prices were in French and English. The staff crew looked and sounded French, they looked much more stylish than their British counterparts too. Lottie caught sight of herself in a passing mirror with Gabby. They looked like a pair of international travellers, Gabby looked French or Italian and Lottie looked Irish. With their newly cut hair and revamped wardrobe, Lottie realised they were attracting glances from attractive men. They went for a sit down in one of the lounges and read, Lottie opening Bridget Jones Diary while Gabby scanned Vogue and Tatler. Actually Lottie couldn't concentrate feeling jumpy and excited. Her mind was on the trip ahead. How would Vere be? It was about six years since she'd actually seen him and that had been for a brief coffee whilst Dan was at work and Cat was at school. He'd been amusing, funny and good company but she had been paralysed by fear because she was talking to a famous, albeit in a cult type way, man. Lottie had been conscious of not boring him to death talking about her job or Cat and had even decided not to show him the photos of her daughter that she'd grabbed on her way out. Vere had looked at her fondly, but she was left with the impression that he had long since outgrown her.

'Christ I'm starving. Let's head for a meal, I could kill a drink,' said Gabby.

It was four thirty and they were due to arrive at Le Havre at seven.

'Should we? We might be too drunk to drive.'

Gabby gave her a withering look. 'Christ Lottie, this is France, everyone drives after knocking back half a bottle of wine in their lunchtime. Don't you know anything?'

On the way to the restaurant they stopped off at the duty free shop and sprayed perfume over themselves so that they smelt absolutely gorgeous.

'Christ this one smells divine but which is it?' asked Gabby, sniffing the inside of her elbow.

'Buggered if I know,' said Lottie and they strode off to eat, laughing. Lottie experienced a curious light feeling. There was no little person to have to entertain, no one to have to watch and see if she was getting up to mischief. Freedom, she realised but then felt incredibly guilty.

'I'm having moules, said Gabby, 'and we need a bottle of chilled sancerre with them. What about you?'

Lottie chose a caesar salad followed by a crème brûlée. She listened to the waiters talking quick French amongst themselves.

'Elle a beaucoup d'allure,' she heard one say, nodding at Gabby.

Then he turned and winked at Lottie herself, giving her a real leer. She turned away and frowned, feeling a little confused. Gabby looked on, rolling her eyes.

'Come on Lottie, you look good, you're going to have to get used to attention from men again. And it's about time you got back into dating. Can't stay on your own for ever.'

Lottie grinned. Gabby was right but suddenly Lottie wanted to change the subject.

'Listen, have I told you that Em's trying to get in touch with our father, William? He's a freelance journalist and lives in London. He remarried and has a son and wants us to get together.'

Gabby leaned forwards. 'But you're not keen?'

Lottie sighed.' I dunno Gabs. All I heard as I grew up was what a bastard he was. And I don't know if I can forgive him for abandoning us. We never heard anything from him. Not even a postcard...'

'But you only have your mum's version of events. It wouldn't hurt to hear his side. And wouldn't it be nice to meet your half brother?'

'Oh I don't know. I told Em I'd think about it. Perhaps he had his reasons but still. Men, they make fools of us all...'

'Anyway what did happen with you and Dan and the stick insect Dr Fenella ? You never did actually tell me.'

Lottie sighed and began to recount the whole sorry tale. How Dan had got more and more into his life at the university, started to enjoy the challenge of training up clinical psychology students and then met the stick insect.

Gabby drank in the details. 'So she was one of his students. I suppose that makes sense. She looks up to him and flatters him and then pow!'

Lottie wished she wouldn't make it all sound so inevitable.

'Mind you he has let himself go a bit hasn't he? Thickening waistline, receding hair, awful, nutty professor look.'

Lottie laughed. 'All the academics look like that. Tweedy jackets, old fogey clothes, an air of detachment from reality...'

'Anyway you know what I think of him. He was always too serious, too up himself for you. I used to think you were much better suited to Vere but you missed the boat there. Still there's plenty more fish in the sea,' she said kindly, 'especially with you looking so good now.'

Lottie felt a little knife twist in her stomach at the comment about Vere. She feigned lightheartedness.

'Thanks,' said Lottie, 'what did I look like before?'

'Same basic ingredients just a bit sad I s'pose. Anyway I've got an on /off relationship with Tolly but if someone else comes along I wouldn't say no to a nice holiday romance. We could both have a fling. Here's to our holiday!'

The waiter who had poured the wine had clearly heard the last bit and turned to wink at them which made Lottie grin. Perhaps it was going to be a good holiday, she thought.

'Here's to us and finding Vere!' she said as they chinked their glasses together. 'Santé!'
Chapter 13

Lottie drove to begin with, trying hard to remember to drive on the right.

'Don't worry Lot,' explained Gabby,' I've got it all sorted. I've made a couple of my special cassettes of eighties music so we can relive our youth on the way. I'll bung them on loud and it'll keep you alert.'

Lottie was hoping that they were going to share the driving but demurred for now. It was typical of Gabby to focus on trivialities like what sort of music they had on.

'What about the route?' Dan usually dealt with this sort of thing when they went on holiday.

'I'll get the map,' said Gabby doubtfully as The Cure's 'Inbetween Days' belted out.

'Oh I used to love this,' shouted Lottie over the music, 'it was one of my absolute faves.'

'I know,' said Gabby, 'I used to live in the room above you remember. You played it on repeat for about three weeks before your finals.'

Lottie sighed. She remembered her musical crazes. No need to go into that she thought, better concentrate. Right head for Morlaix.

Lottie was glad of the tape, even though she had to turn it down when Gabby fell asleep. She was strongly reminded of Alternative Music nights down at the Student Guild when you could turn up in your

jeans and a t-shirt and dance the night away drinking lager and lime for about 50p a half pint. The tape played on and Echo and the Bunnymen sang about 'The Killing Moon', The Psychedelic Furs about 'Love My Way' and Lloyd Cole about 'Perfect Skin'.

The music filled her with optimism, they would find Vere and have fun, he would not have thought of betraying them. Then when they'd returned Lottie would get on with her life, maybe find a new man, maybe even have another child. The one that had never materialised with Dan despite their best efforts. When she really thought about it, it was this failure which had most likely done for her and Dan. Maybe they were no longer compatible in that way. Dan certainly had not been willing to undergo tests or to look into their low fertility. He assumed after having had one child, that there was nothing wrong with them. There was of course another explanation but she pushed down that thought, stamped on it, like she had done for so many years. Lottie's mind wandered a little, turning over the possibilities and she knew it was time to stop for a break. Gabby dozed next to her.

As she reached the outskirts of Morlaix she was conscious of a bit of a noise coming from outside of the car. What was it? A sort of da dum, da dum noise. She turned off the music. The car seemed to be veering to one side as well. Damn, she recognised that sound now. A ruddy puncture. Had she bothered to check her spare wheel and had it mended since the last puncture? She pulled over in a gateway and prodded Gabby.

'Wake up, bloody puncture.'

'Uh, what?'

'Get out and give us a hand.'

Lottie was feeling utterly flustered now. She raced round the back of the car, threw open the boot and began taking the bags out. Lottie hefted Gabby's huge, shiny, red pull along suitcase out of the boot, followed by her own faded, spotty rucksack with the dodgy handles.

'Buggeration. Where's the spare?'

She scrambled about unloading stuff until she finally lifted the tatty black mat and found the spare wheel underneath. Wedged inside was a scrap of material wrapped around a few tools. One of them she recognised as the long wheel wrench that also doubled as the starting handle and raised the jack. Bob, the avuncular man at the garage must have checked them at the last service and added oil and grease. Thank God for men like Bob.

' Right,' she unfolded the scrap of material. 'There's special points where you can put the jack, some arrows under the chassis.'

Lottie knelt down and began looking where to position the jack. Meanwhile cars sped past.

Gabby looked around rather helplessly. 'Christ Lots you're not thinking of changing it yourself? Sod that, I'll show a bit of leg and see if one of these passing gallic blokes will do it.'

Lottie rolled her eyes. Gabby had always been selective in her understanding of feminist principles. Lottie knew she could do it. The car was light and the garage had made sure the wheel nuts were well greased. If she could jack up the car, loosen the nuts and swap the wheel. God, was that the right way round? wheel. Did you loosen the nuts before using the jack? Damn!

'Right here goes, there's the point, 'I'll just get this jack up.'

Just as she worked out how to operate the jack there was a squeal of brakes.

'Great someone's stopped.'

A deep french voice said, 'Ça va mesdames?'

Lottie stopped, wondering when she'd become madame. She much preferred mademoiselle.

Gabby must have been fluttering her eyelashes because the next thing she heard was, 'Alors mesdames, allow me.'

She looked up to find a bit of a god standing there, a man of medium height, compact with dirty blond hair and beautiful, plasticine features who was watching her attempts to change the wheel with amusement.

Lottie stood back and let him take over. No point in breaking her nails if this guy was going to be all gallant.

He turned the wheel brace, unloosening all four nuts a little at a time and then eased off the wheel.

'The spare, si vous plait?'

He wiggled the wheel on and quickly tightened up the wheel nuts before removing the jack.

'Bien, c'est bon. Alors, I am Jean Pierre, enchantez mesdames.'

He wiped his oily hand on his faded jeans and shook hands with them both.

'Gabby and Lottie.'

Jean Pierre regarded them both with twinkling, rather wicked looking eyes. Lottie saw him appraise them both and his eyes returned to Gabby, alight with interest.

'Votre amie, she did very well,' he said, in a strong accent ' I am, how you say, impressed.'

He bowed towards them.

'Where are you heading?'

'Plougasnou,' said Gabby.

'Fantastique! I live near there, allow me, suivez moi .'

They leapt into their car.

'Now he's what I call a bit of all right,' said Gabby.'First chance I get I'll take his number. We can invite him for a drink to thank him.'

Lottie smiled. Gabby might just have found her holiday romance a few hours into their trip. Typical.
Chapter 14

1985

Lottie was conscious of a lot of activity in the days leading up to the gig, when the A and R man was due to see Hostages of Fortune. She hardly saw Vere but was aware of a stream of visits by the band members, Gav, Cal and a pimply youth who was new. Apparently the previous guitarist had stormed out because of 'musical differences.' At night she heard Vere practicing various riffs and chords. An air of tension and anticipation seemed to pervade the house. By the appointed day Vere was pale, distracted and uncommunicative. By the evening Lottie could hear him pacing his room. She noticed that he'd started smoking and the smell of cigarettes permeated the corridor as she passed his door on the way to her room. There also seemed to be no sign of Shaz recently and Lottie wondered whether she'd been banished because of the gig or whether she and Vere had had a falling out. At seven o'clock, before Vere was due to go to the Vines, Lottie plucked up courage and knocked on his door.

'Listen I just wanted to say good luck tonight. If it's anything like the gig I saw I think he'll be blown away.'

Vere was lying on his bed blowing smoke rings.

'Thanks, sweet of you Lots. I dunno. I'm beginning to think we're crap. I might not even go myself. '

Lottie walked in and looked at him in horror. 'God Vere, you're not serious? You've got to go. And I think you're fantastic.'

Vere smiled and suddenly grabbed Lottie arm with his hand. He stared into her eyes, so intently that she felt her senses race and an intense heat like a blush travel up her body. He leaned forwards and whispered, 'Me or the band?'

Lottie stared back in confusion. How could she answer that? Her whole body wanted to scream, YOU, but before she could respond Vere dropped her hand and said, 'Don't answer that. Thanks Lot, I'll be OK. '

Suddenly he stood up grabbed his guitar and left. Lottie was left standing alone in his room, mouth open, wondering what to do next. She desperately wanted to follow him to watch the gig but she hadn't been asked. As far as she knew she was the only one who knew that the band was being visited by the A and R man tonight. I'll talk to him later and see how it went, she decided. She did not even trust herself to go and discuss this with Gabby. Knowing Gabby, she would want to go and watch the gig. She would not be sensitive to how Vere would view this or pause to think how nervous he might be. Lottie's heart was full so she resolved to go for a walk around to clear her head. Maybe it'd help her think. The last thing Lottie could face was being normal around the other housemates, especially Dan, when she knew Vere was involved in something so massive, so important to him. Fortunately Dan was out at Rainhill and would be back late. Lottie knew he would go to his own room later.

Vere tiptoed in about one o'clock. Lottie, hearing the squeaky floorboard squeak outside her room, roused herself and crept out of her room.

'Hi Vere, how did it go?'

In the dim light Lottie saw him grimace. He looked grim faced and sombre like he'd just been told an acquaintance had died. He opened his door and gestured that she should follow him in.

Once in he slumped in his desk chair and grabbed a bottle from his jacket pocket . He took off the lid, had a swig and passed it over to her. Lottie took a tentative gulp and waited. Whisky. This did not look good. Vere seemed shattered. She waited and then asked,

'So?'

He sighed. It was a long sigh, the sort of noise that seemed so melancholy, so heartfelt it made Lottie want to cry. Obviously the stupid A and R man hadn't liked Hostages of Fortune then. What shall I say Lottie thought? How can I ask?

' So it didn't go so well?' she ventured.

Vere looked glassily ahead. Lottie realised that he had drunk an awful lot already.

'You know Lots, I really reckon if it wasn't for Dan...' he slurred.

Lottie found herself feeling uncomfortable. All she needed was a drunken declaration. Didn't he realise that what she felt about him was serious, not some passing fancy that came out when you were drunk? She decided to ignore him.

'So what did this A and R man actually say then?'

Vere took the bottle that she'd been holding back and put the lid on. He put it down, moving awkwardly. Lottie was now kneeling by his feet, she was fed up with crouching trying to catch his mumbled words. Vere reached over and ran his hand down the side of her face. Then he reached for her hand. Lottie felt a pulse like electricity race up her arm. His thumb was tracing little circles on her palm which made her want to gasp and throw her arms around his neck. Hold him close, breathe him in.

'You are such a good mate. Forget what I said about Dan. No honest Lots, you are the best, the nicest, kindest person I know, I think. '

Lottie smiled but was desperate to know what had happened.

'Well?'

'Well the A and R man, Terry, he liked me.'

'Fantastic so why the long face?'

Vere ran his fingers through her hair, gazing at her intently.

'Because he only liked me, he said he rest of the band had to go. Called Gav a retard... Cal a neanderthal...'

'What?' Lottie struggled to take this in. Obviously Vere was the star of the band, he was definitely the most talented, the best looking, the nicest. Lottie knew she was biased of course. But the others were OK too. True Cal was a bit on the short and squat side. She didn't know if he was a good musician. Gav looked OK, especially after his makeover but whether he was any good, who knew? She could see that the new pimply youth might come across as a bit of an idiot. But what did the A and R man want?

'So now what?'

Vere took another deep sigh. 'So nothing. I haven't told them what he said, just that he didn't like us. I can't Lottie, they're my mates...'

Lottie found herself patting his hand absently. 'I know, I know , of course...' she said, lost in thought. Poor Vere, what a massive disappointment. When she shifted to get comfortable, to shake out her legs, she noticed that Vere's eyes were closed. He was asleep, exhausted no doubt by the emotion and the booze. Lottie tenderly tucked some blankets around him as he slept in the chair. Then she tiptoed back to her own room. 'If it wasn't for Dan...' she thought, then what?
Chapter 15

Lottie found that she had to spend quite a lot of time in the next few weeks working with Vere on their projects. They were going to test the effects of negative ions on people. The research suggested that negative ions, like the ones found in strong winds like the Mistral that blew in France had good effects on people. Too many positive ions caused headaches and problems with mental processes and even movement. It was Dr Laso's idea and her tutor had suggested something similar to Vere. She could pretend that she was wildly interested in the effect of ions on people but in truth her tutor had donated the whole experimental design and never one to work too hard, she'd latched onto his ideas. Lottie had decided to get her subjects to type two passages, one in a room with negative ions, provided by an ioniser, one without. Then she would measure the speed and accuracy of their work with and without negative ions. Vere's experiment was similar but he would ask people to perform simple memory tests with and without negative ions. They had advertised on the Eleanor Rathbone building noticeboard for volunteers and several people had signed up. For ease they had asked students to complete both experiments.

So on a bleak day in Spring, Lottie and Vere hung around the Psychology Department waiting for their first victims. Since the night of the A and R man's visit Vere had been very subdued and Lottie did not dare mention the band. He had not, of course said any more about their relationship, friendship whatever it was. Today he seemed quite cheerful and gave her a reassuring smile.

A second year student called Gary was first for Lottie and, Clarissa, Lottie's friend from home, began for Vere. Lottie and Vere were working in adjacent rooms and they planned to put each student through the tests and then swap them over.

Lottie noticed Clarissa flicking her hair and ogling Vere as they greeted her before coming to complete the typing test. She was, Lottie guessed, working up to asking about him.

'Can you just type this passage?' asked Lottie.

As she typed Clarissa gave her a sidelong look. 'You and Vere an item?'

Lottie was aware that the bloody girl was supposed to be concentrating on the ruddy test not trying to sort out her love life.

Lottie nodded at the task. 'Tell you later, OK.'

Clarissa bashed out the passage and then asked again, 'Well are you?'

'Best mates ,' said Lottie, 'that's all.' She wanted to say something different but didn't dare. Supposing Vere came in and heard them talking about him? But on the other hand she could not stand the idea of her old friend from back home pursuing him. 'He's got a girlfriend, Shaz.'

Lottie didn't know if this was true anymore, but didn't care. Actually she hadn't seen Shaz for a couple of months.The thought of Clarissa with her strawberry blonde, long hair and panda eyes homing in on Vere made her furious somehow. Eventually Clarissa scuttled off, looking forlorn. Gary, hung about outside in the corridor.

Alex Lemonde, from the house, came next. 'God you two, you're so studious, doing all this. I plan to make up the whole of my project over the Easter holidays. I don't think old Prof Gordon will notice you know.'

'What's it on?' asked Vere.

'Dunno, something related to footy I thought, might just ask my mates in the team if they wear their lucky underpants for big games, something like that.'

Vere laughed. Alex performed both sets of tests and then suggested that they all go for a coffee in the arts reading room. Gary walked along with him, having hung about for a while. He eyed Alex and Vere before muttering some excuse and slipping away. Vere watched him go and told her,

'That Gary bloke fancies you Lots, that's the only reason he came to do your project.'

Lottie blushed. 'Yeah well same goes for Clarissa. She's got the hots for you...'

'Thought you were going out with that scouser Shaz,' said Alex, overhearing and looking puzzled. Lottie watched Vere's reaction. He shrugged.

'Well it wasn't going anywhere.'

'Have you still got her number? I might give her a ring.'

Vere grinned. 'Dunno mate, I'll see.'

By the end of the day Vere and Lottie had worked with twelve people each. They then popped into see their tutor, Dr Laso.

'Well that's great, I think twelve is a good sample size. Go away and work on your write ups and I'll expect completed drafts after Easter OK?'

'How many words is it again?' asked Lottie, suddenly anxious.

'Around five thousand. Don't forget references as well. In fact you could work together on this and share the journals.'

Dr Laso looked from one to the other. 'Just a thought,' he said, ' it might help ignite the creative juices.'

Vere grinned and Lottie felt her heart pound. Hmm maybe.

As they left they saw Professor Gordon going into see Dr Laso.

'Richard I need your finals paper after Easter. I'm asking everyone OK.'

They left together. Vere glanced at Lottie. 'God I'm scared. Suddenly it's all these write ups, the project, the dissertation, finals. Soon it'll all be over and I don't think I'm going to do well. 2/2 or 3rd even. Then I have no idea what else to do.'

Lottie smiled. 'Same here,' she said.' Listen we could work together like Dr Laso said. Why don't we meet up during Easter and help one another out.'

Vere grinned. 'Sure. As long as Dan doesn't mind...'

Lottie sighed. 'No, he won't. Anyway he's going on that trip to Lundy Island with Dr Nicholls, he's doing his project on something from that animal behaviour course. There's a spare place but I didn't want to go. Mel's going instead.'

'Well anything so that you don't feel lonely throughout the whole of the Easter break.'

Lottie grinned, her dry mouth was replaced by a warm glow of well being. She would be seeing Vere on his own. It would be something to look forward to instead of all this work which she suddenly realised was coming way too fast. It's great having Vere as a mate she told herself. But do I want him to be more than that? She did not dare answer that question because she didn't want to contemplate the answer too closely. That way madness lay.

To find out what happens next download Friends Reunited also by Scarlett Brodie available on amazon.
