"Lucyyyy! Wait until I tell you what's happened," called Fiona as Lucy skipped down the steps to meet her friend halfway. Fiona's face was glowing pink in contrast to her emerald-green trench coat.

"Fi! Are you OK?"

"Oh, I'm fine. No, it's Fergus the toxicologist!"

"God, what's happened to him?"

"He's only gone and proposed to me, the mad bugger! Can you believe it?"

Fiona threw her arms around her and hugged her in a most un-Fiona-like way. "Poor Fergus, he must be heartbroken," said Lucy sympathetically.

"Heartbroken? What d'you mean? Of course he's not bloody heartbroken, because I've accepted!"

Lucy's jaw dropped toward the pavement.

"Don't give me that look. I said I'm getting married." Fiona beamed.

"But he's brilliant, Fi! You said yourself he was the cleverest man you'd ever met. Even cleverer than you. And you told me to have you committed if you even so much as contemplated getting married again."

"Yes, yes, I know I did, but the thing is, Fergus makes Simon Cowell look like a pauper. He's got his own moated manor in the Cotswolds and some kind of castle in Bute. Besides"-she lowered her voice-"you just wouldn't believe what he can do with his tongue."

Abandoning Psycho, they jumped straight into a cab and headed for the nearest champagne bar where Fiona ordered Krug. Then they went on to the club and were joined by Charlie and Fergus who was drop-dead gorgeous in an aristocratic, slightly ravaged kind of way. Lucy wondered how he'd ever cope with Fiona, but Fi was deliriously happy and that was all that mattered. It was Fiona's moment so Lucy danced and laughed and tried to think of all the good things she had in her life such as her business, her new relationship with her father, and, as Mrs. Sennen no doubt would have reminded her, she had her health.

Yet later, as she lay in bed at the flat in the small hours, all she could think of was the one thing she didn't have and how much she longed to be wrapped in his arms right now. She hugged her pillow, longing to be pressed against his warm, big body, safe in the knowledge that he'd be there the next morning and every morning.

She awoke shivering with the kind of hangover that not even intravenous Lucozade could shift. She couldn't hear the comforting sound of Charlie moving about in the flat downstairs. In fact, every little noise she made, from her bare footsteps on the floor to the kettle boiling, seemed to echo off the walls, as if the flat had been emptied by phantom removal men during the night.

Unable to bear the emptiness, she decided to go for a walk, and even outside, everywhere seemed muffled and blank under the cloudy London sky. Wrapped in her raincoat, a scarf wound around her face, she was on her way into the gates of the nearby park when there was a squeal of brakes.

"Ow!"

The next thing she knew, she was lying on the pavement. Someone who appeared to be a sailor was peering down at her.

"Charlie?" she said, as her eyes focused and her head throbbed.

Resting his bike against the park railings, he held out a hand. "So sorry, darling. No bones broken, I trust?"

"No, I'm fine," said Lucy, hearing him grunt as he hauled her up. "Have you thought of getting your eyes tested?"

"Often. However, I've never met an optician I liked the look of yet. Besides, I was in a tearing hurry to try and catch you. Lucy, there's a Greek god on the steps to the flat and he's looking for you."

Her heart, already jogging after the collision, went into sprint mode. "A Greek god?"

"You know the kind of thing-tall, blond, chiseled, would look good naked on the walls of the Parthenon. I passed him on my way out."

She could hardly squeeze out the words. Someone seemed to have Botoxed her vocal chords. "D-did he-did he say anything?"

Charlie looked puzzled. "That was the weirdest thing. He asked if you lived there and if I was Charlie. I have absolutely no idea how he knew who I was."

"I do," said Lucy, taking in the vintage sailor boy outfit her neighbor was wearing and guessing that he must be on his way to a South Pacific rehearsal. "Charlie, I think I know who it is. I think it's Josh. You see, I told him about your musical career."

Charlie's face filled with pride. "In that case, if I were you, apart from putting on a lot of makeup, I'd whizz over to the flat now before Zeus decides to fly back to Mount Olympus."

In Lucy's wildest dreams, when she'd first returned to London, she'd imagined Josh walking into her workplace, in Officer and A Gentleman style. In her fantasies, her document wallet would fall to the floor as he swept her into his arms and carried her down the corridor past a whooping Lorna who'd be shouting, "Way to go, Lucy!" All the patients from the podiatrist's on the ground floor would be clapping and cheering as Josh whisked her off toward...

She'd never been sure where because she hadn't really known what she wanted to happen next.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, what are you waiting for?" said Charlie as she hesitated.

Lucy was wondering the exact same thing until she realized that the feeling that was keeping her frozen to the pavement was fear. Fear mixed with pride. Josh hadn't been prepared to give her a second chance. She knew that she'd deceived and hurt him but she'd always nurtured that tiny flame of hope that he might have softened.

"I don't know," she told Charlie. "It's just that I've worked so hard to get over him. I thought I had got over him, but if he's just turned up to say hello or ask me the way to Buckingham Palace or something, I don't know what I'll do."

Charlie gave an exasperated sigh. "Lucy, I give up on you. Whatever he has to say, it can't be worse than the agony you've been going through, my lovely. Now, be brave. Go and talk to him."

Everyone was always giving advice about thinking positive, thought Lucy as she tried very hard not to run back to the flat. Thinking positive might work if you were pushing for a new contract or you'd been shipwrecked on a desert island, but in the case of love, thinking the worst meant you could never be disappointed. Just because Josh was here, in London, waiting for her, she told herself, didn't mean he'd come back to her or for her. There could be any number of reasons he was here: he had business in London, he was looking for Luke. Yes, that was it. Of course. He'd made one last attempt to find his brother and had decided to see her at the same time. Now that was sorted, she could be calm.

At the corner of her road, she stopped and reminded herself of what he'd said to her that horrible night in Tresco even though the words still cut like a knife. There would never be a "soon" for them, he'd said, and the words had echoed in her mind like a great oak door clanging shut on a prisoner in a dungeon.

Soon, the flat came into sight and Lucy's emotions went on a roller-coaster ride. There was no Josh outside. He must have already gone. She'd reached the flat before the door of a black cab opened and a man got out, pulling a wallet out of his back pocket.

It was Josh. There was no mistake but it was a Josh she had never seen before. He had thick toffee-blond hair curling against his neck and he was wearing a trench coat over a thick sweater.

And only now, in this instant, as her stomach did an impression of fairground waltzers, did she realize how much she still loved him.

He shoved some notes through the window of the cab before he turned round and saw her. When she saw his expression she knew straightaway he wasn't going to do a Richard Gere and sweep her out of the paper bag factory.

"Have you been looking for Luke?" she said, before he could hurt her by saying it himself.

"Yes, I have."

"And?"

"I found him."

"Oh."

"Or rather he found me, Lucy."

Just then, the breeze whisked up a leaf and whirled it past her face and into her hair. She suddenly realized she was too afraid to brush it away, too afraid even to move. Because, she thought, if she actually moved, she might break into little pieces, she felt so brittle and fragile. Maybe Josh would melt away too if she brushed away the leaf, because maybe he wasn't here at all and she had imagined him because she wanted him so very much. Only the leaf was the charm that kept him here.

"He found me because his girlfriend saw an article in the newspapers about us. He's been trying to pluck up the courage to get in contact with me ever since and last week I got a phone call. Yesterday I went to visit him and I've been staying with him."

"Where is he?" asked Lucy, shivering beneath her raincoat.

"In Pirbright at the moment. He joined the Army a few years back. He's served in Iraq and Afghanistan but now he's back at the base for a while with Suzy, his partner. They've got a baby on the way."

"So you're going to be an uncle?"

"Yes."

"That's great, Josh. I'm really happy for you," said Lucy, meaning every word, yet weirdly feeling like crying. "How did you know where I live?" she asked.

"I called Fiona first thing this morning. She didn't seem too pleased."

"That's because she just got engaged. You probably got her out of bed."

His wry smile, softening his expression, threatened to have her on her knees. "I never was one for the social niceties. You know that." He hesitated before he went on. "So, Lucy, are you going to let me in or are you going to leave me out here, breathing in all this pollution?"

Her heart beat a slow, painful rhythm against her chest. "I'm not sure, Josh. Maybe I'll leave you out here. It depends just how much you want to come inside."

He took a step toward her and reached out his hand. She barely felt his hand touch her hair, but when he uncurled his fingers, the leaf was sitting in his palm. His fingers were blistered and calloused from windsurfing and work, yet Lucy wanted to lift them to her mouth and kiss them.

He let the leaf fall to the pavement and gently brushed her cheek with his hand. "Lucy, sweetheart, I want to come inside with you so much it hurts. Please let me in. Don't leave me out here."

The stairs to the flat felt like Everest as she led the way up, hardly able to bear the weight of hope and expectation filling her heart. All the time she'd spent trying to force him from her mind, she'd known that she would survive as long as she never had to see him again. Now that he'd burst back into her life, real flesh and blood, she didn't know how she could cope with another parting.

Inside the flat, the curtains were still drawn so she tugged them open and let in the weak spring sunlight. Even so, Josh seemed too massive for her little sitting room. "Can I get you a coffee?" she said, bizarrely hoping he wouldn't notice her knickers drying on the radiator.

He smiled gently. "Not right now, thanks."

"Will you sit down, then?"

He chose the sofa, carefully pushing a couple of DVDs and an empty packet of Doritos to the end of the seat to make room.

"Are you sure you don't want a cookie or some breakfast?"

"Lucy, I mean this really nicely, but can you please shut up for a minute? Don't you know I've been dying without you?"

"You don't mean actually dying, Josh. You mean hurting. That's how you know you're alive."

"Hurting, then. Suffering."

"I've not been very happy either."

"How 'not very happy'?" he asked, shifting forward in the chair, daring her to put into words what she'd been going through. But how could she tell him about the lonely nights, the longing for his body and his quiet, rock-steady presence? The misery she felt when she'd locked up the cottage on that last morning and seen Tresco Farm growing farther and farther away in the rearview mirror?

"Like the sun got switched off," she said at last.

He was off that sofa and holding her in his arms in an instant. He was big and warm and golden and she couldn't believe that he was here in her life. Then he brought his mouth to hers and she tasted him again, the heat and sweetness, the Josh-ness of him. His sweater was rough against her wet cheek, his fingers tangled painfully in her morning hair as he kissed her as if he would never let her go.

She didn't know how long they kissed and held each other but eventually she broke the silence. "I've missed you so much. I'm so sorry for lying to you, letting you down. I've regretted it every day."

Josh groaned. "No, I've regretted it every day. I should have trusted you but, Lucy, I don't find it easy to trust people. If it's any consolation, life has been hell. Pure hell. I tried to convince myself I could live without you but I just couldn't do it. And then, when I heard from Luke and realized just how much of his life I've missed, I knew I couldn't waste another moment without seeing you. I've only been hurting myself and God knows what I've done to you." He smiled gently. "And I think Tally hates me too."

"Because Hengist left?"

"Because I drove you away and I wouldn't give you a second chance. Because I'm a stupid, stubborn bloke who didn't know what he had. But I do know now and I love you, Lucy."

She could no longer stand the pressure of his arms about her waist, the tantalizing pressure of his fingers on the bare skin where her T-shirt met her very glamorous jogging bottoms. Too late to worry that she had her oldest knickers on and a bra that she should have thrown out ages ago. Josh only seemed to care about ripping her clothes off as fast as possible. It was cold in the flat and she was shivering by the time he'd unhooked her bra and taken off her knickers. In no time, he was naked too and every bit as hard and magnificent as she'd remembered and dreamed about. She realized it wasn't that cold in the flat.

"Kitchen?" he panted, holding out his hand to her.

Lucy gulped. "Love to, but I don't think my little table will survive."

He looked downcast until she ordered, quite sternly: "Bed. Now."

As he let her lead him into the bedroom, she marveled at her new assertiveness and wondered if that was what being your own boss did for you.

Much later, glowing and warm, they were walking through pools of spring sunshine in the park. With Josh's arm around her back, Lucy felt as if she owned the whole world. When they reached the cafe by the lake, he pulled her into his arms.

"Lucy, I want you to come back with me to Tresco. I sold one of the cottages and bought out Sara's share in the club."

"She let you do that?"

"She told me it was a poxy dump and I was welcome to it and we both know I'm much better at sailing than property owning."

"Perhaps," she replied carefully.

"But the point is, Lucy, I don't want to be Josh the island anymore. I want to share my life with you."

Lucy buried her face in his sweater. For so long, she'd longed for those words but now they presented a dilemma. Gradually, she'd moved forward, made plans, set them in motion, entangled herself with other responsibilities. Her business had kept her sane while she'd been trying to forget Josh. She couldn't just abandon it and yet she ached to be with him.

"It's not that I don't want to come with you. I do, so very much, but things have changed, Josh. I have a business, staff-"

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Your own empire?"

"A teeny tiny one, more like a mini-kingdom. There's Lorna, who's my assistant, and my clients. I can't just abandon them. It's not that simple."

"Life never is," said Josh. "And I don't want you to give up everything for me, but I have to try and be with you somehow." He pulled her to him and kissed her head. "And I'm not going to stop trying until we're together."

Chapter 35.

Three Months Later.

Lucy spotted Josh standing in the small arrivals area at Newquay Airport before he saw her. He was jingling his keys in his fingers and anxiously scanning the passengers. As he finally caught sight of her, she lifted a hand and he smiled back. She quickened her step, her body tingling in anticipation of the tightening of his arms around her, the gentle sweep of his lips against hers.

"Hello," she said as she reached him at last, her breath coming in little gasps that had nothing to do with hurrying toward him and everything to do with what she had to say.

"How was your flight?" he asked, taking her bag from her without asking as he always insisted on doing. He kissed her on the lips briefly but there was no "sweetheart," and certainly no bear hug.

"Oh, fine. We had a bit of a bumpy landing but otherwise it was good. You can see all the boats, you know, as you come in to land," she said as they walked outside, blinking against the redness of a sinking sun.