Nell.

She was older, of course, and thinner, he thought, and she had lost the golden bloom that had so entranced him as an adolescent. There was a wariness and a weariness in the lines around her eyes that hadn’t been there before, but it was unmistakably Nell. She had the same wide grey gaze, the same sweetness in her expression, the same air of deceptive fragility.

‘Nell…’ He ran his hands through his hair a little helplessly. ‘This is bizarre… I always hoped I’d bump into you again one day, but not literally! Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?’

Nell looked down at herself as if to check, becoming aware for the first time of a dull throb in her ankle. She must have wrenched her bad foot as she’d tried to right herself.

‘I think my arm just caught your wing mirror,’ she said, feeling more shaken by coming face to face with P.J. than by the accident.

It was disconcerting to find him so familiar, and yet so changed. She had been right in thinking that he would grow into his looks, but she hadn’t expected him to turn into quite such an attractive man. Where the young P.J.’s face had been thin and beaky, now it was strong and angular. His neck and shoulders had broadened as he had thickened out with age, and he had acquired a solidity and a presence that was almost unnerving, but the crooked smile and the blue dancing eyes were just the same.

‘Let me see.’ Unaware of the train of her thoughts, P.J. took her arm and felt it gently. ‘It doesn’t seem to be broken, anyway.’

Nell was unaccountably flustered by the feel of his hands, and miserably conscious of her bare face, and scruffy clothes. If fate had wanted her to meet P.J. again against all the odds, it could at least have waited until she was looking more presentable.

‘Honestly, it’s fine,’ she said almost sharply, and pulled out of his grasp, only to wince as she stepped back onto her twisted ankle.

‘You’re limping,’ said Clara protectively. ‘It’s your bad foot, too.’ She cast P.J. an accusing glance. ‘She broke it last year.’

‘And now I’ve made it worse. I’m sorry…’ P.J. looked enquiring, and Nell had no choice but to make the introduction.

‘This is my daughter, Clara,’ she said. ‘Clara, this is-’

‘P.J.,’ supplied Clara before she could finish. She looked assessingly at P.J. as she held out her hand, and quite suddenly she smiled, as if he had passed some rigorous test. ‘Hello,’ she said.

‘Hello, Clara.’ P.J. shook her hand gravely, but his eyes twinkled. ‘It’s nice to meet you, but I’m really sorry I had to nearly knock your mother over to do it. We’re old friends.’

‘I know,’ said Clara. ‘Mum was just telling me about you. She said you were nice.’

P.J. glanced at Nell, his eyes warm with amusement, and to her chagrin Nell could feel herself blushing.

‘We were just talking old boyfriends and how I met you at school,’ she said as casually as she could. She didn’t want him thinking that she spent her days boring on about him. ‘Clara doesn’t believe that I was ever that young, of course!’

‘Oh, she was,’ P.J. told Clara with a grin. ‘She was the prettiest girl in the school. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was, I can tell you!’

Clara beamed approvingly at him, and Nell’s heart sank. Her daughter was an incurable matchmaker, especially since she had taken such a successful hand in her aunt Thea’s affairs the previous year, and now she had evidently decided that it was time that her mother had some romance in her life, too. It was clear that she was eyeing P.J. up as prospective candidate.

Heaven only knew what she would say if she discovered that P.J. was not only eligible but rich enough to solve all her mother’s financial problems without even noticing a blip in his bank account! She had to nip her plans in the bud right now, Nell decided.

‘Clara, we’re going to be really late,’ she said quickly. ‘We’d better get on.’ She turned to P.J. ‘Nice to see you again, P.J.,’ she said with a bright smile and what she hoped was an air of finality.

If P.J. heard it, he ignored it. ‘Let me give you a lift,’ he said.

‘There’s no need,’ Nell said firmly, and pointed to the school gates. ‘We’re just going along here.’

‘What about your ankle, Mum?’ Clara put in. ‘You won’t be able to walk on it. How are you going to get to work?’

‘I’ll be fine when I get to the tube.’

‘Where do you work?’ asked P.J.

‘In the city,’ said Clara, disregarding Nell’s attempt at a quelling look. ‘It takes ages to get there,’ she added, blatantly fishing.

P.J. didn’t disappoint her. ‘Oh, well, that’s easy, then,’ he said. ‘I’m going that way myself. I just have to drop off the kids first.’

Kids?

Jolted out of her annoyance at the way the two of them were calmly organising her life for her, Nell turned belatedly to where a car with sleek, expensive lines was pulled up, half on, half off the pavement. Three small, curious faces were staring through the back window at them.

Three? And this was the man who hadn’t been ready for children at all! An extraordinary mixture of emotions-none of them explicable-churned around in Nell’s chest. Surprise, regret, disappointment, and worst of all something that felt suspiciously like jealousy.

She didn’t know why she was so taken aback. Why shouldn’t P.J. have married and had a family just as she had? What had she expected? That he would have spent the last sixteen years pining for her?

Janey had told Thea that he was single at the moment, and somehow it had never occurred to Nell that he might be divorced, like her. She had always thought of P.J. as someone who would make a commitment and stick by it, no matter what.

Of course, Thea might have misunderstood. Why not accept the more obvious explanation? Nell asked herself. That P.J. was happily married with three gorgeous children, and a phenomenally successful career, while she was single, with one gorgeous child, and her career was best not thought about too much.

‘It won’t take long,’ P.J. was saying. ‘Their school is just round the corner.’

Nell knew the one. It was an extortionately expensive private school, the kind of place she would never have been able to send Clara, even if she and Simon were still married. Not that expense would be an issue for P.J. now. You only had to look at that car and the immaculately tailored suit he was wearing to know that he could afford whatever he wanted.

He had a very different life from her now, that was for sure. Not that it made any difference to her, Nell reminded herself. There was no reason for her to feel prickly and defensive the way she suddenly was feeling for some reason.

‘Really, there’s no need for you to give me a lift,’ she said shortly, and saw Clara looking puzzled at her tone. ‘I’m quite capable of walking, and anyway, the tube is much quicker than sitting in traffic. Thank you for the offer, but we really should go. Come along, Clara.’

Sadly, her attempt at a dignified exit was ruined by the way her ankle buckled the moment she tried to take a step.

‘Mum, you can’t walk,’ cried Clara, obviously exasperated by her mother’s stubbornness. ‘Don’t be silly!’

‘Clara’s right,’ said P.J., and gave Nell a smile that made her heart do an alarming somersault. ‘You always used to be so sensible, Nell. Don’t tell me you’ve changed that much!’

‘You have,’ she said without thinking.

‘I’m sixteen years older and wearing a suit,’ he acknowledged, ‘but otherwise I’m just the same. I’m not suggesting you get into a car with a stranger. We used to be friends.’

And lovers…

The unspoken words hung in the air, and for Nell it was like a series of pictures flicking through her mind. P.J. reaching confidently for her hand, smiling as he drew her towards him. Lying by the river in the long, sweet grass, drowsy with sunshine, feeling the tickle of a feather on her nose, opening her eyes to see him leaning above her with that wicked grin. P.J. turning up at her door, half hidden behind a huge bunch of roses, when she passed her finals; holding her as she wept and wept for a lost dog.

‘Come on, Nell,’ he said with a smile that told her he remembered just as much as she did. ‘Get in the car and stop being silly like Clara says!’

Clara giggled and hugged Nell, evidently taking it for granted that the matter was now decided. ‘Bye, Mum. See you tonight.’ She turned brightly to her new ally. ‘Bye, P.J. Don’t let Mum do anything she shouldn’t!’

‘Goodbye, Clara.’ He grinned. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll look after her.’

Nell shook her head ruefully as her daughter ran off, school bag bumping against her back. ‘That girl…!’

‘She’s great,’ said P.J. ‘I like children with personality.’

‘She’s got that all right,’ said Nell with feeling.

‘Well, she’s issued her instructions, and I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes if she finds out that you haven’t done as you were told!’ He held open the passenger door. ‘Come on, in you get.’

It would be ridiculous to refuse now, and she could hardly run off with her ankle like this. With the distinct feeling that she was being managed, and not at all sure that she liked it, Nell limped over to the car and got in. Turning with a little difficulty, she smiled a hello at the children in the back.

‘Jake, Emily and Flora,’ said P.J., pointing affectionately at each one. ‘Kids, this lady I almost knocked over is an old friend of mine, Nell Martindale.’

It was odd hearing her maiden name again. ‘Nell Shea now,’ she reminded him.

‘Of course. Sorry.’

P.J. switched on the engine abruptly. He had forgotten Simon Shea there for a moment. Of course Nell had taken his name. She had been besotted with him. Stupid to think she would have changed it back.

‘We’re divorced, but I kept Shea so that I’d have the same surname as Clara,’ she said, almost as if she could read his mind.