Page 48 of Midnight in Paris

She nodded. She knew exactly what he meant.

He brought his hand out in front of her so she could see he was holding a necklace – a small silver locket which caught the light. ‘For you, Mrs Gardner,’ he said.

‘Oh, Tom, it’s lovely.’ She let him fasten it around her neck and felt her hand travel to it as they stared into the endless night sky, on their bridge, intheirplace, at the start of a whole life full of adventures.

21

TWO WEEKS AGO

The urge to get home was almost overwhelming. As she watched the locket disappear into the water, she felt a terrible lurch of loneliness. What was she doing here? Why had she decided it was best to come alone? And Tom. Had he really been here? Had it all been in her head?

Before Tom died, she hadn’t thought much about whether or not there was an afterlife. There was a vague sense of ‘heaven’ or ‘somewhere better’ that she’d imagined when her grandparents had died, but all of that stuff hadn’t seemed to apply to her, in her twenties and only just at the start of things.

Then after Tom had died, she’d felt for a long time as if he was still with her. She’d spoken to him, believed she’d seen signs – a white feather outside her front door, a book falling open on a certain page. All the things she’d seen other people do when they were in grief had become her things.

That wishful thinking had disappeared over the dark months that followed and it was only recently she’d begun to see him again. Something both welcome and terrifying at once. Stress, her GP had said. But how could it be? She’d convinced herself it was her fault – that she hadn’t scattered his ashes as she’dpromised. And could only think of one way to end it, to say goodbye. Here, in the place that had come to mean everything.

Feeling hot, she raced along the streets, upsetting one or two meandering tourists as she pushed past them in her haste. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her phone and called Will. But her call went to voicemail.

‘Stupid, stupid,’ she muttered to herself as she turned the final corner and saw the cheap façade of her hotel. She shouldn’t have come alone, should have accepted Sam’s offer, or Libby’s. She’d been afraid of their judgement, and had wanted – she realised now – to indulge her fantasy of Tom appearing by her side. Had she been mad? Had he been there? She shook her head; now wasn’t the time.

She scrolled her numbers and walked into the foyer of the Cler, phone clamped to her ear. Thankfully, Libby answered after two rings.

‘Hi, sweetheart.’

‘Libby,’ Sophie coughed out the name in a dry sob.

‘OK, OK, calm down, Soph,’ her friend’s voice switched to serious. ‘I take it you’ve… done the deed?’

She nodded, but of course Libby couldn’t see her. ‘Mm,’ she managed.

‘OK. Well, well done. It was never going to be easy, was it, that final goodbye.’

‘I know.’ Her voice was almost a whisper. She pressed the button to call the lift, squeezing her eyes with her thumb and middle finger, making coloured shapes dance in her vision.

‘So. You’ve just got to concentrate on coming home now. Are you all packed for tomorrow?’

‘I think I’m going to come tonight. I can’t stay. I know it’s late but…’

Libby, in the practical way that she always did, took this news on board. ‘Right, no problem,’ she said. ‘Let me sort the ticket. You just get yourself ready.’

‘Thank you.’

‘And…’ Libby paused, as if thinking about whether to go on. ‘Tom isn’tthereany more?’

‘He’s gone,’ she said, her words coming out surprisingly loudly as she exited the lift. A woman putting her card into the reader on her room’s door looked up at her briefly, then vanished into her room.

‘Well, good. That’s good.’ Libby said, soothing.

Sophie let herself into her room, phone still at her ear. The room looked empty, stark, devoid of any personality. Her bag, her trainers, the keys on the bedside table were the only evidence it had ever been inhabited. She sat on the bed and slipped off her sandals, feeling a sense of relief as her hot feet touched the soft carpet. ‘Is it?’ she said.

‘Now, come on.’

‘I know.’ Sophie wiped a tear from her eye. ‘I’m just all over the place. I thought I’d be fine. I should be fine by now, right?’

Libby was silent for a moment. ‘I don’t think there’s anyshouldabout these things,’ she said. ‘I still miss my nan. And I know it’s not the same, because you kind of grow up knowing that you’re going to lose your grandparents, don’t you? But it was still a shock somehow. And some days I don’t think about her at all. Other days…’

‘You can’t stop?’ suggested Sophie.