Victor pulled the car to a halt near the tall wrought-iron fence. He could have sworn it used to be white picket. Had he misremembered? No—second house before the bend. He knew it well; it haunted him. From the driver’s seat, he couldn’t even see the roof.
He kept glancing in the mirrors, watching for passersby. A lone man in a car on an empty street would draw attention. *What am I doing here? Why?* The longer he stared at the fence, the weaker his resolve grew.
Then a girl stepped out of the gate, a golden retriever at her side. For a moment, Victor thought it was Alice. The same chestnut curls, the same frame. He couldn’t see her face clearly. *Impossible. Fifteen years have passed. She’d be nearly forty, and this girl can’t be older than twenty. Modern miracles, I suppose. Or her daughter? But she never had one. Should I follow? What would I even say? A middle-aged man chasing a young woman—how pathetic.*
He slumped back, turned on the radio, and waited. Twenty minutes later, the girl reappeared around the corner. As she drew closer, Victor realized she looked nothing like Alice. When she was a hundred yards away, he stepped out of the car.
The retriever strained at its leash, pulling toward him.
“Easy, Max,” the girl said, tugging him back.
“Sorry. Did Alice used to live here? Or have I got the wrong house?” Victor suddenly remembered he didn’t even know Alice’s last name.
“She’s my mum. Who are you?” The girl studied him with sharp eyes.
“Just back in town. Didn’t know she had a daughter.” Victor eyed the dog and stayed where he was.
“How long’s it been?” she asked, squinting.
“Fifteen years.”
“Well, you can’t be my dad,” she laughed, bright and mocking. “I’m adopted. They’ll be back soon—want to wait?” She gestured to a side door in the fence.
Victor shrugged.
“Aren’t you scared? Letting a stranger in?”
She sobered. “Why? You think I’m alone? Max wouldn’t let anything happen. And there’s CCTV. So, coming?” She held the door open.
Victor locked the car and followed. The garden was tidy but not manicured—overgrown shrubs, grass needing a trim. A slate path led to the two-story house.
It had changed, but it was the same place. Fifteen years ago, it had seemed enormous. Back then, he’d been crammed into a dorm room or sharing a tiny flat with his parents and little sister. Now he lived in a house just as big.
The interior was different—expensive furniture, a sleek TV, thick carpet muffling footsteps.
“Bar’s over there if you want a drink,” the girl said, heading upstairs.
“I’m driving. What’s your name?”
“Emily. Be right back.”
Alone, Victor scanned the room—no photos on the shelves. He sank into an armchair by the fireplace (new, too) and let his thoughts drift…
***
“Come on, mate, just for a bit. Jenna’s bringing a friend. What am I supposed to do, third-wheel all night?” Rob pleaded.
“Exam tomorrow,” Victor muttered into his textbook.
“Few hours won’t kill you. You won’t learn it all anyway. Better to go in fresh. Seriously, Vic, come on. Jenna’s mates are always fit.”
“Fine. Not staying long.” Victor shut the book.
“That’s the spirit! You’ll thank me. Hands off Jenna, though—she’s mine.”
They arrived late at the cul-de-sac where Jenna lived. Music blared inside; a wine bottle, glasses, and snacks were already laid out on the coffee table.
“Took you long enough,” Jenna huffed. She was striking—jet-black hair, sharp features.
“Had to drag Vic. Exam tomorrow,” Rob said, nuzzling her neck.
“Well, let’s not waste time.” Jenna grinned, pulling him toward the table. “Pour us something. Alice, where are you?”
A girl in a floral dress descended the stairs. Plain next to Jenna, but Victor couldn’t look away.
“This is Alice,” Jenna said, cranking up the music.
They drank. Rob and Jenna danced.
“Shall we?” Victor popped a grape into his mouth.
“Sure. And drop the ‘miss,’ yeah?”
Alice moved gracefully. No makeup, just deep blue eyes that shifted from ink-black to cornflower in the light. Victor kept his gaze above her lips.
The song changed, but they swayed on.
“Where’d Jenna and Rob go?” Alice stopped, scanning the room.
They’d vanished. The air between Victor and Alice thickened.
“I should go. You’ve got your exam,” she said.
“I’ll walk you.”
They barely spoke on the way. At her gate, Victor caught her wrist.
“See you tomorrow?”
“Maybe.” She slipped free and dashed inside.
He walked back to the dorm, replaying her face, her laugh. Rob stumbled in at dawn.
Rob scraped a pass; Victor aced it. *Lucky draw. Alice is my good luck charm.*
“So? Score?” Rob grinned on their way back. “Not bad, that one. Could’ve had a go myself—”
Victor spun him around. “What did you say?”
Rob paled. Wiry and shorter, he shrank under Victor’s glare.
“Joke! Jenna’s more than enough.”
“Better be.”
They walked in silence. Rob crashed onto his bed. Victor drove to Alice’s. The gate was unlocked again.
She answered in a short robe, hair tousled. His breath hitched.
“Come in. Pass your exam?”
“Yeah.” His voice cracked.
The house was modest compared to Jenna’s.
“Parents home?”
“No. Back tonight.” She shrugged. “Hungry?”
“No.” (He hadn’t eaten since yesterday.)
“Tea?”
Her smirk unsettled him.
“Fancy a film?” he blurted.
Alice stepped close, draped her arms over his shoulders, and kissed him.
He left fifteen minutes before her parents returned, floating home. They met a few more times before term ended.
Then his mum called—his dad was in hospital. Victor rushed to Alice’s to say goodbye, but she wasn’t there. No answer on her phone. He left a note and left.
Weeks passed. No reply. He called Rob, but he’d gone home too.
“Ask Jenna. They’re mates,” Victor pressed.
Rob said they’d broken up. Wouldn’t call her.
His dad worsened. Paralysed. Victor couldn’t leave his mum and little sister. He transferred to a local uni, got a job.
When he returned for his things, no one was there—Rob, Jenna, Alice. Her phone died for good. That mocking look of hers sealed it. A fling. He let her go.
He married Sarah—kind, practical. A son, then a daughter. No time for ghosts. Rob faded too. Never really friends, just dorm mates.
His dad died. Victor’s business thrived. Fancy car, big house. Mum helped with the kids. His sister kept the flat.
Partners in his old uni town summoned him. He went, itching to see Alice.
***
Now he sat staring at the cold fireplace. *What am I doing? Alice is married. Maybe she was already taken back then—that’s why she never called. Just leave.*
Headlights flashed through the window. A Range Rover purred up the drive. Trapped, Victor braced himself.
“Mum, Dad—we’ve got a guest!” Emily called.
She flitted past him to her parents. Her father—*Rob*—pecked her temple, eyes locked on Victor. Alice stood calm, faintly surprised.
“Look who’s here,” Rob said, extending a hand.
He’d filled out—paunch, receding hairline. The weedy boy was gone.
Before Victor could shake, Rob pulled him into a back-slapping hug.
“Alice, remember Vic?”
She offered her hand. Their fingers touched—electric. Her lashes flickered. She felt it too.
“I’ll set the table,” she murmured, stepping away.
“Don’t. I’m not staying.”
Rob fidgeted. “Why didn’t you call?”
“Why? You left her. I stepped up.”
Victor didn’t explain.
“Jenna?”
Rob snorted. “Ancient history. Married, moved to Israel. But Alice—always liked her.”
“Emily?”
“Adopted. Mum’s distant cousin. Twenty years, eh?”
“Fifteen.”
“Nice wheels. Done well?”
Victor shrugged. The conversation stalled.
“Drink?”
*Why did I come? Did I think she’d wait? But Rob? Never saw that coming.*
“Got to go. Good seeing you.”
“Drop by.Victor drove away with the radio humming softly, the ghost of Alice’s blue eyes fading in the rearview mirror like the last light of a dream.
