Edward pulled his car to a stop near the tall wrought-iron fence. He remembered it being a white picket fence before. For a moment, he wondered if he’d gotten the wrong house. No—this was the second one before the bend in the road. He knew it well because he’d thought about it often. From the car window, he couldn’t even see the roof.
He kept glancing in the mirrors, checking if anyone was coming. A parked car with a man inside would draw attention on this quiet street. *What am I doing here? Why did I come?* The longer he sat staring at the fence, the less certain he felt about knocking.
Then a young woman stepped out through the gates, a golden retriever trotting beside her. For a second, Edward thought it was Alice—same chestnut curls, same slender frame. He didn’t get a good look at her face. *Impossible. It’s been fifteen years. Alice would be nearly forty now, and this girl can’t be a day over twenty. Plastic surgery works miracles, I suppose. Or is this her daughter? But she didn’t have one back then. Should I follow her? And say what? A middle-aged man chasing after a girl half his age—how would that look?*
He leaned back in his seat, turned on the radio, and waited. Twenty minutes later, the girl reappeared around the bend with her dog. As she drew closer, Edward saw she looked nothing like Alice. When she was a hundred yards away, he stepped out of the car.
The retriever strained at its lead, pulling toward him.
“Easy, Max,” the girl said, tugging the dog back.
“Sorry. I was looking for Alice. Unless I’ve got the wrong house…” It struck Edward then that he’d never even learned Alice’s last name.
“Alice is my mum. Who are you?” She studied him carefully.
“I just came back to town. Didn’t know she had a daughter.” Edward eyed the dog and stayed put, deciding against moving closer.
“How long’s it been since you were here?” she asked, squinting slightly.
“Fifteen years.”
“Well, you can’t be my dad, then.” The girl laughed at her own joke. “I’m not her birth daughter, anyway. My parents will be home soon. Fancy waiting?” She gestured toward a narrow gate beside the fence.
Edward shrugged.
“Aren’t you scared? Letting a stranger inside?”
She sobered. “No. What, you think I’m alone in there? Max wouldn’t let anyone hurt me. Plus, we’ve got CCTV. So—coming?” She pushed the gate open.
Edward locked the car and followed. She waited, holding the door for him.
The garden leading up to the two-story house was neat but not overly manicured—the bushes needed a trim, the grass was due for a cut. A wide slate path led from the gate to the front steps.
The house had clearly been renovated, but it was unmistakably the same one. Fifteen years ago, it had seemed enormous to Edward—back when he’d been crammed into a tiny dorm room, before that, sharing a cramped flat with his parents and little sister. The space here had stunned him then. Now, he lived in one just like it, bigger even.
Inside, the furnishings had changed. Expensive, tasteful furniture now filled the rooms, a large telly mounted on the wall. Plush carpet muffled his footsteps.
“If you want a drink, the bar’s over there,” the girl said, motioning before heading upstairs.
“I’m driving,” Edward reminded her. “What’s your name?”
“Lillian. I’ll just be a minute—need to change.” She disappeared up the steps.
Alone, Edward glanced around. Not a single photograph on the shelves. He sat in an armchair by the fireplace—another new addition—and let his thoughts drift.
*Flashback*
“Come on, mate. Just for a bit. Lucy’s bringing a friend. What am I supposed to do, sit there like a plank?” Tom wheedled.
“Got an exam tomorrow. Need to study,” Edward muttered, nose buried in his textbook.
“A few hours won’t matter. You won’t learn it all anyway. Better to go in fresh. Come on, Ed, please? Lucy’s mates are always fit,” Tom pressed.
“Fine. But not long.” Edward shut the book.
“That’s the spirit. Knew you’d cave. You’ll thank me later. Hands off Lucy, though—she’s mine,” Tom warned.
The lads arrived at the cul-de-sac where Lucy lived, slightly late. Music blared inside. A bottle of wine, glasses, and a platter of snacks sat on the coffee table.
“Took your time,” Lucy huffed. She was striking—dark-haired, sharp-eyed, effortlessly pretty.
“Had to drag Edward along. Exam tomorrow,” Tom explained, pulling her close.
“Well, no point wasting time, then.” Lucy’s annoyance melted into a smile as she tugged Tom toward the table. “Pour us some. Alice, where are you?” she called up the stairs.
A moment later, a girl in a simple floral dress descended. She wasn’t as striking as Lucy, but something about her drew Edward in.
“This is my friend Alice,” Lucy said, cranking the music louder.
They drank. Tom and Lucy danced.
“Shall we?” Edward asked, popping a grape into his mouth.
“Sure. And let’s skip the formalities—‘you’ is fine,” Alice replied easily.
She danced well. Edward’s hands rested on her waist as he studied her—no makeup, just clear skin and deep blue eyes framed by long lashes. Light made them shift from near-black to cornflower blue. He avoided looking at her lips.
The song changed, but they kept swaying.
“Where’d Lucy and Tom go?” Alice paused, glancing around.
The pair had vanished. Alone, silence settled awkwardly between them.
“I should go. You’ve got an exam,” Alice said.
“Let me walk you.”
The conversation hadn’t gone far by the time they reached her gate.
“Wait.” Edward caught her arm as she pushed it open. “See you tomorrow?”
“Maybe.” She pulled free and dashed inside before he could ask for her number.
He walked back to the dorm, mind full of her—those eyes, the feel of her waist under his hands. Tom didn’t return until dawn.
Tom barely scraped a pass. Edward aced the exam. *Lucky question. Alice brought me luck,* he thought.
“So? Make a move? She wasn’t bad. I’d have—” Tom jabbered on the walk back.
*”What did you say?”* Edward whirled, gripping Tom’s arm.
Tom shrank under the glare. Wiry and shorter, he was no match. His eyes darted nervously.
“Only joking! Lucy’s more than enough for me,” he backpedaled.
“Better be.” Edward let go.
They walked the rest of the way in silence. Tom collapsed into bed. Edward drove to the cul-de-sac. No number for Alice, and he wouldn’t ask Tom. Daylight made everything look different, but he found the house by the fence. The gate was unlocked again.
He knocked. Alice answered in a short robe, looking soft and sleep-mussed. His breath caught.
“Come in. Exam go alright?” she asked, stepping aside.
“Yeah,” he croaked.
The house was humbler than Lucy’s. Smaller, too.
“Parents home?” Edward asked, eyes wandering to avoid the robe’s loose neckline.
“No. Back tonight.” She said it simply. “Hungry?”
“No,” he lied.
“Tea, then?”
He thought he saw amusement in her gaze.
“Fancy the cinema?” he blurted.
Alice stepped closer, hands on his shoulders like when they’d danced, and kissed him.
He left fifteen minutes before her parents returned, walking home in a daze. They met a few more times before term ended.
Then his mum called—his father was in hospital. Edward rushed to say goodbye, but Alice wasn’t home. No answer when he called. He left a note and left.
Days passed. No reply. He called Tom, but he’d gone home too and knew nothing.
“Ask Lucy. They’re mates,” Edward pressed, stung by Alice’s silence.
Tom said they’d split. Wouldn’t call her.
His father worsened. Paralysis set in. Edward couldn’t leave his mum and little sister. They agreed—he’d transfer to a local uni, work to support them.
He fetched his things. Tom, Lucy, Alice—all gone. Calls went unanswered. Then her number disconnected. Remembering that teasing look, he decided it had meant nothing to her. Time to forget.
He married kind, steady Margaret. A son came a year later, a daughter two years after. No time for old flames. Even Tom faded away—just a bloke he’d shared a room with.
His father died. Edward’s business thrived. He bought a flash car, a big house. His mum helpedHe turned the key in the ignition, the engine rumbling to life, and drove away without looking back.
