“What did you ever see in him?”
Nadia stepped out of the shop and was descending the steps when a sleek red car pulled up in front of her. A young woman got out, her dress billowing in the gust of wind as a loose strand of hair tangled across her face. With a practised toss of her head, she swept it away, smoothed her skirt, and walked past without noticing.
“Ellie? Ellie!” Nadia called after her.
The woman turned, her eyes scanning before settling on Nadia. For a moment, they simply stared at one another.
“Don’t you recognise me?” Nadia moved back toward the shop entrance. “It’s me, Nadia. Nadia Harper.”
“Nadia. Honestly, I didn’t. Well, you know what they say—long time no see,” Ellie said coolly.
“I see you’re just passing through,” Nadia said, tugging her aside. “Let’s step out of the way. You look… different.”
Ellie smiled faintly, as if humouring her.
“Do you live nearby?” she asked.
“No, I work here. Just popped in on my break. What about you?”
“Listen, why are we standing about? You’ve got time, haven’t you? Let’s go for tea. When else will we bump into each other?”
Nadia agreed.
They found a nearly empty café a few doors down, more of a greasy spoon than anything proper. A window table, sticky laminated menus, and a waitress chewing gum with a bored expression.
“Never mind,” Ellie cut in before they could glance at the offerings. “Two salads, two fairy cakes, and tea. And be quick about it.”
Her gaze flicked back to Nadia as the waitress shuffled off, hips swaying.
“So, how’s life?” Ellie settled into her plastic chair.
“Fine. Was married—briefly. No children. You look like you’ve done well for yourself,” Nadia replied.
“Can’t complain.” Ellie laughed, flashing a wedding band on her finger.
“Children?”
The waitress returned, slapping down tiny plates with miniature cakes, teacups, and a small porcelain pot.
“Listen… are your parents still with us?” Ellie asked abruptly once they were alone again.
“Dad passed years ago. Mum… well, she’s alive, but not the same since,” Nadia said softly, spinning her cup on its saucer.
Ellie poured the tea. The scent of peppermint rose between them.
“Shame. I always liked your parents. Not like mine. My mother was never satisfied—never a kind word. No wonder my father left. Your house was different. So peaceful.” Her voice softened with memory.
Nadia sighed.
***
They’d lived in the same building—Nadia on the fourth floor, Danny on the third. Same nursery, same school, same class. Danny’s father drank, and when the shouting started, Danny would flee upstairs.
Then in Year Nine, a new girl arrived. Her parents had split, and after selling their old place, she and her mother moved into the next block. Ellie—bright, striking—immediately caught Danny’s eye. Nadia burned with jealousy. They used to walk to school together. Now…
“What’s wrong? Forget something?” she’d snapped when Danny halted in the middle of the courtyard.
“Wait a sec.”
“For what?”
Just then, Ellie burst out of the neighbouring building, grinning and locking eyes with Danny. Around her, he transformed—jokes, laughter, a version of himself Nadia didn’t recognise.
After school, Danny raced to the cloakroom, always ready with Ellie’s coat. They walked home together, forgetting Nadia existed. At break, Ellie chatted with her as if nothing had changed.
Once, they went to the cinema as a trio. When the lights came on, Nadia saw their entwined hands. They didn’t notice when she fell behind. She never went with them again.
After sixth form, they scattered—Nadia to university for economics, Danny to trade college, Ellie to fashion school.
That winter, Nadia fell ill. Snow dusted the streets, Christmas lights flickered. Peering through her window, she spotted Ellie hurrying toward her building. She flung the door open, waiting—but the footsteps stopped one floor below. Danny’s voice, muffled: “Finally…” The door clicked shut.
Nadia’s face flamed. She sank onto the hallway bench, tears streaming. So, Ellie visited while his parents were out. The thought of what they might be doing made her stomach twist in pain.
Once, her mother returned from the shops with news—Danny had moved out. Rented a flat with Ellie.
In her final year, Nadia married a classmate. His mother lived with them, meddling endlessly.
“Alex, why did you marry me?” she’d asked once. “No wife could ever replace your mum.”
He just shrugged.
“She means well. You’ll get used to it.”
“I don’t want to.”
The divorce was quick. No children, nothing to split.
She saw Danny only once—at his father’s funeral. No chance to talk.
***
Years had melted away, yet here Ellie sat—radiant, content. The salads arrived. Ellie dug in while Nadia sipped cooling tea.
“What about Danny?”
Ellie’s fork froze mid-air. “Still hung up on him?” She leaned back, smirking. “I always envied you, you know. Your family was lovely. Mine? All I had was my looks. Danny was easy to reel in.”
A silence.
“But we were too different. He wanted marriage, kids—I wanted to live. Now? Wealthy husband, everything I dreamed of.”
“And Danny?”
“Oh, stop. He scraped together a tiny flat. That’s it. Alone, far as I know. So, the coast is clear… but honestly, what was it about him?”
Nadia checked her watch.
“Work calls,” she said abruptly, standing.
Ellie waved her off. “My treat.”
At the door, Nadia hesitated, then turned back.
“Forgot something?” Ellie teased.
“His address. Write it down.”
For a moment, Ellie faltered. Then, sighing, she scribbled on a napkin and handed it over with a mocking smile.
“Good luck,” she drawled.
At her desk, Nadia unfolded the napkin. *Go on then—march right up to him, will you?* She could almost hear Ellie’s laugh.
“I will,” she whispered.
“Sorry?” a colleague asked.
Nadia tucked the napkin away.
On her walk home, leaves crackled underfoot. Summer lingered warmly. She hesitated in the courtyard, glancing up at Danny’s old window. Memories surged—school runs, his father’s rages, his refuge in her flat. Where had it all gone?
She found his building easily. At the doorstep, doubts swarmed. *He never loved you. Never called. Stop fooling yourself.*
She spun to leave—and collided with Danny.
“Nadia? What are you doing here?”
Her heart leapt.
“I—just visiting a colleague. But she wasn’t in.”
Danny looked rough—stubble, feverish eyes.
“Caught a bug. Just nipped out for milk.” He held up the bag weakly.
“You should be resting.” She steered him inside.
His flat was bare, bachelor-neat. She fried potatoes, boiled milk, sent him to bed. When she checked later, he was asleep, forehead damp.
She left quietly.
“Late tonight,” her mother remarked when she got home.
“Ran into Ellie.”
“Thought you two weren’t friends.”
“Just tea. She’s married. Flash car. Same as ever.”
“And you?”
“What about me?”
“Grandchildren, ever?”
“Mum, please.”
She tried reading, but Danny’s face—sleep-soft, sick-pale—hovered in her mind.
The phone rang as she brushed her teeth.
“You never changed your number,” Danny rasped. “Why’d you leave?”
Her skin prickled.
“You needed sleep. Feeling better?”
“Much. Nadia… I know I messed up. Not the time, but—will you come back?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Course. Or—where do you work? I’ll meet you.”
“I’ll come,” she said.
How many years had she waited?
The next morning, she dressed carefully—smart dress, makeup—only to scrub it off last-minute.
“Late again?” her mother called as she rushed out.
“Party at work.”
“Grandkids?”
Nadia didn’t answer.
Her heart raced all the way to the office. Later, she’d see him again.
And this time, maybe—just maybe—things would be different.
