‘By cab.’
‘Me too.’ He looked up and down the street. ‘We’re not likely to pick one up here at this time of night.’ He held out his elbow and she tucked her arm around his. ‘Which way?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said, in no hurry to find a cab, let go of this moment. End the evening. ‘What will you do now?’ she asked as they began to walk.
‘I’ve been offered a chair at the university.’
‘Here in London?’ She thought about Cordillera. The wildness of the rainforest. A magical pool where a man and woman could pretend they were in Eden. ‘It would be very different from what you’re used to. Won’t you miss fieldwork?’
‘The aching back, the lack of basic facilities, the shortage of funding?’
‘The magic moment when you find something that’s a piece of the jigsaw,’ she prompted, not believing him for a moment. ‘That helps bring the picture of ancient lives into focus?’
He glanced at her. ‘I’d still get my hands dirty once in a while,’ He said. ‘Not in Cordillera. The structures are not safe. But we’re running other sites. And the slightly higher than average profile I’ve achieved, thanks to the earthquake, will be a big help in raising funds.’
‘So? You’re going to take it?’
He shrugged. ‘I’m waiting for the right incentive package.’
‘Oh.’ They turned into a major shopping street. A cab stopped outside a restaurant to disgorge its passengers. They ignored it. Walked on. ‘What kind of incentive would it take?’
‘I’ll know when I hear it.’ He glanced at her. ‘What about you? Where do you go from here?’
She shook her head, coming back to the real world. ‘I can’t think of anything but Rosie at the moment.’
‘The little girl you rescued?’
Manda stopped.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘She ran away, Nick. Months ago. I only found out today.’ Her breath condensed in the freezing air. ‘She’s out here somewhere, in the city.’ Then, looking around, realised where she was. ‘Oh, God. This is where we found her. Just down here.’
And she pulled away and ran down a side alley, coming to an abrupt halt as she saw the Dumpster. For one crazy moment she’d thought she be there, digging around for food.
She turned and laid her face against Nick’s coat as he caught up with her, put his arms around her.
‘She’ll die, Nick. I’ve let her down. I should have been there.’
‘Shh.’ She felt his breath against her hair as he kissed her, but she pulled away.
‘Rosie! Do you hear me?’ she called. ‘I’m not giving up on you. I’ll come back tomorrow. Search every alleyway in London if I have to, but you will not die, do you hear me?’
She clapped her hands over her mouth. Shook her head. Tears freezing on her cheeks.
‘Manda…’
‘What?’ she asked crossly, rubbing a glove across her face. Then she realised that he wasn’t looking at her but over her head and swung round, caught her breath as she saw the small, defiant figure standing glaring at them.
‘Rosie?’
‘Is he your boyfriend?’ she demanded.
Manda swallowed.
He’d said ‘the rest of our lives’ but it was too soon for anything except knowing how much she had missed him. How much she wanted him to stay. How much she loved him.
‘This is Nick, Rosie,’ she said, grabbing all of those things and putting them together. ‘He saved my life.’
‘What did he do?’
‘I was falling, down into a horrible dark place, but he held on to me even when he might have fallen too. And I’m here to hold on to you.’ She crossed to the Dumpster, put her hand on the lid. ‘Hungry?’ she asked, knowing that she was going to have to open it. Knowing that she would do anything. Then, remembering something that Belle had told her about living on the streets as a child-the one thing they’d have given anything for-she said, ‘Or maybe you’d like to come to my place and I’ll make you a bacon sandwich. With ketchup.’
‘Is your boyfriend coming?’
Nick Jago looked at this beautiful woman. He’d loved her before he’d even seen her, he realised, his heart stolen by the mixture of strength, vulnerability-something more that made her everything she was. Then, when he’d seen her, his eyes had confirmed everything his heart had already known. It was as if his entire world had been shaken to bits and then, when it had been put back together, everything had somehow fallen into place. And then she had gone, whirled away from him in a helicopter before he could say the words. Still running?
He didn’t know, but he’d given her space, given himself space for the whirlwind of feelings to be blown away.
But it hadn’t happened. Sometimes, in the darkest moment, you met your destiny and he knew, without doubt, that she was his.
‘I’m not Miranda’s boyfriend, Rosie,’ he said, moving to join her. ‘I’m the man she’s going to marry.’
And when Miranda turned to stare at him, he held her gaze, daring her to deny it. She didn’t. Her silence was all he needed and, taking off his coat, he said, ‘You know that incentive to stay in London that I was talking about?’
She just nodded as he wrapped it around the freezing child.
‘I just heard it.’
‘Rosie!’ Her room was empty. Her bed not slept in. Manda didn’t know what had woken her, only that she’d known, instantly, that Rosie had run again. She turned as Nick joined her in the bedroom doorway. ‘She’s gone, Nick.’
It had been six months. It hadn’t been easy, but they’d made it and, now that Social Services were ready to approve their adoption, she’d been certain they were through the worst. And Rosie had been so excited about being their bridesmaid.
Now, with the wedding less than a week away, she’d run again.
She turned to Nick and buried her face in his chest. ‘What now?’
‘I think she may have started taking food again,’ Nick said. ‘I thought maybe she was just a little unsettled- about staying with Daisy while we’re on our honeymoon.’
It had taken a while before she’d trusted them enough to stop taking stuff from the fridge to keep in her bag.
‘But she adores Daisy. Can’t wait to stay with her and Jude next week. I thought she was sure of us. Settled.’
There had been problems before, when they’d set the date for the wedding. She’d run away then too, afraid that they’d have babies of their own and wouldn’t want her any more.
But when Nick had told her that wasn’t going to happen, had explained that Manda couldn’t have children of her own, she’d seemed to settle.
‘Don’t panic, Miranda. She always goes back to the same place. We’ll go and pick her up and get to the bottom of this.’ Then, frowning, ‘Did you hear something?’
‘It sounded like the back door. Burglars?’
Rosie’s fiercely whispered ‘Shh…’ answered that question.
‘The kitchen?’ Nick suggested.
They opened the door. Rosie had her head in the fridge and didn’t see them. The small boy, sitting on one of the kitchen stools, almost smothered by one of Rosie’s padded jackets, leapt to his feet, knocking over a mug tree, sending crockery flying as he bolted for the door.
Nick cut him off, scooped him up, holding him easily, despite his desperate struggle. He was about five years old, his mop of black hair a matted tangle and skinny as a lath, but he had huge dark eyes and the kind of beauty that would melt hearts at twenty paces.
Nick smiled at him, tucked him up against his chest and said, ‘Who’s your friend, Rosie?’
She closed the fridge door very slowly, then turned to face them. ‘He was eating out of the bins behind the supermarket. I saw him the other day and I took him some stuff. Clothes, food. On my way to school.’
