That had been a mistake, too, he realised much later as he watched the taxi draw up outside the house.

Had they really thought making love again would make it easier to say goodbye? Breakfast had been ruined, of course, but neither of them had cared. They had made fresh coffee eventually and reheated the croissants and ate them together, neither of them wanting to think about the minutes ticking away.

Now the moment they had both been dreading all morning had arrived.

Tilly came outside to the taxi with him. She watched as he threw his bag into the back and then turned to her.

‘Well, I guess this is it,’ he said.

‘Yes.’ Her throat tightened painfully. ‘But I’ll see you at the ceremony when they announce the winners. You are coming back for that, aren’t you?’

‘Of course,’ he said, thinking that was not for another three months.

Once he would have been impatient to find out whether he had won. Now all he could think was that it meant three months without Tilly.

And, after that, the rest of his life without her.

It would be fine, he told himself. Once he was in New York, there would be so much to do, he wouldn’t have time to miss her. He would be making a new life, being even more successful than before. He would be relieved that Tilly had been sensible.

He wouldn’t feel the way he did now.

He looked for the last time into Tilly’s dark, beautiful blue eyes, knowing that he could never tell her how he felt. So he reached for her instead, and she melted into him and they kissed, a bittersweet kiss that went on and on because neither could bear to let the other go.

‘I’m glad Keith pushed me into taking part in this stupid programme,’ Campbell confessed against her hair at last. ‘I’m glad Greg broke his leg.’

‘I’m glad you were the one who got to push me down that cliff,’ said Tilly.

‘I’m glad about last night, too.’

Tilly was terribly afraid that she was going to cry. She couldn’t do that, not after being so brave all morning. ‘Me, too.’ She swallowed, hard. ‘Now, get in that taxi and go before I start getting all sloppy!’

‘All right,’ said Campbell.

He held her tight against him for one last hard kiss and then he let her go. ‘Goodbye, Jenkins. Don’t go fulfilling any more fantasies without me.’

Tilly’s determined smile wobbled. ‘Don’t call me Jenkins,’ she managed with difficulty.

Her heart was cracking, tearing, as she watched him get into the taxi. ‘Goodbye,’ she said, but it was barely more than a whisper.

Campbell leant forward to tell the driver to take him to the station, then he looked back at Tilly and lifted a hand in farewell. She waved back, barely able to see through her tears, and then the taxi was pulling away, turning on to the street, and he was gone.

Tilly took a fortifying gulp of champagne. She probably shouldn’t have ordered a glass in her room, but she badly needed something to steady her nerves. In a few minutes, she would have to go downstairs and see Campbell again, and she had no idea how she was going to handle it. For three months now, she had longed to see him, but now the moment was almost upon her she was terrified that she would simply go to pieces.

The programme had been screened the week before. Suzy had done a good job and it had been very cleverly edited, with a fair balance between all the contestants at each stage and good coverage of their chosen charities.

Expecting it to be hidden in the daytime schedule somewhere, Tilly had been taken aback at how popular the programme had proved, and she had been overwhelmed at how many viewers had voted. Perfect strangers had come up to her in the street and told her that they hoped she would win, and the hospice had reported a flood of donations since they had been featured.

Tonight was the final ceremony when they would announce the winners, and the charities who would receive the winning donations. Tilly knew she ought to be nervous about the results, but all she could think about was seeing Campbell.

It had been three months. Three months of telling herself it was all for the best. Three months of trying to forget the night they had spent together.

Three months of missing him.

‘That’s what comes of forcing people out of their ruts,’ she had raged to her brothers. ‘I was perfectly happy until you made me do that stupid television programme.’

‘We were only trying to help you get over Olivier,’ they protested.

‘Well, don’t help any more!’

The kitchen was so empty without Campbell, her bed so lonely. It wasn’t just a physical ache either. Tilly hadn’t realised how alive she had felt in his presence, how everything had seemed to click into place when he’d been there. She missed talking to him, arguing with him, laughing with him…She even missed being exasperated by him. That was how bad it was.

Time and again, she’d tried to convince herself that she didn’t really know Campbell at all. They had spent a matter of days together. She knew nothing about his life, his home, his friends. It was silly to build one night into such a huge deal. Much better to treat it as the brief fling she had insisted it was.

But deep down, she was convinced that she did know him. She knew the way the crease at the corner of his mouth deepened when he was amused. She knew exactly how he turned his head, how his brows contracted, the way he would look at her and shake his head in exasperated disbelief. There had been so many times when she’d wanted to turn to him and tell him her thoughts, and she’d always known exactly how he would reply-usually irritably, of course, but Tilly wouldn’t have cared if only he had been there to reply for himself.

All the participants had been sent a copy of the final programme in advance. Tilly had watched it with Cleo and Tony, although she’d longed to be able to see it on her own so that she could freeze the picture whenever Campbell was on the screen.

Most of the shots were of the two of them together. There she was, clutching Campbell’s neck at the top of that wretched cliff, falling on to the muddy river bank, playing the fool on the mountain top.

Tilly’s throat had ached as she’d watched herself. She remembered it all so clearly. She could practically smell the air and feel the breeze in her face. It was as if Campbell were still beside her, making her tingle with the astringency of his presence, the touch of his hand, the heart-twisting quiver of amusement at the corner of his mouth.

There were clips from the video diaries, too. She rambled and Campbell was cool and concise. Everyone laughed at Campbell in the pink apron, but the most telling scene was at Cleo and Tony’s wedding when the camera caught Tilly looking at Campbell with her heart in her eyes.

Cleo had turned and fixed her with an accusing expression. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were in love with him?’ she demanded.

Tilly squirmed, but couldn’t deny it. ‘Because there’s no point in loving him,’ she tried to explain. ‘Nothing’s going to change. Campbell’s living in the States now. Even if his ex-wife doesn’t want him, there’ll be any number of single women in New York waiting to snap him up.’

‘You should tell him how you feel,’ said Cleo, but Tilly shook her head.

‘It’s too late for that.’

She had heard from Suzy that Campbell would only be in the country for a couple of nights. He would come to the awards ceremony, but then he had some important meeting to get back to. They wouldn’t have time to do more than say hello. There was no use expecting anything else.

That didn’t stop Tilly from hoping, of course. Oh, she wasn’t stupid. She knew nothing lasting could come of it, but that one night had been so special, she couldn’t help wanting it again. If Campbell was still single, she had decided, she was going to suggest it to him. She was staying in the hotel where the ceremony was taking place. She would have a room, if he wanted to share it with her.

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