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‘Connor?’ Tom exclaimed, as he made his way to his girlfriend’s bedsit. ‘It is you, isn’t it? We thought you were dead, man.’ He clasped Connor’s arms.

‘Tom? What are you doing here?’

‘I live in Bournemouth now, near my sister. God, Ellie’s gonna freak.’

‘I heard she got married.’

‘It’s a long story, mate. Do you live here? Is there somewhere we can go and chat?’

Chapter Forty Three

Eleanor

After I’d heard Connor’s story from Tom, I knew I’d have to see him. Tom drove me to the compound and dropped me outside a large seventies style apartment block.

‘I’ll pick you up at ten, okay?’

I looked at my watch. That would give me three hours. I worried that three hours would be too long. Then I worried that it wouldn’t be long enough.

‘See you later,’ I replied. ‘Thanks, Tom.’

I started walking up the entrance steps, stopped and turned to watch as Tom drove out of view. I could hardly feel the ground beneath my feet and I clutched the metal handrail. I was scared and excited, but I didn’t let myself think about what this reunion would mean. Was I mad to be doing this?

I looked at the blur of flat numbers on the foyer wall. Eventually 26B came into focus and I pressed the button.

‘Hello?’ came a tinny voice. That familiar northern accent which made my stomach flip.

‘It’s me. Eleanor.’

A buzzer sounded and I pushed the heavy glass door. I walked up the stairs, almost dizzy with anticipation and nerves, stale cooking smells assaulting my nostrils. Finally I reached his floor and, as I emerged from the stairwell, I saw him standing there in his half-open doorway. He grinned at me. I smiled nervously back. As we looked at each other, the years disappeared and I realised, on one level at least, nothing had changed.

‘Ellie.’

‘Hi, Connor.’ He looked the same but different. He had filled out, turned into a man. His shoulders were broader and his face had lost its youthfulness. Thick stubble grazed his chin and his hair had flecks of grey. I wondered what he thought of me.

He put his hand on the small of my back to guide me into the apartment. His touch lit up all my nerve endings.

We sat opposite each other in a large airy lounge.

‘You look good, Ellie. I missed you. All these years…’

‘I know. I thought you were… Did Tom tell you, we thought you were dead?’

‘Yeah. Abi and Sam did a good job didn’t they?’

‘She lied to my face. She told me you’d been shot. Killed.’

‘Nice.’

‘I knew she could get a bit jealous, but I’d never have thought she could be so spiteful. Vindictive. Why? What was the point?’

‘Oh, she was unhappy. She wanted to spread it around; make us as miserable as she was. I saw her after they let me out. She enjoyed telling me you were happily married to Johnny.’

I coloured. What must Connor think of me… running back to my ex?

‘It’s all history now though.’ He stood up. ‘D’you want a drink? I’ve got elderberry wine. It’s pretty horrible…’

I laughed. ‘Thanks. I’ll give it a go.’ I stood up to follow him.

‘Sit down. I’ll bring it in.’

As I sat there, nerves assailed me. I felt sixteen again. Uncertain. Unconfident.

Connor came back into the room with two glasses. He sat next to me this time. His thigh brushing mine. The wine glasses on the coffee table, the scent of my lover returned from the dead.

‘You’re so beautiful, Ellie. More beautiful now. I missed you so much.’ He took one of my curls and twirled it through his calloused fingers.

I couldn’t speak. He kissed my eyelid, my cheek, my mouth.

* * *

Connor and I began a desperate, hungry affair. Compulsive. I had my security and comfort at home with a loving family and I had my childhood sweetheart returned to me. My pale-skinned, dark-eyed lover. It was exhilarating, but uncomfortable. I hadn’t realised how much I’d missed him and we did our best to try to make up for all the stolen years. We inhabited a bubble, completely separate from normal life, like stepping out of time. Our meetings had their own illicit flavour, their own shape and colour.

One evening, we were chatting in his little kitchen, as a pan of risotto bubbled on the stove. He sat at the table sipping a beer.

‘Remind me. How did we manage to let Bletchley and Abigail wreck this?’ I asked him.

‘I never liked that bitch,’ he replied, stretching out his legs onto the other kitchen chair. ‘You sure you don’t want any help?’ he asked.

‘No, I want to cook you a meal. Just sit and talk to me. I really don’t know how I had her as a friend for so long.’ I shook out a tablecloth and watched it billow down over the table. Then I put a cream candle on the centre of the cloth and took Johnny’s lighter out of my pocket to light it with. A yellow flame flared to life.

‘We could’ve been together all those years,’ Connor said, staring at the candle. ‘And now we’re hiding away in my apartment like criminals. We could’ve had a family of our own. I’d have loved to have had kids with you, Ellie.’

Another secret.

I took a sip of my beer. I hadn’t meant to speak of it, and I knew it would be yet another betrayal of Johnny and his years of love and kindness, but I hated to see the look of sadness in Connor’s eyes. And I felt he deserved to know why I married Johnny so quickly after his disappearance.

‘Connor,’ I began.

‘Mmm?’

‘You need to know something… Riley. Well… She’s yours.’ I hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that.

‘What?’

‘Riley’s yours. She’s your daughter.’

‘What do you mean? She’s… Riley’s my daughter? I’ve got a daughter?’

‘After you were taken away, I found out I was pregnant. I didn’t know what to do.’

His face bleached white. He stood up, frowned, balled his fists and pressed his lips together.

‘Connor? Are you okay?’

‘So Johnny had her too? He had you… and he had my child.’

‘I know. I’m so, so sorry. But I really thought you had died. If I’d had any idea you were out there somewhere, alive, I would’ve searched for you… I would’ve…’

‘I’ve got a daughter.’ He exhaled and sat back down. The candle flickered.

‘Connor… Are you okay?’

‘I don’t know.’ He chewed his thumb nail and stared at a point on the wall.

I felt nervous. I thought he was going to do something. Smash something up or shout or… something. I turned off the heat on the stove and came and sat opposite him.

‘Connor…’

‘What?’ he snapped, then immediately looked contrite, reached across and took my hands. ‘Sorry. I know it’s not your fault. But I feel cheated. Like my life was stolen…’

‘I know.’

‘When can I meet her?’

‘I really don’t think that’s… That’s not going to be possible. Riley thinks Johnny is her father and…’

‘Does he know? Does Johnny know she’s not his?’

‘Yes. He knew from the start.’

‘Does she look like me?’

‘Yes. Very much like you.’

‘I have to meet her.’

‘No. She wouldn’t understand. It would hurt her too much.’

‘But…’

‘No.’

Eventually, he accepted they would never be able to meet. He didn’t like it, but he reluctantly agreed that such a revelation would not be good for Riley. We had no appetite for anything that evening. The risotto went cold, congealed and I threw it in the bin.

* * *

Connor and I continued to see each other whenever we could. Tom knew about it and, whilst he disapproved, he also understood the depth of our feelings and knew about the injustice that originally doomed our lives together.