The Complete #LoveLondon Collection

‘I thought it was Lark who was blind, not Emily,’ she flung back, hurt. ‘Didn’t she see the state of this?’ She pointed at her scar. Sucking in a shaky breath, she immediately felt awful for what she’d said about the children. ‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t worry about it. You are pretty though,’ he frowned.

‘I don’t need pity,’ George blinked, thinking furiously of the way she was going to get out of this conversation.

‘No pity. I’m just being honest. It’s the way I’m built. I’m also used to dealing with parents of children with special educational needs, where we have open conversations about their child’s challenges and the support they require to maximise their opportunities. So I say what I think. I’m sorry if that upsets you.’

‘Uh-huh.’ She nodded, pulling her hair forward.

He grinned, ‘Careful, I may have to get ear protectors or ear muffs to block out your constant chatter. I’m not sure I can stand it.’

Despite herself, George smiled.

‘No, don’t smile. The straight-faced look goes much better with the cool eye patch. Like a brooding, sexy, girl pirate.’

‘Are you for real?’ she blurted, looking around for Buttons. It might be a good idea to leave. Leo was either mocking her or flirting with her and she wasn’t sure how to handle either.

‘Buttons. Buttons!’ Darkness was falling and she couldn’t see him. She rattled the biscuit bag in her pocket and called the puppy again.

‘Last time I checked, I was real,’ Leo said, falling into step with her as she started up the hill, hoping for a better view from the top ‘And don’t get defensive. We’re just chatting. I come here for a walk most evenings to unwind after work. So, you’re here and I’m here. Hey, why don’t we do the skyline this time?’

‘Why?’

‘Why not?’

George expelled a long sigh. Might as well get it over with, she got the feeling he would just keep asking every time he saw her otherwise. When she got to the top of the hill, Buttons was waiting for her expectantly; the expression on his face seeming to say what took you so long? Shaking her head at him, she gave him a chew and hooked him back onto the lead. Leo moved up beside her when she was done, turning her to face the City and slowly describing the different buildings from left to right. She did nothing but nod along as he spoke, conscious of the warmth of his arm against hers as he pointed things out, and the fresh scent of his aftershave. When he finished, she took a deep, shaky breath, staring at the view as twilight descended. ‘Thanks.’

‘My pleasure.’

After a few minutes of companionable silence, he spun around to study her profile. ‘So, what’s your story?’

She shrugged. She didn’t want to talk about horrible things. She wanted to enjoy the beauty of the night, the lights of the city twinkling as the light of day faded.

‘Do you ever say more than five words in one go?’ he asked.

She shrugged again.

This time he laughed. ‘Ok-ay. Well that’s fine, I can do enough talking for both of us. I was born in Holborn to Cathy and Chris Miller on 10th March 1988.’ The dry crisp tone was in the style of an old fashioned BBC presenter. ‘A rather small baby, I shot up at the age of seven, when I discovered a hereto unknown brand of sweetcorn known as Green Giant, eating it every day with my greens, convinced I could make it to six foot five at least.’ He glanced down wryly, ‘And believe me, I was very disappointed when I stopped growing at seventeen and had only reached six foot one. I started walking and talking very early.’ He grinned, getting into the swing of it. ‘At my three year health visitor check, my Mum –’

‘All right!’ she shook her head. ‘Stop, please. I’ll tell you just to shut you up. I don’t know why you want to know anyway.’

‘Maybe I enjoy your company.’

She snorted.

‘Or maybe it’s because I’ve always had a weakness for surly, impatient brunettes with eye-patch complexes.’

She gaped and burst into giggles. She wasn’t offended. In fact, he was really the only person who didn’t ignore the scars and patch, or look away, or fumble conversations. He had the gall to joke about it. It made her slightly uncomfortable, but it was also honest and real.

‘I was on my way back to uni on a Sunday evening in late September. My car got hit by a lorry. The driver had a heart attack at the wheel.’ She stared out at the distant skyline, describing the events of that horrific night in short, sharp sentences. She did not want to cry in public. ‘He didn’t make it, because of his heart…’ she gulped. ‘It wasn’t his fault.’

‘Wow,’ Leo stated. ‘That really sucks.’

George let out a disbelieving laugh. ‘Are you serious?’

‘It’s tragic and awful and unfair,’ he said gently. ‘But the only way I can think of to summarise it is, it sucks. I bet you’ve used some much stronger words.’

‘In the beginning,’ she shared, ‘the f-word featured a lot, but lately I’ve been going with, it blows.’

‘We’ve both been watching too many American TV shows,’ he decided, shifting closer. ‘Do you remember it? The accident?’

She took in a long, shaky breath, squaring her shoulders. ‘I have flashbacks sometimes,’ she whispered. She hadn’t admitted that to anyone but her therapist, and hadn’t wanted to burden her parents, but there was something about Leo, his easy manner and non-judgemental ways that made it easier. Perhaps it was the fact they barely knew each other, so had no emotional investment in one another that made it possible for her to share. ‘I remember the dark motorway lit only by my headlights. The rain thrashing down against my windscreen so that I had my wipers on the highest speed.’

‘Anything else?’

‘No.’ She winced. Time to go home.

‘Nothing about the crash itself?’

‘I-,’ she hesitated, ‘I can’t.’

‘But it might help.’

‘Respect my feelings, okay?’ she turned to leave.

‘Of course,’ he agreed easily. ‘So are you still at uni?’

‘Of course not.’

‘Why?’

‘I’m not ready.’ She pointed to the patch again. ‘Look at me.’

His eyes ran over her face as if he didn’t see anything of concern. ‘So, what do you do?’

‘Nothing, at the moment.’ She hugged her arms across her body.

‘You know, Georgiana, if the kids I teach can have meaningful lives, then so can you. We don’t think about their disabilities as limitations, we think of them as challenges and opportunities. We don’t look at what they can’t achieve. We consider everything they can achieve. You’re no different.’

Her mouth dropped open. ‘I have to go,’ she said abruptly, feeling reprimanded. Tears were scorching the back of her eyes. ‘Bye.’ Tugging on Buttons’ lead she walked briskly towards home, not giving Leo a chance to respond.

When George saw Leo ducking into the local corner shop a few days later, she didn’t mean to stop. She definitely didn’t mean to linger until he came out, but somehow her feet wouldn’t move.

It was getting on for dinner time, and she’d just taken Buttons for a stroll on Primrose Hill. There’d not been a single trace of disappointment that Leo wasn’t there. None at all. Why would she want to see him when she’d made such an idiot of herself, running off like that, just because he’d called her on something? She’d been cross with him for the rest of the night and some of the next morning, but once she’d cooled down, she could see he had a point. She was as physically recovered as she was ever going to be. So, what was she going to do now?

It was something she’d mused over as she strolled through the park, the lamps along the paths doing a good job of lighting the way. The fresh air had felt cleansing, healthy. She’d puffed her way up and down the hill but wasn’t as tired as previous times. Her mum had been right; this was good for her. After an initial curious glance at her eye-patch and scar, most people looked away. They didn’t gawp or stare. She was feeling better getting out of the house regularly. As a teenager she’d never been the type to loll around in her room reading books or watching TV. Instead she’d been with her friends in town or at the beach or watching scary films in a large gang around someone’s house, sharing bottles of lemonade and tubes of Pringles. Her stomach growled at the thought and she wondered what Leo was buying. Just as she peered into the shop window, Buttons sniffing the door frame, he appeared, holding a blue carrier bag filled with a carton of milk and various bits she couldn’t make out.