It was May and the days had begun to beat to the blossoming pulse of spring. Already the turn of the season held the hope of what might turn into a long glorious summer.

Tom Sheldon was born on the Channel Island of Guernsey. He moved to England with his parents when his father sought a better financial future for his family. Tom's parents, James and Penny Sheldon, were late to marry and their twin children arrived when they were in their mid forties. Tom was just thirteen when they left Guernsey and the love for his island homeland had never quite left him. He missed the constant closeness of the sea and the warm summer days buoyant with holiday makers. He missed his school and his friends. Despite this, and now in his twenty third year, Tom had never returned to the island, not even for a holiday.

The turn of events now found Tom living in a single room over a bookshop in Stratford London. This is not quite where he expected to be after setting out on a philosophy degree. He majored in philosophy but also took pure and applied mathematics with economics as minors. Having battled through his finals and in possession of a shiny new BSC, he had somehow assumed that the world would be his oyster… It was not to be so.

Mathematics had always come easily to Tom but philosophy had been an interest for him since he discovered the satisfaction in probing the fundamental nature of reality. Studying the subject had seemed to be a compulsion for him. Sadly, he had never thought or been advised on how such a qualification might ultimately attract an employer.

Rocking up to, say, a Merchant Banker and asking what openings they have for a philosopher might be seen as a futile enterprise. To Tom's regret, the obvious conclusion was born out in reality. In moments of optimistic musing, he might, in self effacing humour, entertain the possibility of setting up as a freelance logician. A shop on the high street dispensing deductive logical arguments, guaranteed sound £10 each, two for £15, extra cogent premises sold by the dozen… On amused reflection, he thought probably not.

The prospect of finding employment on Guernsey also seemed illusory. There might possibly be one of the invading financial institutions that would take a risk on him with his grounding in mathematics and economics. There was also the fallback career of teaching that was still left hovering as a vague, yet less than optimal possibility. For now he was still of the opinion that the big city was where the opportunities lay; even if he had not quite been able to locate them yet.

Caught in a slowly developing depression over his waning options, Tom took to wandering the streets of Stratford in East London close to where he was living. It was on one of these aimless meanderings as the evening fell, that he found himself caught in an unexpected shower of soft rain.

Through the misty rain Tom heard the joyous sound of a blackbird's song. The bird's song seemed to kiss Tom's heart with a sudden sense of hope. He was drawn to follow the blackbird's voice as it sang from the distant trees. The song was somehow compelling and Tom tracked the still unseen bird as it led him up the rise of Brewhouse street until it came to rest near the bright window of a bookshop.

The bookshop hugged the north corner of Brewhouse Street and Tom thought that it might offer a brief refuge from the rain that was making the pavements glisten as they caught the scattered golden light from the shop's window.

The shop's sign read in large capitals 'B B'. Underneath in smaller lettering was 'Blackbird Books'. The brightly lit window display caught Tom's attention and apart from seeking a refuge from the rain, Tom thought that he might invest what little spare funds he had on something to read, a detective novel perhaps, or one of those absorbing historical fictions set in Tudor times.

On first entering Blackbird Books, Tom discovered it to be an unusually peaceful place. A handful of customers were browsing the shelves, no one appeared rushed or in any hurry to make a choice. It seemed just a nice place to spend a little time. Tom assumed that the elderly gentleman smiling by the counter was the owner. The elderly gentleman looked over the rim of his wire-framed glasses, his grey eyes lifted to Tom in greeting. His face was lit with a genuinely friendly smile and Tom had no option but to smile back.

"Take your time, have a good rummage through the shelves, no need to rush, no need to buy anything." The man said. "Unless there's something I can help you with."

"No, just something diverting to read."

"Well that's fine… I'm Henry, Henry Butterworth."

"Oh hello Henry, I'm Tom."

Henry was an avuncular figure, no longer young, Tom might have placed him in his seventies. The thing that Tom really noticed about Henry was an aura of simple kindness that hung over his comfortably stout frame.

In the end Tom came away with a Hilary Mantel novel and more importantly a newly discovered love for Blackbird Books.

Over the following days Tom became a regular visitor to the shop and Henry became a friend. A friend who had a gift to easily identify someone in need of a little help. He observed, in his astute fashion, that Tom was overeducated and unemployable. Tom had to agree, even if it was a temporary condition. He explained that he was surviving on handouts from his parents who had returned to Guernsey to live a semi-retired life and although modestly comfortable, were not in a financial position to support their son for much longer.

Tom had been living in a tawdry bed and breakfast at the time. His room was best described as adequate, the breakfasts less so and the money he was charged seemed an affront to decency. But short of running home to his parents, it was the best he could find.

Springing to the young man's aid, Henry offered him a job in the shop. It paid minimum wage but included the possession of the vacant upstairs room to live in. This was not entirely an altruistic move as Henry was beginning to feel his age and could make good use of a youthful pair of hands around the shop. It was not the first time that Henry's upstairs room had been offered as a salvation to someone in need and it would not be the last.

Henry made it absolutely clear to Tom that this was a temporary measure as he expected the young man to very quickly establish himself as some species of a successful 'mover and shaker'... once he had successfully forgotten all that philosophy nonsense. The words were spoken in jest but held a kernel of truth that Tom was reluctantly coming to accept. In the meantime, in recognition of Tom's qualifications, he was given sole charge of the shop's entire philosophy section… both books.

Tom had accepted the offer rather like a drowning man clutching at the slippery ropes of a life raft. He knew Henry's offer was, in large part, an act of charity but hoped someday to be able to pay Henry back for his kindness. For the moment, the offer was enough to allow his tentative survival to continue and give him time to better assess his dwindling options.

Tom was coming to the realisation that his parents, James and Penny, might be right and was slowly leaning towards seeking a position as a school teacher. He called his mother and told her about Henry's job and that for the moment he had a modest income.

"Well about time Tom, at least it's a start for you."

"Yes… look, I'm coming to think that you and Dad might be right about the teaching job idea."

"I think teaching would suit you perfectly Darling… have you thought of coming home and looking for a position on Guernsey?"

"It's not out of the question, Mum. I still think of Guernsey as my home. I still miss the place, but to be realistic, I'm more likely to find something here on the mainland."

"OK Tom… Now take care and you must promise to come over and see us soon."

He ended the call by sending his love to his father. Now that he had put the teaching option into words, The idea seemed to have coalesced into something more tangible, something that he might actually work towards… He decided to start looking for teaching vacancies in earnest over the next few weeks.

Moving into his room over the shop was a simple enough process. He had so little to bring: a couple of backpacks of clothes and an old seaman's wooden chest. The chest held more clothes and the entirety of his meagre possessions. Once he had heaved his belongings up the stairs, Tom sat in the armchair and let his eyes search the room. It was far from a palace but was clean and tidy. The floor was adorned with what appeared to be a new carpet. It would be more than fine for a while. Tom had access to the downstairs shower and toilet so his needs were all covered. In fact the little space seemed to offer Tom a feeling of welcome as if he had been there before and was returning to a place of familiar safety.

In one corner was a floor to ceiling cupboard, a place to hang his clothes. On the wall was an old mirror. The silvering was worn and the reflection appeared mottled and hazy as he stood before it. Peering into the mirror, he saw not just himself but a composite face. It was certainly his face but also the face of his twin sister Katie that he saw reflecting back at him. Now that he had let his hair grow out a little, his mottled, misty image looked even more like Katie.

He and Katie had been very close and when she died suddenly of meningitis at just sixteen, Tom had been distraught. He still wore her slender gold chain around his neck and had kept her favourite woollen sweater; he had it with him now, wrapped carefully in the wooden chest. On moments when she seemed to hover especially close to him, he would breathe in her scent which still clung to the woollen fibres. He might put the soft garment on and as the memory of her brought the prick of tears to his eyes, he would hug himself and rock gently as if his sister was still in his arms.

Tom's days spent working in the shop were happy and allowed a good deal of time for daydreaming. It was in this state of reverie that a shriek of tyres on the road outside the shop pulled him back into the present with a jolt. It seemed that a pedestrian had inadvisedly lunged across the road and an old Citroen 2CV, wobbling on its soft springs, had swerved violently to avoid a collision. The driver was an elderly woman, despite the warm day she was dressed in a heavy, fur collared coat that seemed to belong to a bygone age.

More by luck than skill, there had been no collision. The errant pedestrian, a middle aged man dressed in 'City Suit' and air of self-importance, hurried away with only a cursory look back and assertive thrust of his furled umbrella as if the whole incident had been the poor driver's fault.

In the passenger seat of the Citroen sat a girl. Her face, shrouded by a fall of auburn hair, had suddenly turned ashen. She looked left and right in panic clutching the window frame until the car came to a shuddering halt. For just an instant Tom saw her face. She seemed, maybe fifteen; just a school girl but the image of her face was imprinted on his mind. The assumption of her age was not to be the last mistake that Tom was destined to make about her.

A few days after the non-collision had faded into a vague memory, Sebastian Haywood entered the shop. Tom was in the process of unpacking a box of recently delivered best sellers in preparation for a new window display. He looked up as the old fashioned spring-bell announced that a customer had entered the shop. Before him Tom saw an old friend. A fellow pupil who had shared his formative years at school.

"Woody… Is that you?" Tom said as his mind dragged him back to those lost days at school. Days that always seem far more appealing under the rosy glow of hindsight.

He remembered a particular moment… It had been a bee-humming summer afternoon in the long grass that edged the sports field by the old white pavilion. It was cricket season and he and Sebastian had been waiting for their turn to bat. Tom could still recall the sharp scent of mown grass and linseed oil, the heat of theafternoon sun… and the kiss.

It was not a real kiss. The two boys had been wrestling as fifteen year old boys do. Sebastian was the bigger of the two and he had Tom caught in a headlock.

"Do you give up?... Come on Tom, I'm in danger of breaking your damn neck just surrender."

Tom would not admit defeat, he writhed but beyond resorting to punching, which was beyond a schoolboy's wrestling etiquette, he could not free himself. Suddenly Sebastian fell limp and released his grip. From behind Tom's back, both of them still in the grass, Sebastian leaned across and kissed Tom's neck, it was as lingering as it was unexpected. There had been a momentary shared glance then Sebastian rolled away laughing. The kiss was never spoken of. Tom knew that it had been nothing, but the memory was still there, all these years later, hiding among the synapses of his brain.

Tom stood up from his unboxing duties with an outstretched hand as Sebastian moved towards him beaming a smile.

"Tom… Tom Sheldon, haven't seen you since the sixth form. What are you doing here? I thought you were taking a degree, had your mind set on becoming a famous philosopher or something."

Sebastian took Tom's hand and shook it vigorously.

"Well yes, I had it all worked out… I put my naivety down to being a bookworm…"

"Yes you were rather a swat… even so we did have a good time together back then."

"Working here is just a temporary job until I get myself sorted." Tom added rather defensively.

"OK."

"So I got my degree and then spent half a year and way too much of my indulgent parent's money travelling Europe… Now I'm broke. So how about you?"

"Got into Real-Estate, there's a killing to be made in London if you have the right contacts."

"Right… didn't your elder sister go down a similar route?"

"Well yes… Charlotte… Actually she was my passport into the industry. She managed to wangle a partnership in Reid and Coverly… Now Coverly and Sheldon… you may have seen our 'For Sale' signs."

"Yes… maybe. I'm not really in the market for real estate at the minute."

"Ah no… So Charlotte invited me to join her… I started at the bottom and worked my way down." Sebastian laughed.

"You look to be doing OK."

"Well not bad… Look Tom, I'm having a birthday party next week. I'd be honoured if you'd come… It's just a few friends and family."

"I'd love to come Woody… Actually, what do they call you these days? Your old school nickname seems a bit… passé."

"Yeah no one's called me Woody since I was at school… Sebastian's fine."

"OK done… So Sebastian, you must have come here for a reason, can I sell you something?"

"Maybe you can... I met this girl… she's into poetry… you know, that mushy romantic stuff."

"And this girl is in desperate need of a gift?"

"Got it in one Tom."

"OK I think I can find you something… would she like modern stuff or the 19th century classics: Keats, Shelly, Byron and so on."

"I have no idea; what would you think?"

"I don't know the girl, but if she likes romantic stuff, I'm sure we can find something… let's go and see what the shelves hold. I don't suppose she'd like a copy of the 'Critique of Pure Reason'… a nice little love story by Emanual Kant."

'I… don't think so Tom."

"No it's just that I'm in charge of the philosophy section and the sales are currently a little slow." They laughed together just like they used to at school.

Sebastian had never been a literary guy, not academically inclined at all and he left school to join his sister in making money, as soon as he was able. After browsing the shelves, they eventually settled on 'Love Poems of Elizabeth Barrett Browning'. Without bothering to open the book, Sebastian suggested that the cover looked nice and pretty… Job done.

 

Finally the days rolled round to Sebastian's birthday party. Tom had told Henry about rediscovering his old friend and of the invitation. Henry could see Tom's obvious excitement. The young man he had first met seemed to have been rather disillusioned with life. This contact with an old friend, seemed from Henry's perspective, to be evidence that Tom was starting to burst out of his confining bubble, a re-engagement with the world and a step towards realising his potential.

Knowing that Tom had little money to spare, Henry offered him a bottle of Champagne to take as an appropriate gift. Tom protested at the overly generous gesture, but it was a half hearted protest, destined to fail from the first shake of Tom's head. In the end Tom gratefully capitulated to Henry's pressure to accept his gift of a gift.

Dressed in a newly acquired sports jacket and best jeans with a white shirt and the attractive silk tie that his mother had bought for him, Tom checked himself in the old mirror. He thought that he looked OK but through the mirror's haze, Katie was still there smiling sadly back at him. As his eyes misted, he wished… The philosopher in him knew that wishing for what is impossible is futile… but still he wished.

Tom spent too much of his money on a taxi which delivered him to Grosvenor Square. He arrived at Sebastian's place as the first edge of twilight had begun to leech the light from the sky. There had recently been a spell of settled weather and it felt that summer might not be far away. Once the diesel clatter of the taxi had faded, the evening felt hushed and still and through that stillness, he could hear the evocative sound of a blackbird singing from somewhere in the distance.

He stood at the foot of the stone steps and looked up at Sebastian's home. He compared what he saw with the single room in which he lived. There was no doubt that his old school friend had done well. He felt no envy for what Sebastian had achieved, just respect for his friend as he started the climb, taking the steps two at a time.

At the top he stood for a moment, turned back and looked across the park as the clear sky started to tint with pink. He was still faintly out of breath from his rapid ascent when his stab of the electric doorbell was answered by a heavily made up woman. At first sight, she seemed slightly delicate and burdened by an overabundance of jewellery.

"Come in… I'm Charlotte, you'll find the birthday boy in there somewhere."

She waved a bracelet jangling arm vaguely towards an open door at the end of the brightly lit passage.

"Are you Sebastian's sister?" Tom asked.

"Guilty as charged… Now let me guess… you must be his old school friend… Tom was it?"

"Tom, yes, hello… I got this for Sebastian."

Tom proffered his bottle of a sparkling vintage that was well beyond his current means and Charlotte took it and scanned the label.

Charlotte was dark and slim, with small bright eyes. Hair in a bun, she wore long dangling ear-rings that made her look rather distinguished and exotic. Tom knew that Charlotte was ten years older than Sebastian. But she looked younger than that. Her figure had held onto an almost teenage tautness. But beyond that she had an aura of friendliness that made you feel instantly at home in her presence.

"Wow… Dom Perignon. This must have cost you a fortune, darling." She said with a soft chuckle. "I'll put this aside and make sure Tom gets it and knows who brought it. This is simply too good to let the proles guzzle it. Now come inside Tom and make yourself at home."

Tom simply smiled and followed Charlotte into Sebastian's home.

Crossing the passage he entered the room where most of the guests seemed to be gathered. He imagined that it was the sitting room. There was a small balcony that overlooked the park but the view was starting to darken to smoky shadows and the lights of distant traffic.

Tom saw Sebastian holding court among a flutter of girls… Butterflies attracted to Sebastian's nectar. He assumed that the poetry girl was among them but could not readily identify her. The girls were mostly young and pretty and the gathering pack of men gave the impression of stalking hyenas sniffing out their prey while struggling to give the appearance of benign innocence.

There was music playing, not the hard pounding beat that you usually get at a party but something softer, more romantic. It was some acoustic guitar music playing covers of achingly familiar songs that you knew so well but could not quite name.

Tom noticed a couple wrapped in each other's arms pretending to dance. They hovered by the door to the fluorescently lit kitchen, hardly moving but rocking together and shuffling to the honeyed melody of the guitar. The girl had her cheek pressed against her partner's chest. They seemed oblivious of the rest of the mere mortals who shared the room but who were not quite so in love with being in love.

None of the party goers were familiar to Tom nor did any make any great impression on him except for one lovely face that seemed to shine out from the throng. Chatting with Charlotte was a young woman that Tom had seen before. It was the girl who had been in the old Citroen as it narrowly avoided a collision outside Blackbird Books. He looked at her for a long time but her eyes were elsewhere. It was obvious now that the young woman was no school girl.

Once Sebastian had spotted his old school friend he wove his way across the room and clasped hands with him.

"So glad you could make it Tom and thanks for the bubbly. Charlotte's put it away for later. So Tom, I'd like you to meet my cousin. I think you two will get on really well." He waved across the room and called out her name. "Alecia…"

The Citroen girl looked up at the sound of her voice. After Charlotte had drifted away, she had been talking in what seemed a rather shy manner to a tall blond haired girl who wore bright red lipstick. Alecia touched her arm in a gesture of friendship before turning from her and starting to weave her way across the room to where Sebastian and Tom were waiting.

Tom thought how small a world it really was. The girl that had captured his attention from nothing more than a passing glance, just happened to be Sebastian's cousin. Sebastian told him that she was twenty, not the fifteen he had first speculated on.

"Alecia, come and meet Tom. We were at school together back in the day."

Alecia closed the gap between them, moving with a graceful feline beauty. There was a smile on her face as she repeated Tom's name making the sound of it ring like a bell.

"Tom… Tom. Well, that's a lovely name. I hope you'll enjoy Sebastian's party."

Her examination of him was long and searching: his grey sports jacket, silk tie, hair in a short ponytail, trustworthy eyes.

Alecia could have been no more than five feet three or four tall. All of her height was supported by a slender, delicately feminine frame. She was dressed in a white silk blouse with a flowing skirt that was short enough to give a glimpse of her slender and shapely stockinged legs.

She stood on white stilettos which lifted her almost to Tom's height. Her auburn hair had been plaited and tied at the back with a red satin ribbon. The plait fell swinging down her back as she walked.

"I'm pleased to meet you Alecia." Tom said.

"Me too…" Her voice was soft and balanced just on the right side of shyness. "I should circulate but I'll catch up with you later, be sure to remind me if I forget… I probably won't though."

Smiling sweetly at him, she held her soft slender fingers for Tom to take. Her nails were of fashionable length and varnished a frosted pink colour. Her lipstick was a perfect match. She looked at Tom again through her long lashes, her eyes inquisitive as if searching for something. Then she smiled again before she turned away, with a lingering backward glance and took her cousin's arm.

Tom caught the drift of her perfume from the space which she had vacated and felt suddenly and unaccountably deprived of her presence. Throughout the evening, his eyes followed her and he noticed that more than once, Alecia turned away from her various conversations to catch a smiling glimpse of him across her shoulder.

It was inevitable that Alecia and Tom would eventually find themselves sharing a quiet corner together. Like floating flotsam, drawn by tidal forces beyond their control, they washed ashore together into a secluded alcove and sipped sparkling wine while smiling at each other like idiots.

"Sebastian tells me you're a fucking genius, his words. I never say 'fucking'.
There was a slightly wicked, slightly flirty smile on her lips that did not quite fit with the shyness that seemed to cloak her. "He tells me you know all about Nietzsche and arcane philosophy stuff like that."

"I did a little philosophy at Uni."

"Of course you did."

"Forgot most of it."

"Mm why don't I quite believe that?"

Tom shrugged and smiled.

"So, Tom, what is it that you do exactly?"

"By profession I'm a party hound."

"Well I absolutely know that's not true, you've been avoiding people all evening. You outdo me in the 'wallflower stakes'. It's why I felt compelled to make it my mission to come and rescue you."

"Oh, is that what happened?"

"Oh yes, I've hooked you Tom and reeled you in."

"And now you don't know whether to release me back into the wilds or eat me."

"Oh eat you I should think." Alecia laughed and took a card from her evening bag.

She handed it to him and kissed his cheek with her soft pink lips. Tom scanned the card; it simply said: 'Alecia Bonington, Willow Manor, Highgate.' There was a mobile number and email address.

"This is where I live, come to tea on Sunday… Please do, I'll be so sad if you can't make it… Shall we say about three."

"Is it just the two of us or…"

"Just you and me Tom… does that frighten you?"

"Oh no… Three on Sunday, sounds perfect. So Willow Manor… that sounds disturbingly grand."

"Once maybe… I live there with my Great Aunt Dorothy in splendid decadence."

"Decadence as in crumbling decay?"

"Just so… you'll see."

"I will, thank you, should I bring something?"

"Just yourself Tom, we can spend the afternoon together and investigate each other's intimate little secrets."

Tom could not imagine what secrets Alecia might be in possession of. He considered, however, that discovering what made the young woman tick would make an interesting research project.

As the party started to wind down and the guests began to evaporate into the silent, star speckled night that hung over Grosvenor Square, Alecia sought Tom out again.

She moved close to him, her taut body warm as she curved against him. Then she kissed him on the cheek once more as they stood in the evening air at the top of the steps. Through the darkness there was still the sound of a blackbird singing. The bird must have been in one of the plane trees that framed the avenue but could not be seen in the darkness. Its voice was clear and strong, holding the promise of the coming summer.

"Oh listen Tom, how lovely."

"Yes…"

"Look, I have to go… Three on Sunday… Please don't forget… I'll bake a cake for you."

She disappeared with a laugh as bright and soft as Christmas bells as she headed down the steps.

"Bye, Sebastian, bye Charlotte." She called into the vacant wake that coiled behind her.

Tom could hear the clatter of her heels reverberating on the stone stairs for what seemed like an eternity; but she was gone and Tom had never felt quite so alone… not since that terrible day when Katie had left him. But this was a different feeling: there was no aching sense of tragedy, but maybe there was a shiver of anticipation.

 

On Sunday, answering his summons, Tom arrived at Willow Manor on foot after crossing the city to Highgate by tube. The building stood on Marchant Avenue with huge iron gates leading along a gravelled drive to the house. He stood in awe of the building. In its day it would have been a splendid building but the passing decades had not been kind to its ivied stone walls.

Alecia greeted him by the broad, glazed entrance doors. Despite spring still having a firm grip on the season, she was wearing a summer dress that looked as if she had retrieved it from an expedition to the Fifties. It was no less lovely for that. Primrose yellow with white flowers, cut to reveal a modest glimpse of the rise of her breasts. Her hair hung loose across her shoulders and she had chosen to wear hardly any makeup.

"Come and help me make tea." She said and Tom followed her across the entrance down an Italian ceramic tiled corridor into the kitchen.

From some distant room came the recorded sound of an orchestra. Floating above the swelling sound, sang a violin solo. The Vaughan Williams' piece was so familiar to Tom; it was one of his father's favourite pieces.

"That's Aunt Dorothy test driving her ancient vinyl collection. She's out for the afternoon but has threatened to pop her head round the door on her way out."

"Should I be worried?"

"Hardly… Aunt Dorothy is a darling, pushing eighty but still as sharp as a tack."

The Vaughan Williams from upstairs had faded, leaving only the echo of Ascending Larks to soften the creaks and whispers of a decaying house.

There were footsteps and then the door to the kitchen opened a crack and a pink face peered round.

"Won't stop darlings… just off. You must be the nice Mr Sheldon that I've heard all about… so nice to have seen you. We will certainly meet again and soon, I hope… Alecia, darling I'm taking the Citroen, so don't go looking for it."

With that Great Aunt Dorothy disappeared.

There was a lemon drizzle cake displayed on the huge oak table with plates and cups and forks. Tom glanced around the large room. It spoke of an affluence that had faded long ago. One might easily imagine the kitchen in its hay day populated by a dozen household staff, busily preparing meals for innumerable guests.

The view from the expansive kitchen window was lovely, stretching across tree studded lawns to the parkland beyond the walls. The Old City landscape hung to the south under the pale, softly clouded, sky like a delicately painted watercolour.

"So just you and your Aunt in this huge place?"

"Daddy died of a heart attack when I was just 8. Mummy absconded about three years later."

As Alecia spoke about her parents, she managed to skirt round the edge of them as if delving too deeply was entering a mine-filled no man's land.

"Absconded… I'm sorry." Tom said.

"No need; Some man took her away, she occasionally makes an appearance… when she wants something. People say we look very alike."

"Then she must be very beautiful."

Alecia looked up at Tom. She pointed her fork at him.

"Now stop that."

"Sorry." Tom said, but of course he was not in the slightest bit sorry… nor, in truth, was Miss Bonington.

"Aunt Dorothy inherited the pile along with enough to keep her solvent for the rest of her days but there was no money for upkeep. I was lucky enough to be given a small allowance, which I subsidise by working part-time in a child care centre."

The water was boiling now, curling steam drifted up against the shafts of afternoon sun that slanted in through the window. Tom watched while, with delicate deliberate movements, Alecia made the tea.

"It's Earl Grey.' She said… "All that Aunt Dorothy keeps I'm afraid. If you'd rather have coffee… we have instant."

"No no Earl Grey is fine."

The cake was sliced and Tom's plate was filled with a generous piece.

"Come and sit by the window. The Kitchen is my favourite room. I often sit here just to lose myself in the view. Most of the house is out of use now, locked up to keep the decay at bay… out of sight out of mind."

"It's wonderful, this place puts my own humble room to shame."

"It might be wonderful if we could afford the maintenance costs. It needs a fortune spending on it and we no longer have a fortune."

"So was it a real Manor house?"

"No… Nothing quite so grand. My great great… lots of greats, grandfather built it in Victorian times. He was an early industrialist and made a fortune building railways or something. Successive generations have squandered the wealth. Just the house remains and it's more of a millstone than an asset."

"Might it be sold?"

"Aunt Dorothy still hangs onto delusions of grandeur; she imagines that a white knight might ride over the hill from Cheltenham or somewhere and save us… You don't happen to be a white knight do you Tom?"

"Sorry… I'm not even from Cheltenham."

Alecia smiled as she forked a large piece of cake into her mouth and chewed intently.

"So anything else I should know about Alecia Bonington?" Tom said.

"Oh yes heaps and heaps… if I ever decide to fully trust you, you'll eventually find out about my fractured psyche."

"You have a fractured psyche?"

Alecia smiled, her eyes holding Tom's for a moment as if she was deciding whether to answer the question or not… She let the decision hang.

"More cake?"

"Yes please," Tom said. "This is by far the best cake I've had all afternoon.

"Such praise."

The conversation managed to slide effortlessly from financial despair through fractured psyches to Tom's humble position in life.

Tom ate more cake and drank more Earl Grey. He found Alecia's cake to be really exquisite, light, sweet and tangy with citrus flavour. She took Tom's compliments on her baking skills with lowered lashes as if he had embarrassed her.

Tom found her to be an enigma in so many ways. Outspoken yet shy, intelligent yet self-effacing, beautiful yet unaware of the fact and adorable… Well, he could find no contradiction there.

As the evening started to fall, a furtive glance at Tom's watch suggested that it was time to leave.

"Would you like to see me again?... After discovering my penury?" Alecia asked.

The prospect of not seeing Alecia again suddenly shocked Tom. He felt the possibility hit him like a blow to the chest.

"Of course I want to see you again."

Alecia seemed to brighten at the reply. She was unable to contain her smile which blossomed like an opening rose.

"Oh that's … you know, absolutely wonderful. I'm kind of busy most of the week but would you be free next Friday evening?"

"I can make myself free."

"Of course you can." She said as her voice hung on the rim of laughter.

"So Tom, do you know Constantine's restaurant?"

"At Richmond by the river?"

"Yes… It's nice there… sort of intimate, nice views of the river. Shall I book a table for next Friday evening?"

"Yes, but I'll pay." Tom said.

"I have my modest allowance, I can still afford to buy a dear friend dinner from time to time. Be ready by seven and I'll pick you up in the family antique Citroen. Dress casual, jeans and a jacket will be fine. As long as the bill is settled, the staff at Constantine's are not precious about dress codes."

"OK… You have my address?"

"It only took a brief twist of my thumbscrews to get cousin Sebastian to reveal all there is to know about you… Including the location of your Bookshop lair."

"You have thumbscrews?"

"Doesn't every girl?"

For Tom to hear that Alecia was sufficiently interested in him to interrogate her cousin on the matter was not unwelcome information. Equally Alecia's invitation was one that Tom was both powerless and unwilling to dismiss. The prospect of the dinner date hung, eagerly anticipated, over Tom's week like the brightest of stars.

True to her word, Alecia arrived outside BBs just two minutes after seven on the following Friday. She saw him watching for her arrival through the window of the upstairs room and she raised her hand to him with that incendiary smile of hers lighting up her face.

Alecia sat in the antediluvian 2CV while Tom ran down to meet her. He thought that he must have looked as eager as a flustered schoolgirl on her first date as he settled into the passenger seat next to her. She leaned across and pecked Tom's cheek.

"Have you missed me sweetheart… I expect you have."

"Maybe a little."

Only a little… I can see I'll have to start your education in the arts of flirting."

"Oh is that what I was doing?"

Alecia laughed.

"Apparently not." She said as she engaged a gear, seemingly at random, and edged jerkily away from the curb with noticeable snarling clutch slip.

Alecia piloted her car towards Richmond in a relaxed fashion, well below the speed limit, which rather suited Tom as he was still to be convinced of her driving prowess. With the window flaps hinged open, the evening air swirled around the cabin, teasing Alecia's hair so that she had to keep lifting it from her face.

The restaurant was a little out of Town and nestled in a grove of plane trees with a lovely view of the river. The spring evening was still warm as the car was edged carefully into a vacant parking space. Alecia was dressed in fashion jeans and a white cotton top with a lightweight beige jacket. She wore black calf length stiletto boots. Alecia took Toms' fingers and they strolled hand in hand from the carpark.

Entering through the heavy oak doors, they found themselves immersed into a serene atmosphere of old word charm. The couple were led to their table. They ate steak with red wine and then a creamy chocolate dessert followed by strong coffee.

When the meal was over they stepped out into the night air and walked along the river's edge, following the old tow path by the line of willows that seemed to be bursting into green even under the silver moonlight. At first they walked side by side like strangers who just happened to be going the same way. Then Alecia took Tom's arm and pulled herself close to him.

"Tonight was lovely." Alecia said.

"It was." Tom agreed.

In the long pale twilight hung green with young leaves and new grass they could hear the sweet hopeful singing of thrushes that carried on into darkness. That spring night was beautiful, silent and filled with peace but as they walked following the bend of the river, the warmth began seeping away. A light mist was rising over the water now hiding the reflected starlight.

"We should be getting back to the car… Tom, will you show me the room where you live?"

"Of course but be prepared to be underwhelmed; there's no room to swing a cat."

"That's OK Tom, I hardly ever feel the need to swing cats."

 

Alecia offered to let Tom drive back. If he had known how rarely she trusted anyone to drive the old family car he might have been deeply flattered. She gave a brief explanation for her offer:

"These boots are very… well sexy but they're almost impossible to dive safely in… you might have noticed."

"Yes, I find both of your propositions to be valid and your conclusion sound."

"So you're saying that you think my boots are sexy but my driving is terrible… Should I be flattered or cross?"

"I would never want to make you cross."

Alecia playfully punched Tom's arm and it did not hurt at all. Quite the contrary. Tom drove the softly sprung car slowly back to Stratford. Away from the river mist, the evening was clear, starlit and very still as he stopped at the side of the road a little way from the shop. The street was softly lit but the bookshop display window shone its familiar lozenge of light across the road like a patch of gold.

They walked the short distance to Blackbird Books and without a word spoken between them, Alecia followed Tom up the side stairs to his room. The room was verging on being monk-cell meagre. Only the essentials: A sofa-bed, an armchair, a small desk adorned with a reading lamp. In the corner was a tiny sink, an electric kettle and luxury of luxuries, a battered microwave oven.

For Tom, it was just a bolt hole, a place to find his feet. The window looked out over the street of parked cars and wind-blown litter. Alicia took the armchair and sat demurely. Tom stood by the window feeling that a trace of shyness had descended between them.

"Mm… Well this is a nice place." Alecia said.

"I call it 'poverty chic'… it's the new thing."

When Alecia laughed with a flash of white teeth and wrinkle of her nose, the shyness evaporated.

"Would you like coffee, or wine, I think there's a little Ausy red somewhere?"

"Better not Tom, I really can't stay… I was just curious to see your room… In fact I should be going."

She stood and Tom turned from the window.

"Parting is such sweet sorrow." Tom said.

"That I shall say good night till it be morrow." Alecia echoed.

"Ah so you know Romeo and Juliette. I'm impressed."

"We did it for GCSE… I once took the part of Romeo in the school play." Alecia smiled as she opened the door and stepped into the darkness of the stairwell. Tom followed her and they stood together in the silence.

"Won't you kiss me goodnight?" Alecia said and Tom moved close and drew Alecia against his chest. He brushed his lips timidly against her mouth as the lights from a passing car lit up the stairwell. For a second or two Alecia held onto Tom with her slender fingers gripping the collar of his jacket, then whispering delicately against his ear she said so softly that Tom had to strain to hear:

"I think you can do better than that Tom – try again."

Alecia leaned into Tom's embrace and in the darkness found his lips and they kissed in the way she wanted. When they broke for air, they walked down to the car hand in hand.

"Good night, sweet Prince" she whispered. "It's been lovely; we must do it again… will you call me?"

"I'll think about it." Tom said and Alecia poked his chest with a sharp finger before sliding into the Citroen and chugging away across London.

Tom was already thinking about 'it' as he watched the red lights of the car wink away as it crested the rise in the road.

By negotiation Henry had agreed to Tom having Sunday and Monday off. Tom knew that Alecia worked mornings Monday to Friday at the Acorn Daycare Centre, this left little overlap other than Sundays and evenings when they could easily get together.

The next day Tom was busy in the shop. Henry had suffered one of his dizzy spells which he claimed was nothing to be concerned about but did mean that he leaned heavily on Tom to run the shop. The dizzy spells never lasted long and Henry was back on deck by the afternoon. Tom took a moment to call Alecia. He proposed that, assuming the Citroen was free, they might take a trip to the coast the next day. 'Southend perhaps.' He suggested. It was a place he had never visited though the call of the sea had echoes of his precious island.

"Oh yes Tom, I haven't been there for years… I could assemble a picnic, it would be fun."

"Good, I'll fill the beast with petrol, you can provide lunch." Tom suggested.

"OK… What time had you in mind for this master plan?"

"Well an early start is never a bad idea."

"Mm… I usually sleep late on Sundays."

"But usually you are not taking me to the seaside."

"That's true, I'll pick you up at nine."

It was nine thirty before Alecia arrived and Tom had spent the last forty minutes checking his watch and pacing up and down in front of his window. He skipped down the stairs with a sense of relief washing over him as he saw her car come to rest in front of the shop. The shop's Sunday trading was midday to five and Henry had not yet arrived from his Wood Green home. Tom made sure that the building was secure before sliding into the car beside Alecia.

"Sorry I'm late Tom… I did not oversleep… Siena, my mother descended on us unexpectedly last evening."

"Oh… Is that a good or a bad thing?"

"The appearance of my mother is never a good thing, Tom… it usually means that she wants something… Usually money."

"OK I don't want to pry but if you'd like to unburden yourself…"

"She's got it into her head that she's due an inheritance, thinks Willow Manor should be sold before it finally falls over."

"Does she have a case?"

"Not really… Daddy left the property to Aunt Dorothy in his will; this was well before my mother had run off with another man. I imagine a clever lawyer might be able to make a case in favour of my mother… They were never actually divorced."

"That sounds awkward."

"Let's try not to let it spoil our day."

They drove into Essex following the rising sun towards the Thames estuary. Southend was not yet in full season and many of the attractions were still closed but the day was fine with just a little wind coming from the east. It was warm in the sun which kept peering from behind the light scattering of soft clouds. They walked arm in arm along the pier and then down to the pebbly sand beach with the brisk sea air filling their lungs with briney freshness.

Back at the car, they collected the picnic hamper and a large sun umbrella which would do service as a windbreak. They clambered over the sand hauling their paraphernalia down to what, they hoped, might be a sheltered spot on the beach. The sunlight sliced through the waves, the light flashing through the water turning it a translucent green. There were few beach goers this early in the season and the couple found themselves pleasantly alone on their little patch of Southend beach.

Alecia spread a large blanket on the sand and opened her picnic basket while Tom dug the brightly patterned beach umbrella into the sand. They drank thermos coffee and ate tuna salad and ripped chunks of baguette spread thickly with pâté. To finish, Alecia had made little apple tarts thick with whipped cream.

"That was lovely." Tom said and Alecia stretched her body against him and allowed herself to be kissed.

"Tom…" Alecia said, her voice thin and trembling. She took his hand. "I tried not to, tried so hard, but I think I've fallen in love with you."

"I've been in love with you since that moment we met at Sebastian's party. So why did you try not to fall in love with me? I don't understand."

"There's something I need to tell you, something I should have told you long ago."

"Then tell me; it can't be so bad."

"Tomorrow… I'll tell you tomorrow. I can't allow anything to spoil our lovely day."

But her ominous words had already cast a shadow over the day and Alecia knew it as her eyes flooded and the gulls called and wheeled white against the blue sky.

 

Back in his room, Tom was still troubled by Alecia's words… something that she had to tell him… something that might spoil his day. Despite that slightly troubling cloud, he felt that the day had been wonderful. He was beginning to see that any time spent with Alecia was wonderful by its very nature. His phone had been turned off during the day and he checked to see if there were any messages… maybe something from Alecia sent since they had parted. He hoped there might be.

There was something but it was from the other woman in his life: his mother. She had sent him a text asking that he call her. It was 'Something important.'

"Mum, hello. It's Tom. You wanted me to call you."

"I did… Listen Darling, nothing for you to worry about; it might even be good news. I've heard about a possible teaching post here on Guernsey."

"OK , that's interesting, tell me more."

"Well, I think you know Jill Le Prevost, we play bowls together from time to time at the St. Sampson's club."

"Ah yes… I think I know who you mean"

"So her husband Geoffrey is the school secretary at Saumarez College. I often talk to her about you and she tells me that the College will have a vacancy for a mathematics teacher after the Summer holidays. Seems there's to be a retirement at the end of the school year. The position has not yet been advertised as the vacancy is still a fair way off but if you were to make enquiries… who knows what might come of it. No pressure darling, I know you have your own life to live, but I 'd love for you to come home to Guernsey to live… I know your father would too."

"So, Saumarez College, that's a private school isn't it?"

"It is… lots of posh kids with rich parents. I imagine the school will be nicely endowed… their teacher salaries might reflect that too.."

"OK, so should I call the school, do you think?"

"It's not urgent… I'll have another word with Jill about that and get back to you. I suspect that a formal letter might be the best approach. You can take your time composing it and lay out your qualifications and your interest in maths and so on. Being a Guernsey man might also be seen as a plus."

"OK, I'll put my mind to the construction of a letter… By the way, different subject, but you might like to know that I've met this rather nice girl."

"Oh really that's lovely Tom… So tell me about her."

"Well she's gorgeous, just a little younger than me. She works with young children at a day care centre and she lives in a huge Manor house."

"A Manor house?"

"Well yes it's not quite as good as it sounds… Her family used to be wealthy but not any more."

"OK… So are you serious about her… I mean, long term girlfriend or might it be wedding- bells serious."

"Oh Mum... really… It's far too early for that, but I'm pretty sure that I can admit to being in love with her. She told me today that she feels the same about me…. We went to Southend for the day, had a picnic on the beach. To be honest Mum, my feelings for her are quite intense."

"Well it all sounds wonderful, you must try to bring her over so that we can meet her… What's this gorgeous girl's name?"

"She's called Alecia."

"That's such a charming name, I can't wait to see her… A photo would be nice."

"I'll email you one."

The call ended with Tom feeling uplifted and he spent the evening composing various versions of application letters for Saumarez College.

The following day was Tom's day off and, determined to find out, face to face, what Alecia needed to tell him, he made his way to Willow Manor at around lunchtime. He expected her to be returning home at that time after her morning at the day care centre. It was twelve thirty when he walked along the tree-lined Marchant Avenue. He had just reached the old iron gates of the Manor when he caught a glimpse of Alecia in the distance.

She was walking away from the Manor, and he assumed that she had just left there but could not imagine where she might be going. By the time he had crossed the traffic she was disappearing towards the old church that stood among the swaying chestnut trees near the corner of Vincent Street.

Tom thought there was something a little odd about Alecia. She was wearing something he had not seen her in before; a pale grey suit adorned with a long brightly coloured silk scarf that rose in the air with each step. The suit somehow made her look older, her shoulders seemed to sag as if the weight of the world was carried on them. She had a wheeled suitcase that she dragged along the footpath behind her. Tom went after her calling her name.

"Alecia!" By the time he got round to the church she was just passing the last corner buttress of the church's southern end.

"Alecia." He called again as his pace quickened into a jog. It was not until he got round the corner, running to catch her up, that she stopped and waited. As she turned to face him, Tom could see now that the woman was not Alecia at all.

For what seemed an age Tom stood painfully embarrassed staring at the woman in her floating scarf. She was carrying a large black shoulder bag, her hand was still clasping the handle of her suitcase.. Tom thought that he must have looked incredibly, idiotic.

"I'm sorry… I thought."

"It's alright, people say we look alike… I'm Siena Bonington; Alecia's mother. Might you be Tom?"

"Yes Tom Standish… how?"

"How do I know about you… Well Dorothy has filled me in on your 'attentiveness' towards Alecia and then I had a little conversation with her after she got back from your trip to Southend."

"I see, I'm so sorry to have chased you down like that, you must have been alarmed."

"It takes more than being chased by a handsome young man to alarm me, Darling. But if you'd really like to apologise properly you might want to take me for a drink somewhere. In fact, I have been thinking that it might be appropriate to seek you out and have a word."

"A word… Really?" Tom wondered what Mrs Bonington might have to say to him. "Well in that case, Mrs Bonington we could walk on a little. I seem to remember there's a pub not far away… Are you staying at the Manor?"

"Call me Siena and, to answer your question, no. In fact I have been ejected. I did manage to spend the night there under sufferance. I'm afraid I'm 'persona non grata' at Willow Manor as far as Dorothy is concerned… All I did was suggest that she should put the place on the market and give me my share before I get too old to enjoy it."

"I see."

Tom was rather relieved to discover that the woman he had been chasing was not Alecia. He had harboured disturbing thoughts that she might have changed her mind about him and was running away to places unknown in order to avoid him.

"Now Tom, don't look so shocked. A woman of a certain age who finds herself alone in the world, has to seek out her opportunities where they lay."

"I suppose I can see that, Siena. So let me take your suitcase and we'll go and find that drink. If I remember correctly, the pub is not too far away."

"You're quite correct Tom; the Duke of Wellington is where I was heading. From there, once I've quenched my thirst, I'll find a taxi to take me to the station… unless you happen to have a car that is."

"I'm sorry my funds don't stretch that far."

"No, I understand that you live over a bookshop."

Siena ran her eyes over him, there was a slightly disparaging expression on her face as if she thought he might not be quite suitable for her daughter.

"I have prospects…" Tom said. He regretted the words as soon as they had left his lips.

"Yes we all have those darling… Now that drink."

The afternoon was starting to fill with spring warmth when they finally arrived at the Duke. They avoided the public bar and went into the lounge. The decor was an ugly rendition of Mock-Tudor with exposed beams and a large open fireplace. Logs were laid but there was no flicker of flame. Siena settled into a leather chair with a sigh, took off her jacket and laid it across the back of her chair. Tom brought the whiskey she had asked for and sat, with his beer, facing her across the table.

It was then that he saw how similar and yet how different she looked to Alecia. They shared the same hair colour. The shape of her face was the same but the years had started to make Siena's cheeks droop. Her eyes could have been Alecia's, bright and translucent, seeming to hint at a deeply reflective mind. But Siena's mouth was not Alecia's. There was a cruelty hiding in her smile, a tightness and thinness of her lips. Knowing Alecia's age and that her mother had given birth while still young, he thought she must only be about forty but looked ten years older as if she had led a withering life.

She downed her drink in a single gulp and pushed the glass towards Tom.

"Make it a double this time Darling."

Tom returned with Siena's glass recharged.

"You find Alecia pretty?"

"Well of course."

"I used to be pretty when I was young… don't look astonished Tom, it's quite true. I had to fight off the admirers."

"You're still a handsome woman." Tom said. "You have to be if I could mistake you for Alecia."

"Thank you Tom… I can see why Alecia is so besotted by you."

"So you wanted to have a word."

"It gives me no pleasure to have to do this… I told Alecia that she had to confide in you and that if she didn't then… I would."

"So just what does she need to confide in me… just what is this awful secret?"

"I talked to Alecia after your day out and she confessed that she still had not found the courage to tell you her truth, so I will… My pretty daughter Alecia is not quite what she seems."

"In what way?"

"When my baby was born we called him Oliver Bonington. Yes Tom, my pretty little Alecia was born a boy."

 

Tom's head swam. There was nothing remotely about Alecia that suggested that she might once have been a boy.

"That can't be true." Tom said.

"I'm not used to being called a liar Tom."

"No I'm sorry I didn't intend to imply…"

"No well… I never really wanted children but when Oliver came, he was my joy… at least at first. Then he started with all his nonsense, saying that he felt that he was really a girl. I assumed it was just a phase he was going through. It got worse after Oliver's father died. Worse to the stage that I simply couldn't cope with his constant whining about it."

"Go on." Tom said.

"Around that time I met an absolutely dazzling man… Charles. He promised me the Earth, offered to take me away to tour Europe and to settle with him in the South of France. So I left Oliver with Dorothy on the assumption that she would be able to do what I couldn't… straighten the boy out, get him through his confusion, show him that he was destined to become a man. Dorothy had always got on well with him and Oliver seemed to take more notice of her than he did of me. I was away for… too many years. When I got back, keen to see Oliver again, I was horrified to discover that Dorothy had effectively murdered my son."

Tom stared at the woman. She seemed to be totally self centred with no compassion for or understanding of her child. Anger at her started to build through his dazed mind.

"So you ignored your son, had no contact with him for years?"

"You make me sound terrible; Look, I was infatuated with Charles… our life together was a whirlwind… the best time of my life. I was left with little time to think about my past."

"What became of this man?"

"Oh the same old story… He eventually became tired of me and found someone younger and prettier. He left me in Marseille with a handful of euros and a plane ticket to Heathrow. When I got home I was devastated to discover what Dorothy had done to Oliver. You think she might have made the effort to keep in touch with me but instead they gave him drugs to stop his puberty and then as he got older more chemicals to turn him into a parody of a woman… and then the despicable surgery that I can't even begin to think about."

Tom locked eyes with the woman, the more she said the less he could understand her.

"Your child, son or daughter is simply a delightful person, worthy of love and understanding, can't you see that?"

"You're quite wrong Tom. Can't you see that what I've said has saved you. You're a handsome young man, you will want a family… Alecia can't give you children. Better you should know the disgusting truth before it's too late."

"There's only one thing I need to know from you Mrs Bonington… just what is your motivation for spewing out all this hatred?"

Dorothy sat glaring at him, her growing anger seemed impatient to find its wings.

"My hatred !… They threw me out of Willow Manor, told me I wouldn't get a penny… Well two can play the game of ruining lives. If I can't be happy then I don't see why my crossdressing freak of a son should."

Tom stood, his beer untouched. He resisted the overwhelming urge to pour the contents of his glass over the woman's head and left her without another word.

Tom marched away blind with anger, not knowing where he was going, not caring. It was maybe half an hour before he came to his senses and turned back heading up the hill towards the Manor. He tried Alecia's number but it just went to voicemail. He left a message for her to call him. There had been no sight of Alecia on his way up the hill and arriving at the heavy gates, he pushed them open and walked up the driveway. There standing on the steps he saw Aunt Dorothy looking anxious.

"Tom, my dear boy…I knew you'd come." She held out her arms to him.

"What is it? Where's Alecia?" Tom said.

Dorothy wrapped her arms around Tom and then taking his arm led him into the house.

"Alecia got back from her morning job at the usual time. She was making herself a sandwich when a call came from her mother. From what I understand, she was calling from a pub. I was with Alecia at the time and saw the effect Siena's words had on her. I couldn't hear everything, but I got the jist of what was said… I'm afraid it was a barrage of anger… lies and anger from Siena. When the call ended, Alecia told me what her mother had said."

"So what did Siena actually say to Alecia?"

"She said that she'd been at the pub with you and had told you about Alecia's transition… I think she called it a 'mutilation'. She told her own child that you were horrified and disgusted… That you never wanted to see poor Alecia again. I could not believe that you would have said that, but Alecia's heart seemed broken by her mother's words.."

"What that vile woman told Alecia was totally untrue. The only thing I found disgusting was Mrs Bonington."

"I guessed so when I saw you coming up the drive."

"So where is Alecia now? I need to put her mind at rest."

"She's gone, Tom. The poor child has been through an enormous series of upheavals in her short life and it has left her emotionally fragile… I think her mother's words were enough to convince her that she could never be loved, and worst of all that you had rejected her in some form of disgust."

"Never, never that… I love Alecia. What I've learned today has done nothing to change that."

"You're a good man Tom; Alecia needs someone like you… No, not someone like you, she needs you Tom."

"And I need her."

"After the phone call, sobbing her poor heart out, Alecia threw some clothes into a bag, gave me a tearful hug and ran from the house. I have no idea where she's gone. She's not answering her phone."

"I know, I tried to call her just a few minutes ago… We must find her, where might she have gone?"

"I don't know, she makes a great display of being gregarious but in all honesty, it's just an act; she has very few friends. I think she finds it hard to trust people. She's close to Sebastian and Charlotte but I've already called both of them, neither of them know anything."

"You don't think that she might do something…. Silly."

"I pray not… before we started on her transition, she became quite depressed for a while… stopped eating properly; almost as if she had lost interest in life."

"Should we call the police?"

"I think the police would be unimpressed by a missing person report after just a few hours."

"No you're right… But I can't just sit and do nothing… I'll walk the streets and see if I can find her."

"I think it's unlikely that you'll spot her but I can see that you're desperate to do something. Let's take the car, I'll come with you."

So together, they drove across London until the light faded; it had been a gesture with little expectation of success. They went back to the Manor and Dorothy made them something to eat. She invited Tom to stay the night but he was expected in the shop in the morning and declined the kind offer. In the heavy darkness he made his way by tube and bus to Stratford and his little room. The room had not changed but somehow it felt smaller, less welcoming.

Sitting in the quiet, with his eyes moist with tears, he told his missing twin Katie all about Alecia. How he loved her. How he missed her.

Then he called his mother, the need to hear her friendly voice was palpable. He told her that Alecia had gone missing… he told her why and was relieved when she took the information of Alecia's transition as he knew she would.

"Tom darling… I have seen the photo you sent me of Alecia. There's no doubt in my mind that she's no more a man than I am… no matter how she was identified when she came into the world. When you find her, and you will Tom, you must bring her home to Guernsey so that I can wrap my arms around her and let her feel my love. It will be a mother's love, not what she got from Siena Bonington. I can't understand why some people are so frightened of differences; we are all just people at heart. In my ideal world Tom, there would be no place for hatred over such things. I think maybe Alecia's mother should be pitied, not despised."

"You're an absolute gem Mum."

"Yes I know…" She laughed. "Just one more thing… I hear from Jill Le Prevost that the school would like to hear from you. Send the letter that we talked about. Apparently an email will be acceptable; it seems that Saumarez College has actually entered the 21st century… I'll text you their email address."

"OK I've got a letter mapped out, it will take my mind off Alecia to concentrate on finishing it off… Love you."

The next day Tom was back in the shop but his mind was not on the work. He had finished his application letter for Saumarez College and sent it off first thing in the morning. He discussed this and Alecia's disappearance with Henry who was his usual supportive self but could offer no suggestions on how they might find the missing girl. He told Tom that if his application was successful he would miss him at the shop but would be overjoyed that his life was getting back on track.

Days passed with nothing from Alecia, after a week, Dorothy finally called the police. They came to talk with her and after listening to her concerns suggested that it was not unusual for a young adult to 'go missing' for a week or two. Dorothy called Tom at work to give him the news:

"Tom, the police have checked hospital admissions without success but have put her on the missing person's list. They consider her to be a grown woman and don't seem overly alarmed that she has decided to drop out of sight for a while. They told me that it's a surprisingly common thing for a family member to absent themselves after some trauma.. I'm supposed to call back in another week or so if I don't hear anything… So no real help there."

"I thought the police might take this more seriously, but at least we can take comfort that she's not been involved in an accident… I feel so useless, I feel I should be out there doing something… but what?"

"I feel the same, Tom. I keep trying her phone, feels like I've sent her a hundred messages."

"Me too… Look thanks for the information aunt Dorothy; I should be getting back to my job. I'll be in touch soon."

The passing days of panicked silence turned into weeks of despair until a gnawing depression gripped Tom. Then a certainty that he would never see Alecia again finally fell over him. He had lost Katie and now he had lost Alecia… it seemed to him, in his sadness, that love was as much a curse as a joy.

Some brighter news came in the form of an invitation to attend an interview at Saumarez College. He called his mother with the news.

"That's wonderful news darling. I suppose there's still nothing from Alecia."

"No, she's disappeared off the face of the Earth. It's hard to admit but I'm almost coming to terms with the fact that I'll never see her again."

"Don't lose heart Tom…. Have the police told you anything?"

"Only that there's no news… nothing bad but nothing good either. Mum, I know Alecia, she wouldn't abandon me and Dorothy without a word. Whatever happened to her can't be good."

"Look, you're coming over to Guernsey for your interview… Why not finish up at the shop and stay with us for a while. You can have a holiday over the summer and get yourself ready for the new school term. My little grapevine suggests that you should expect good news on the teaching front, as long as you don't turn up looking like a manic depressive."

"I'm holding it together Mum, I'll do fine on the interview. My suffering is deep inside, hidden from public scrutiny. I have to admit that a change of scenery would be welcome… it's just…"

"Go on darling."

"It's just that leaving London and fleeing to Guernsey seems like finally closing the door on Alecia; I'm not ready for that yet… Not anywhere close."

"There's no need to give up on Alecia just because you'll be on Guernsey. I get the feeling that you two will be together again sooner than you think… Love always finds a way."

"Thanks Mum…"

Tom spoke to Henry and told him of his decision to return to Guernsey where there might be a teaching job waiting.

"I'm sorry to leave you so suddenly Henry after all your kindness."

"Tom, it has been my pleasure to have you with me in the shop; I wish you all the best for a bright future... you and Alecia when you find her again. Now don't worry about me. I have the feeling that another down at heel soul will find their way here any minute."

Tom smiled at his friend. He would never forget the kindness that Henry had shown him.

 

Tom's flight to Guernsey came just two days later after securing an appointment with the school's headmaster. His parents came to meet him at the airport and he soon found himself in St Sampsons. When they had returned to Guernsey, his parents had bought a modest but comfortable small place overlooking Delancey Park.

Once home Tom looked across the park to the blue ribbon of sea and caught a glimpse of the old Martello tower that had been built to defend against Napoleon. No attack had ever come from him, unlike the war when his homeland had been invaded by the German army. Even his parents were too young to remember those days but the horror of the invasion still remained etched on the Island's collective psyche.

Penny had made the spare room comfortable for her son. It was a small room but caught the golden shafts of morning sun. It was a place that she had liked to sit and read or sew. A place to think of her absent children. But now one of them had returned to her, if only for a while. It was a room better used by her son, she thought. Furnished with the basics, she and James had assembled a single bed and sufficient storage space for Tom's immediate needs. The window overlooked the garden with its colourful freesias and roses that were planted in profusion down by the apple trees that framed the bottom of the garden. The fallen spring apple blossom had already given way to small swelling fruit that seemed filled with promise.

Tom had been a little nervous when the morning of his appointment finally arrived but he found the process to be an amicable affair. Saumarez College seemed desperate to find a junior master for the mathematic's department and his interview seemed to Tom to be little more than a formality. He had sufficiently impressed the headmaster Michael Le Page that they had agreed a respectable salary with only a majority vote by the school's Board of Governors needed to confirm Tom's appointment.

He went home with the good news. There were just two weeks of the school term left before the summer holiday, so two months of summer freedom stretched its welcome before Tom. He borrowed his mother's old bike and after pumping up the soft tyres, rode up to L'Ancresse and walked along the sandy beach, breathing in the air of his homeland. He knew now that this was where he belonged. This was the place that Katie would choose to roam if she were able and this was the place he longed to bring Alecia. Alone on the beach he lifted his face to the sky and called out:

"Katie… are you there?… "

The only answer came from a lone gull as it wheeled high in the sky and gave voice to its plaintive call.

"Katie… if you can hear me, find Alecia for me."

But there was no reply, of course not, just an empty aching hole in his heart for both of them.

Sticks and stones may break your bones but words… can crush the life out of you.

When Alecia took the phone call from her mother she had been savagely crushed. She knew that her mother despised the transition that she had undergone but hoped that maybe there might be just a little glimmer of love left for her. Now she knew the truth.

Alecia had lived most of her life without Siena Bonington's presence in her life. That vacuum had been filled by her great aunt and Alecia could feel no regret over that. The sudden realisation that her mother despised her as a person was painful but even that was something she could live with. What crushed her without mercy was to discover that her mother had revealed her most intimate truth to Tom without even consulting her.

She had desperately wanted to tell Tom the truth in her own time, in a delicate, loving way that she hoped he would accept. He had already revealed himself to be kind and nonjudgmental, a man with a solid core of fundamental compassion, a man who had already expressed his love for her. Alecia just needed time to unfold her story and Siena had ripped away that opportunity.

Her feelings for Tom, the love that had come so strongly, so suddenly from nowhere, transcended anything she had known before. He had become her reason to hope for a bright future. At last she had found someone, that she dared hope to build a future with.

To hear that Tom had rejected her, never wanting to see her again, made Alecia's insides twist in knotted torture. Her eyes were streaming as she ran to her room following her mother's call. She had suddenly been cast into a world of anguish.

Gasping for breath as a sense of panic gripped her tightly, she felt that her only escape was to run far away. There was no plan, no logic in her racing mind as Alecia threw a few possessions into her backpack, gave her aunt, the only one that she could now trust, a tearful crushing hug and ran from the Manor. Slithering down the gravel driveway she tumbled onto Marchant Avenue. The sun was in her wet eyes, the sound of traffic in her ears but she was oblivious to everything as she ran.

Eventually she found herself down by the river not really knowing how she had got there. The sun was already dipping low in the sky when a sort of empty calmness came to her.

With St Paul's to her back she edged onto the Millennium Bridge. Her eyes scanned across the river. To her left, she could see Blackfriars Bridge and in the distance The Shard stabbing up towards the drifting cloud. Alecia looked up to see a flight of cloud-grey pigeons crossing over the river from the town. Then as she leaned against the rail once more she heard the familiar jingle of her phone. The phone had rung often over the last hours but her mind had been shut to its demand to be answered. Now as she finally pulled the phone from her jean's pocket, she found it warm in her fingers. The warmth lasted just a few seconds before it slipped from her fingers and tumbled, as if in slow motion, into the river. The loss of her phone seemed so unimportant, a trivial irrelevance now that her life had been left without meaning.

Alecia looked down at the grey water as it slid away following its timeless flow. As the phone sank down towards the dark river mud, Alecia watched the ripples spread. She lifted herself onto the rail and leaned over. The river seemed to be calling to her, inviting her to join it in an eternal embrace. That had not been her intention but caught in that moment of delirium, the grey water was not without its attraction. There were still tears and she watched them drip down from her cheeks towards the water below her.

"Hey… you don't want to do that." Suddenly aware of her surroundings again, Alecia turned her face back to the voice. It was a girl, maybe seventeen. She took Alecia's arm and pulled her down onto the walkway. "Whatever it is, it can't be that bad sweetheart… Come here."

The girl held Alecia in her arms for a moment and then together they joined the straggling evening pedestrians and crossed the bridge together at a slow walk.

"I'm Jasmine," the girl said. "Jasmine Brooks, I've had my problems too… Want to tell me about what's troubling you?"

Alecia suddenly did, the urge to unburden herself to this kind stranger was inexplicably strong. Her voice sounded far away, as if it was filtered through layers and layers of sadness. Alecia gave the girl her name and scraped together a sanitised version of the truth that had driven her to heedlessly run and end up by the river.

"Yeah, boyfriend trouble, we've all been there sweetheart."

Jasmine was young but streetwise in a way that Alicia never would be.

"So Jasmin, tell me about your problems." Alecia said as her senses slowly drifted back into focus.

"Oh, I guess my story isn't that unusual even if it's not a pretty picture. My mother was a drunk, bottle of gin a day drunk… Don't get me wrong I loved her and all that… I might have been able to keep her sober if not for my old man. He was the real reason I had to get out of there. He started abusing me when I was still a kid. In the end, I couldn't take any more. So two months back, I just left 'em to it. Been on the streets since then."

"I'm sorry to hear about your parents Jasmine, so how do you live?"

"I've got mates… people give you stuff if you give 'em a sad puppy dog smile." Jasmine laughed. "No don't get me wrong, most people are kind to a girl alone on the streets. There's old Jim at the Waterside Café, he's always got a cup of tea for me… He'll give you his leftovers at the end of the day. Even cook you something if he can see you really need it."

"He sounds like a very kind soul."

"He is… Most people are if you look past the shell they put up to protect themselves."

Alecia thought what an astute observation it was for someone so young to make. Most people are kind… She hoped it might be true. The thought brought more tears to her eyes.

"Hey, come on girl… No more tears."

Jasmine put her arm across Alecia's shoulder and pulled her close. The pale blue sky had begun to soften at the edges of the horizon, melting to a blur of rosy apricot that lent its colour to the distant buildings. The view seemed to call for Alecia's attention. Something real and beautiful for her to hold onto.

"So Alicia, I'm sort of living in a squat at the minute; a derelict block of flats due for demolition any time now. There's three of us. Me, Jim and sometimes Nancy. Jim's got a fill-in job at the market so he's usually got a bit of cash… There's room for another, why don't you come back with me? It's far better than taking a cold swim in the Thames."

With no other obvious options, with little will of her own left, Alicia allowed herself to be led away. Over the weeks Alecia formed a bond of friendship with Jasmine. She was not happy knowing that this temporary escape was no real answer for her, but in her days of abject emptiness, she could not visualise any answer that might take away the pain.

Alecia fully understood that she had to break away from the squalid life that she had fallen into. Even so, there was a sort of peace to be found in simply surviving, breath by breath, minute by minute. She found a shared escape with Jasmine by drinking too much cheap cider until the pain in her heart was numbed and she could simply watch the world go by and listen to the sound of distant traffic as it echoed across the river. She had become just an observer of life, no longer a participant.

Even through all these days of oblivion, Tom had never left her thoughts. She could always hold onto that brief magical time when they had shared something precious… The time before he had learned the truth about her and began to hate her.

Alecia had no real appetite, she needed no food, the pain of loss was enough to sustain her. She started to lose weight; her nights were cold and damp. It was inevitable that she would become prey to the pathogens that silently hunted from the dank shadows.

In the end it was just a bad case of the flu that took hold of her. Jasmine, acting like a surrogate mother, wrapped Alecia up as warmly as she could. She brought her hot drinks and food from the cafe. But the infection would not go away. Alecia's cough became agonising, each breath a cold-sweat struggle to draw in air. Finally one night, she became ghostly pale and clammily unresponsive.

In a panic and certain that Alecia was dying, Jim borrowed an old van from one of the market workers and with infinite care, they lifted Alecia inside and drove her across the City to St. Osmunds Hospital. In the early hours of the morning, with Jasmine reduced to tears, they left their 'foundling' by the hospital entrance under the glow of streetlights, watched over by the sad face of the rising moon.

Alecia was discovered by an orderly almost half an hour later and they brought her inside. Hardly breathing they put Alecia on a respirator. She was diagnosed with bacterial pneumonia compounded by what appeared to have been weeks of poor nutrition.

They assumed that the young woman had been sleeping rough. She was washed, kept warm and dosed with a cocktail of antibiotics. There was nothing on her that could identify who she was and so the police were notified in the hope that they may be able to put a name to her and find her family.

When she had stabilised, Alecia was given a scan which revealed the extent of her infection. It also revealed what had not been immediately obvious, that she was a post operation transgender woman. This information was another piece to be added to the puzzle of her identity. The doctors were also able to correct her recently discarded hormone therapy to levels that were appropriate for such a young woman.

During these days, Alecia floated in a world of fractured dreams. Between the embracing stretches of blankness were moments of a half remembered life. But as a partial awareness rippled her mind, she felt a sense of deep rejection that told her that she was unworthy to engage in life again. She seemed drawn to simply let go, to let it all end. She might have allowed that to happen if not for the young girl who visited her in her dream. She smiled sweetly at Alecia and told her that she was loved, loved by Tom who was waiting for her to go to him.

In dreams things rarely make sense, but this girl who called herself Katie seemed to be telling Alecia a profound truth. It was not a truth that Alecia could ignore because there was someone called Tom that she had once known… once loved.

It was a long time before the police computer finally offered a correlation between the unknown young woman in St. Osmunds intensive care unit, with that of Alecia Bonnington's missing person report. By now Alecia, though still seriously ill, was showing modest signs of improvement. As her sedation was reduced, she was able, through a dry raspy voice, to finally speak. Her first words made little sense to anyone.

"Where's Katie?" she said.

Confusion was not unexpected in someone coming out of a deep coma. The doctor took Alecia's hand. She had grey hair cut short and her face was warm and friendly, her pale blue eyes, intense with concentration.

"Is your name Miss Bonington?"

Alecia blinked as she looked at the face of the doctor.

"Yes… I think so. I'm … I'm Alecia, that's it. Alecia Bonington."

"Hello Alecia… People who care very much about you, have been looking for you for a long time."

Alecia blinked as the words assembled themselves into a semblance of meaning. She did not move. It was her eyes that seemed to stretch out to the window and back in an effort to get her bearings.

"So where am I? How did I get here?"

Alecia had finally been found. She was alive and safe and Aunt Dorothy accompanied by Charlotte were soon at her bedside holding her hand and wrapping their love around the young woman once more.

"Tom loves you very much," Charlotte said.

"Does he… does he still?"

"He's been going mad with worry since you went missing, we all have."

"I'm sorry Charlotte… I can't really explain what happened."

"Forget what you think you know about Tom for the moment but… Do you really love him?... I mean committing yourself to him for a lifetime sort of love?"

"Yes, of course I do Charlotte… When my mother said those things… I could sort of see a truth in them, that I couldn't give Tom what a real woman could… That it would be unfair to him to tie him to me."

"Darling you are a real woman… take no notice at all of what Siena said from her place of angry bitterness. Sebastian is going to call Tom… he's gone back to Guernsey, there's a teaching job there for him."

"Oh?"

"That doesn't mean that he's abandoned you Darling. From what I know of Tom, he'll be on a plane as soon as he hears the news. If you two get together again, Darling… as you absolutely should. Then there might be a way that we can throw Siena's hurtful words back into her face."

"How? What do you mean, Charlotte?"

It was then that Charlotte made an offer that left Alicia in tears. Not tears of sadness but tears of hope and joy. Alecia was beginning to understand that she was not alone in the world that she was loved.

It had been just a few hours after Tom had said his final farewell to Henry and had flown back to Guernsey, that a young woman, burdened with a heavy backpack, slumped on the pavement outside Blackbird Books. She had suddenly found herself with nowhere to stay and had been wandering the streets rather aimlessly when her attention had been caught by the persistent singing of a blackbird.

With no destination in mind, the young woman had followed the song of the bird along the dusty streets for over an hour. She had not been able to catch up with the bird, but driven by the lovely song she caught vague intriguing glimpses, flashes of black wings as the creature darted ahead of her. Strange as it might seem, the bird appeared to be intent on leading her somewhere. Finally it settled in a tree near a bookshop as if it had arrived at its destination.

Henry had seen the exhausted young woman's arrival. He had not exactly been expecting her but was not surprised by her sudden appearance. Especially as he had just spotted the blackbird position itself in the tree that overlooked his shop. He went out into the afternoon sun and spoke to her.

"Hello, I'm Henry, Henry Butterworth… You look as if you could do with a cup of tea. Why not pop into the shop with me… I think I've got some chocolate biscuits somewhere."

The young woman looked up at the friendly face.

"That's very kind." She said. "My name's Jasmine, Jasmine Brooks… I'm not quite sure what brought me across the city to your shop… I was sort of following a blackbird."

"Ah yes, that does seem to happen from time to time; I think you might have been caught in a web of kindness that all sentient creatures understand. Maybe it was just fate that brought you here Jasmine. You know, I think you'll find that we might be able to help each other for just a little while, until you get nicely back on your feet…

 

It was a lazy sun-washed June afternoon when Tom took the call from Sebastian. The news that Alecia had been found came like a gift from the gods who had seemed to have turned their face from him but were now smiling again. Sebastian explained that she had been sleeping rough and had succumbed to pneumonia which came very close to killing her.

"She's still far from well, Tom. Alecia's going to need a lot of help, a lot of love, to drag herself back."

"I can give her all the help and love she needs." Tom said.

"Well I hope so but you should know that she's been plunged down to the deepest depths. I think she felt that there was no one but you to pin her future on. When her evil mother's words planted that sadistic seed, Alecia thought she had lost you forever. I imagine she felt that her life was over…. you need to try and understand that."

"I think I do understand how she felt, Sebastian. At least in some way. When she disappeared, I felt as if my heart had been ripped out. I was eventually able to come to terms with my loss, but the ache in my heart was still there until just now when you called. Sebastian, I'll be at her side the minute I can get a flight to London… So, tell me, just how bad is she?"

"So now she's come out of the coma, she's fully aware again. She remembers everything that happened to her. I think emotionally she's still very fragile but what really took its toll was the pneumonia. It left her physically drained. Luckily the last session of antibiotics seems to have finally beaten the infection but Dorothy was told that it was touch and go for a while. The thing that has not changed about her is her hunger for acceptance… Something that her mother was never able to give her. "

"Alecia can absolutely count on that from me… It's not even a question. But you're saying, she might have died?"

"It seems she came very close."

"I don't know if I can even let myself think about that, it might have destroyed me. Sebastian, there's something else that's been on my mind; something that I need to ask… Why did you never tell me about her transition?"

"I should have, I can see it was a mistake now. I was not sure how you would process the information."

"I thought you knew me, Sebastian, knew the person I am. I never judge people by the labels that others attach to them. I judge people by who they really are."

"I know, I know… I never should have doubted that you would see Alecia for the lovely young woman that she is. Just as I do, just as Charlotte and Dorothy do. I love her as a cousin, maybe I was being overprotective. I think my feelings of wanting to protect her are deeper now than when she was a troubled young boy struggling with dysphoria."

"OK, I can understand that… Look Sebastian, thank you again for the fantastic news, I'll see you very soon. We can talk again face to face."

Tom ended the call with his old school friend. Maybe it had been the best, most momentous call of his life. He went out into the garden and walked across the lawn into the mottled shade under the leafy apple trees. He stood watching the unfurling roses nodding in the breeze and felt himself shaking with nervous joy. There was a mist across his eyes as he was finally able to think of Alecia again. The scent of the roses and newly mown grass floated sweet and warm in the still air as Tom stood and remembered the first time he had seen her. The squeal of the Citroen's tyres and the shocked look on Alecia's face as he mistook her for a school girl.

Tom's parents had overheard parts of the phone conversation and when they had given their son a moment to gather his composure James and Penny came out into the garden and stood by him.

"Good news Tom?"

Tom had to blink away the moisture from his eyes before he could turn to his parents.

"The absolute best. Alecia has been found… She's in hospital, it will take time but she will be OK."

"That's wonderful Darling."

Penny wrapped her arms around her son and then dabbed at her own tears, James took his son's hand in a firm grip and then hugged him to his chest.

"You must bring her to see us as soon as she can travel." He said.

"I will Dad, that's my plan."

Slowly the evening fell holding the delicate colour of the turning season. High in the tree above him a blackbird had stationed himself and was still singing his exquisite song. In that first touch of twilight, now that Alicia had been found, it seemed possible that finally summer had arrived.

Tom was able to get a flight to London the next morning. By the afternoon he stood nervously at the entrance to St. Osmunds. He looked up at the imposing white limestone building with its ranks of windows that peered out across the City.

Once he had negotiated the labyrinthine corridors and found her room, Tom stood for a while, trying to think of what to say. In the end he knew that there was no need, no prepared speech could ever contain how he felt. As the door swung open, he saw a bright white walled room. Sunlight was shafting in from a large window, dappled by the green avenue of sycamores that led up from the manicured hospital grounds to the main buildings.

Alecia's eyes were closed at first, her lids were pale blue, looking almost translucent as the window light fell across them. At the sound of Tom's feet on the polished floor, Alecia opened her eyes and with the slightest of little gasps, she smiled showing her perfect white teeth. Tom thought that she looked so unexpectedly beautiful. Her inner beauty burst through the cloak of illness that was still wrapped around her.

Tom stared at the fine golden hairs of her arms glinting in the sunshine. Her lovely hair had been washed and brushed and shone as it fell against her pillow. When she spoke, her voice was soft, still a little husky from all she had suffered through. With an obvious effort, Alecia lifted her arms up to him.

"Tom, my darling… They told me that I made a terrible mistake about you. It was my mother…"

"Don't talk about her, she's just a poor troubled soul who can't see that her daughter is a joy to behold."

"Am I?"

"Oh yes."

"Aunt Dorothy, tells me that she's finally decided to sell Willow Manor."

"Has she? This is not so that she can…"

"No, no Mother's demands played no part in the decision. I think if she hadn't been so horrible Aunt Dorothy might have given her something… but not now. Surprisingly people are queuing to make an offer on the Manor. I think Aunt Dorothy would like to sell it to someone who will renovate the old place… rather than demolish it."

"I can understand her feelings… what will she do when the place is sold?"

"I think she intends to find a small place in the country to live out her days."

"That sounds perfect for her."

"It does… I guess it will mean that I will no longer have a home."

"I really wouldn't worry about that." Tom said. He watched the flicker of her eyelids, the shy smile on her lips and felt the squeeze of her fingers.

"Sebastian told me that you went home to Guernsey."

Tom longed for the day when Alecia would walk the L'Ancresse sands with him in the sun. When she would feel the Guernsey air on her cheek and hold herself next to him as her body recovered.

"Yes… I sort of lost hope that I'd ever see you again so going home seemed like a safe retreat. Now I'm back there on my little island, I know it's where I belong."

"I'd love to go there."

"When you're well enough, my dream is to take you there, let you meet my parents and show you why the little island holds my heart."

"Then, let's do it."

"I want to take you home with me and see if I can convince you to share a life there with me. Would you like that?"

"I think I would Tom… Let's do that as well."

Tom sat down by the bed, feeling the warmth of her hands. Alecia suddenly clasped hold of Tom's fingers as if he might disappear at any moment if she didn't keep a tight hold of him.

"The doctors say I can go home in another week or so… as long as there's someone who can look after me… do you know anyone who might be able to do that?"

"I can't think of anyone." Tom said.

Alecia smiled and squeezed Tom's hand tighter.

"Remember I once told you that I had caught you and reeled you in?…"

"I think there was some mention of you eating me."

"Yes… I did say that. It's nice that you remember…. Tom for a terrible dark moment, I thought you had escaped from me."

"No, I'm still firmly hooked."

With those simple words Alecia seemed able to leap across her final chasm of uncertainty.

"And will you look after me?" She said.

"Do you really need to ask? I love you Alecia, you must know that now." Tom leaned across the bed covers and very gently he kissed Alecia's lips. With all the strength she could muster, Alecia pulled him closer and let her tears flow softly without making any attempt to stop them.

 

Dorothy asked Tom to stay with her while Alecia recuperated in hospital. It was not as if she had a shortage of rooms. He found Alecia's great aunt to be a woman of wisdom and generosity. After returning from the hospital one evening Tom and Dorothy sat drinking tea.

"Tom you will be kind to Alecia won't you, she's been through such a lot."

"I'd never do anything to harm her."

"No, I think I can see that… Alecia will have told you that I've finally decided to unburden myself of Willow Manor."

"Yes, do you have plans for the future?"

"Plans, yes. We'll have to see how it all works out. I have no idea how much this old place will sell for. I've asked Charlotte to take care of the sale for me… she's in the business so it seems to make perfect sense…. You know Tom, I've always had a fondness for those pretty Cotswold villages, full of traditional Englishness with their rolling hills, and babbling streams. I think it's a place where I could settle my bones. I've asked Charlotte to see if she can find me a nice cottage somewhere.

"It sounds idyllic."

"Yes, if sufficient funds materialise… So you intend to take Alecia to Guernsey."

"It's what we both want."

"So she tells me… Then I wish you well… Now I'm ready for my bed, Tom. I'll see you in the morning." Dorothy eased herself from her chair and disappeared to her room.

As the summer wound on Alecia made her recovery. Charlotte took Tom with her when she brought Alecia home to the Manor. She told them that a prospective and wealthy purchaser had made an 'interesting' offer on Willow Manor. His intention was to renovate the property to its former glory which was an outcome that Dorothy had long hoped for.

On Guernsey Tom's father had been tasked with finding a rental property for Tom and Alecia. His search had eventually born fruit. James had found a fully furnished two bedroom cottage in La Villette on the south of the island near the airport. The rental was modest, comfortably affordable for a mathematics teacher and a place to make a foothold while the couple got themselves established.

It was only a week before the start of the new school term, when Alecia and Tom moved into the cottage. They borrowed Penny's old Ford and toured the island. Tom showed her where he had grown up, the school he used to go to and all the sights of interest.

They had a pleasant dinner at a restaurant in St Peter Port and then Tom drove them across the island to Vazon bay on the west coast. The sky was dark as they walked along the sea wall and then down onto the sand. The moon was low in the sky, its reflection caught on the rippling waves of the sea. Above them the sky was filled with stars that seemed to flame in the blackness. They were alone on the sand and Alecia clasped Tom's hand.

"I thought of you every night when I lay in my depression; before I became really ill all I wanted was you."

Tom put his arms around her and held her close.

"Look at the stars Tom… they are so beautiful. I used to look at them when I was sleeping rough… hoping that you might be looking at them too… Tom, do you believe in angels?"

"You mean with flaming swords and wings?"

"Not exactly that…"

"Then what?"

"When I was in my coma, slowly coming back to life… an angel came to me and told me that you loved me and wanted me to come back for you."

"Really? an angel."

"She said she was called Katie."

At the sound of his sister's name Tom suddenly stopped walking and turned to Alecia.

"Katie… Katie told you that I needed you to come back to me?"

"Yes, you seem upset, Tom. Does the name mean something to you?"

"Did Sebastian ever mention the name 'Katie' to you?"

"No I don't think so…Do you know someone called Katie?"

"Katie was my twin sister… she died."

"Oh Tom I'm so, so sorry."

"When you were missing, and I know this will sound stupid… but I called out to her on a beach like this, asked her to find you… I asked her to tell you that I needed you back in my life."

"Then I think she did just that, Tom."

"No, it must just be a coincidence."

"Really? a coincidence."

"I believe in the rational, the things that science and philosophy can explain."

"So why did you call on your lost sister for help?"

"It was just desperation… I never thought…"

Alecia pulled Tom close to her.

"Just kiss me Tom." She said. "There's no need to try and rationalise what happened."

So Tom lowered his face to Alecia's. He could feel her sweet warm breath as he pressed his lips against hers and they shared a long kiss with the wind blowing Alecia's har and the sound of the waves in their ears.

"Tom, I heard from Aunt Dorothy today… The sale of the Manor has gone through and she's made rather a lot of money, much more than she needs to buy her little cottage. She's giving me an inheritance… I'm going to be rich. Well, just a little rich."

"Wow."

"I was thinking of using some of the money to start or maybe buy a daycare centre here on Guernsey."

"That's a brilliant idea."

"Do you think so?"

"Yes you were absolutely made to take care of children."

"Do you think so… You remember when my mother told you that I could never give you a baby."

"That's not important Sweetheart, she was just spraying her venom."

"Well it is important for me Tom… I want to have your baby and there might be a way."

"You'll need to explain that sweetheart."

"Charlotte has offered to have a baby for us… Your seed artificially inseminating her. Our baby will be yours and will have some of my genes and all of our love."

Alecia's hair fell away from her face as she spoke. The sound of the surf seemed to fade as the tide withdrew, rippling across the hard sand.

"That's so generous of Charlotte."

"Yes… She's another angel we have in our family." Thinking of Katie again and Charlotte's offer of the most precious gift that could ever be given, brought tears to Alecia's eyes.

Tom put his arms around Alecia and held her tight.

"I love you so much Alecia." He said.

Alecia snuggled into the warmth of Tom's embrace.

They stood there just holding each other for a long time, watching the sky with its sparkling range of stars.

"My life is all lit by stars now." Alecia said. She lifted her face to the mild luminous September sky, held it there for a moment and then looked up at Tom.

"Do you remember the party when we met for the first time? How special that first exchanged glance was ? And when I left you on the steps that lovely song of the blackbird echoing into the night."

"I do." Tom said.

"I knew that you belonged to me Tom from that moment. It's why losing you, thinking I had lost you, was so hard for me… So will you marry me Tom?" she said. "Will you give me a baby?"

Alecia had no tears now as she filled with hope.

"Yes," Tom said, and he kissed her face.

"It took me a long time to accept how you really felt about me," Alecia said. "But I know now and I know what my disappearance meant for you. I'm so sorry that I hurt you Tom."

Holding Alecia, warm in his arms, Tom felt a flush of love for her that was almost painful in its intensity.

Staring to the sea through his wet eyes Tom could glimpse the future; already he could feel the love he would have for their baby and for the baby's mother. All the pain he had suffered seemed worth it now.

He could hear the sound of the sea again and the voice of the rising wind as it skipped across the sand. He could still hear the lovely song of the blackbird as it echoed into the night.