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imagination. LOL! You and your Fuckit List.”
     
     

18. Flash!
     
    Bloody rain! Today of all days, when he can’t put it off any longer. He’s been planning this for weeks; it’s the last piece of the jigsaw.
    He stands in the doorway, glancing furtively at the window across the street. The collar of his huge raincoat is pulled up around his ears and a broad-brimmed hat ensures that only his eyes are exposed. Nevertheless, the biting wind still manages to penetrate his bones and make his teeth chatter.
    He knows he has only one shot and he has to make it count. He rubs his hands together to keep his circulation going. It would be too bad if his finger slipped at the crucial moment.
    How much longer ? He glances at his watch. It seems like he’s been here for hours.
    He slides his hand inside his coat and checks his equipment. He never expected it to be this hard; surely it couldn’t be much longer before it was over?
    At last, the street is quiet and no-one is in sight. The rain has eased up a little. He takes a tentative step from his shelter and looks around. Nothing – it’s now or never. Crossing the street quickly, he takes up his position in front of the window, unfastens his raincoat and focuses on the redhead. Then …
    FLASH!
    He’s taken his shot and he’s off at a run, buttoning his coat as he flies along fuelled by adrenalin.
    At the coffee house he orders a camomile tea and closes his eyes for a moment. He reaches inside his coat as a heavy hand descends onto his shoulder.
    “I’ll have the camera, mate.”
    The security guard is enormous, and there is no point in trying to refuse. Grey hands over his beloved device. The guard switches it on and looks at the image.
    “Can I just see it, before you do anything drastic?” Grey pleads. The guard turns the viewing screen towards him.
    “You can hit ‘DELETE’ yourself, if you like, mate. Your wife says she won’t press charges as long as you delete the picture and never try to pull a stunt like that again.”
    “My ex-wife, you mean.” He takes the camera and examines the picture of the red-haired mannequin in a bridal gown. “She stole my designs, you know. I only wanted a picture of the finished article.”
    The guard is not to be swayed. Reluctantly, Grey hits ‘DELETE’.
     
     

19. Wish You Were Here
     
    Darling,
     
    Paris is as beautiful as ever. I walked along the Seine this morning, near to Notre Dame and thought of you. You’ll love it here. It’s so much more romantic than London, even though London holds such wonderful memories.
     
    I’ve moved out of the hotel now. I couldn’t really afford to stay there any longer. I found a small apartment above a bakery near the Tuileries, and I’ve got a job as a waitress at a café nearby. I’m very comfortable, but lonely. I’ve made some friends here, but I miss you so much. I keep reliving our last conversation, as you were getting on the train at Victoria station.
     
    “We’ll travel the world together, my love,” you said. “As soon as I’m free.” Then you kissed me and boarded the train, saying “Shall we start with Paris?”
     
    “I’ll meet you there,” I said as you were pulled away from me.
     
    When you didn’t call or write, I came looking for you in Portsmouth, but I must have got the office address wrong, because the receptionist said sh e ha d never heard of you. I didn’t know what to do at first, but I found your address in the phone book and your housekeeper (I suppose that’s who she was) told me you ha d moved out and left no forwarding address. I knew then that you must have come on ahead to prepare for our world trip, so I decided to follow you to Paris. Each night I stand on the steps of Sacr é Coeur as the sun goes down and wait for you. I know it won’t be long now until I hold you in my arms again and we are together forever.
     
    Until then, my only love, I remain
     
    Yours forever,
     
    Catherine.
     
    She read the letter through and