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seems like another lifetime away.
    Then I’m transported again, into my room. My room was white, all white. The windows looked out onto green, leafy trees, and inside there was a super-king-sized bed with a pure white bedspread, floor-to-ceiling white lacquer wardrobes and an enormous en suite with dazzling white stone lining every surface . . . It was beautiful.
    ‘I want you to come back to LA with me as my girlfriend, Meg. Come and live with me.’
    I shake my head quickly, trying to rid myself of the memory, but I can’t. Suddenly I’m looking into his piercing green eyes and he’s asking me to leave Christian and choose him instead.
    It was everything I’d ever wanted – once. To be the girl that changed Johnny Jefferson’s wild-boy ways. But he’d left it too late. And now it seems that there’s no end to his downward spiral.

 
  Chapter 6  
    Christian returns the following week. I’ve kept tabs on the internet so that I can avoid constantly asking my boyfriend for news about my former lover, but all has been quiet. Dana went to her parents’ place in Montana to recuperate, and Johnny has been holed up in rehab. Christian cracked on with his work and we settled back into our unconventional routine.
    In the middle of June, Bess calls to ask if Christian, Barney and I fancy meeting her in Barcelona for her birthday at the end of the month. I broach the subject with Christian over coffee outside on the terrace. ‘We still haven’t been and it’s only a couple of hours away.’
    The corners of Christian’s mouth turn down. ‘Contour Lines will have started the European leg of their tour by then. I’ve been meaning to tell you.’
    ‘Oh.’
    ‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘But you and Barney could go?’
    Within days, Bess has booked her flight to Barcelona, and Christian has surprised me with a weekend’s stay for Bess, Barney and me at one of the city’s top hotels.
    He’s due to fly out to Austria on Monday, but a phone call on Friday night completely scuppers those plans. As soon as I see his face, I know instantly that something is wrong. Very wrong.
    ‘What?’ he asks.
    Johnny? Is it Johnny?
    ‘Oh, no . . .’ He clutches the receiver with shaking fingers, his face creased with pain.
    ‘What’s wrong?’ I ask urgently, sick to the pit of my stomach.
    He doesn’t answer, too caught up in what the person on the other end of the line is saying.
    Christian drops the phone to the floor with a clatter and buries his face in his hands. I quickly pick it up and speak into the receiver.
    ‘Hello? Who is this?’
    ‘It’s Anton.’ Christian’s older brother. He sounds upset.
    ‘What’s wrong?’
    ‘It’s Mum.’
    His next words send a chill through me: ‘She’s dead.’
    Mandy Pettersson was killed simply crossing the road. She had nipped out between a small break in the traffic and didn’t see the motorcycle that hit her – it wasn’t even going very fast – but the impact knocked her into the path of an oncoming lorry. She died instantly.
    ‘I’m so sorry,’ I tell Anton, going to Christian and putting my arm around his broad shoulders. He’s staring ahead in a daze. ‘Do you know when the funeral will be?’
    ‘No, not yet. Joel has to get back here from Australia. Call me tomorrow; we should know more then.’
    ‘Okay, I will. How is your dad?’
    Anton’s voice breaks. ‘He’s in shock.’
    ‘I’ll let you go,’ I say gently, rubbing Christian’s arm.
    ‘Okay. Bye,’ he manages to say before hanging up.
    I turn to look at Christian. He meets my eyes and his instantly fill with tears.
    ‘I’m so sorry,’ I say, and then he breaks down. I hug him tightly while he sobs into my shoulder. ‘I’m so sorry.’
    Two days later, we drive to Barcelona. Not to enjoy a mini-break, but to fly home to the UK. There aren’t any direct flights from Perpignan and this was the next best option. We’ve left Barney with my parents in France. It’s the first time I’ve been away