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another way of leaving you.’
    He dropped his hands to his sides and took a step back, his shoulders dropping with the relief that he had found a way to say what he had to without tearing her completely to pieces.
    ‘Sometimes I think we found each other a little too soon,’ he added softly. ‘I needed to grow up first and I didn’t get that chance, and now I want to try before it’s too late.’
    Maggie stared at him, clinging on to random words and shaking the sense from them she wanted.
    ‘You don’t really want this, do you?’ she said, biting her lip. ‘I mean, aren’t you even a little bit sad that what we had is over?’ She worked hard to keep the whine out of her voice, hoping that somehow in all the confusion he’d have one moment of clarity and realise what he was doing, that he didn’t have to throw it all away.
    Feeling light-headed, Christian shook his head and retreated back behind his desk, which was suddenly just a desk again, and ran his fingers through his thick hair.
    ‘Honestly?’ he said, his face suddenly open and light.
    Maggie nodded, holding her breath.
    ‘No, Maggie, I’m really sorry, but I’m not sad, only relieved that the deception is over at last. I never wanted to hurt you, but Lou has brought a … a lightness to my life that I had forgotten was possible. I can’t be sad, Maggie. This is what I need right now, this is what I’m ready for. I’m not … maybe I never was ready for you. I feel alive for the first time in years. I’m sorry.’
    Maggie stood frozen by the pain for a moment, and then, when she could breathe out evenly again, she turned on her heel. Keeping her eyes fixed ahead, she walked back through the main office and down the stairs, firmly ignoring the absence of conversation that followed her.
    Only when she reached the cold air of the high street did she let herself cry, holding on to the one thing he’d said that she believed was true.
    He’d said that he would always love her.

Chapter Five
    ‘Yeah?’ A tall man with bright pink hair shaved away at the sides greeted Pete suspiciously. For once Pete felt overdressed in his jeans and T-shirt. This man was naked from the waist up, the vulnerability of his soft pale torso belying the ferocity of his multiple piercings.
    ‘Erm, I’m Pete Hardcastle?’ Pete held out his slim hand. ‘I spoke to someone called … Falcon about the room? Mike Cohen arranged it for me? Through the university?’ Pete ran out of prompts and stuttered to a halt.
    The semi-naked man regarded him for a moment before reaching out and shaking his hand firmly, breaking into a grin. ‘Oh yeah, all right man. Come in. I’m Falcon.’
    Pete detected a Midlands accent as he entered the musty hallway of the three-storey Victorian terrace. At least he wouldn’t be the only one here from north of Watford.
    ‘Sorry, man, you must think I’m right ignorant.’ Falcon gestured that Pete should head up the stairs. ‘It’s cos I was drumming, and when I get in the zone it takes me a while to get out again. I’m in a punk band. We play at The Horn of Plenty up the road twice a month. We’re called Fatal, you won’t have heard of us. Do you play?’
    Falcon had stopped outside the front bedroom and pushed open the door. Pete walked into a largish double room with an old bed fitted into the bay of the window, a desk and one of those small seventies wardrobes, the kind you only ever find in rented accommodation.
    ‘No, no, I don’t play. I wish I did, man. It’d be banging.’ Pete hoiked his backpack on to the bed and looked around.
    ‘You travel light then.’ Falcon nodded at the backpack in approval.
    ‘Oh, the rest of my stuff is coming tomorrow. Actually I’ve got quite a lot of … equipment.’ Pete wasn’t sure if he should mention his astrology addiction to this huge man. It might seem a bit geeky, potentially anoraky and sort of lame. In his experience it was usually a good idea to keep yourself to yourself until