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you knew the lie of the land. And besides, since Stella’s departure he had only wanted to look at his immediate surroundings. The infinite possibilities that the night sky seemed to reflect back to him, images of what she might be doing or thinking beneath it somewhere else, terrified him. It was ridiculous, he knew, but he felt as if looking into the telescope right now might tell him more about his future than he needed or wanted to know.
    ‘Well, that’s it, then.’ Falcon shrugged. ‘Phone bill is itemised, leccy and gas are paid monthly and that’s included in your rent. Hot water’s on all the time and if you want a shower in the morning make sure you get in before Angie, otherwise you’ll stand no chance until midday. Oh, and there’s a telly downstairs, we’ve got cable. I’ll leave you to it. If you fancy a pint later I’m going to my local, it’s a rank old pub but at least they still sell real ale and not all this French shit. Otherwise Ange’ll be in here the minute she knows you’ve arrived with a full guided tour and a four-course meal. She’ll love you, she’s a sucker for a pretty face.’
    Pete laughed uncertainly. ‘I’m engaged anyway,’ he said, wishing he had something like a ring to prove it.
    ‘Oh yeah?’ Falcon asked him. ‘Where’s the Mrs then?’
    ‘Away. For a year,’ Pete told him, waiting for the usual stream of incredulous enquiries that followed this bit of information.
    ‘Nice one. A year-long stag night. Laters,’ Falcon said before closing the door.
    Pete climbed across the bed to look out of the window. It was an overcast afternoon and all he could see was the steady stream of traffic on the Hatfield Road. He thought he might like Falcon and, although he wasn’t sure about the name, it gave him hope. On his way here he’d been seriously worried about the whole escapade. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but the people down south seemed harder somehow, less human than he’d expected. What with that and the woman he’d almost bumped into on the high street, he’d felt really unsettled. She’d been crying, sobbing her heart out like no one could see her, and most of the other passers-by had acted as they couldn’t. He’d wanted to say something to her, but she’d seemed so completely wrapped up in herself he thought he would just be intruding.
    If this place made her, a local, so unhappy, God knows what it would do for Pete. He looked up into the densely clouded sky and tried to visualise the stars that would be burning brightly above it.
    ‘So what have you got planned for me?’ he asked the universe nervously, and then he started to make his bed.

Chapter Six
    By the time Maggie had walked the length of the high street to meet Sarah at The Maltings, her face had cleared of blotches, even if her mascara had run slightly into her lavishly applied concealer, giving her skin an oddly greyish tint. In fact she felt positively calm, just like that little cloud her mother had described to her earlier.
    She could see Sarah waiting for her outside HMV, her sunglasses on despite the overcast day and her shirt tied in a knot beneath her breasts. As always Maggie felt a slight twinge of jealousy at Sarah’s curvy hips and the slight bloom of her tanned stomach over the waistband of her jeans. If she mentioned this to Sarah, however, she would scoff and laugh at her as she always did. ‘You’re the original model six, love! Everything you wear fits you!’
    Maggie knew Sarah was right, but still, after years of hanging around her voluptuous friend it had taken a long time for her to feel that her gamine physique had any perks at all; actually it had taken up until she met Christian, who’d loved it. He’d loved her hand-span waist and her minimal bottom. Her ‘subtle décolletage’, as he’d once called her breasts, drove him mad with desire. ‘Girls like Sarah,’ he’d told her, ‘they’re all out front, if you know what I mean, like a market