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at me, and my mind went blank, but not for the usual reasons. I couldn’t do anything but look back at him. He had the bluest eyes I’d ever seen—proper deep blue, like cornflowers, with dark lashes—and when our eyes met, I felt like everything had stopped in the room. Just like in a film.
    He stared back at me, and his brow furrowed; then he started smiling in a “hey, it’s you!” way, even though we’d never met. Butterflies fluttered up in my stomach. I hadn’t got a clue who he was, but something about him felt instantly familiar, as if I’d known him for years.
Did
I know him?
    But in the split second we were staring at each other, Rolf vanished from view; then a very unmanly squeal indicated that the Rolf Express was heading off the tracks very fast.
    Ted leaped forward with more energy than I’d seen him expend at work all year, and grabbed Rolf’s legs just in time. There was a scraping crash, followed by the sound of falling pots. And then, far away, the yowl of a surprised cat.
    I’m not ashamed to say that my first thought wasn’t
Oh no, we’ve lost a guest,
or even,
Oh no, I hope Elvis wasn’t having a tomcat’s night out tonight,
but
Oh,
bollocks,
that’ll be Grace Wright’s effing Dream Seeds.



Three
    E veryone surged forward, and Ted and Rolf reappeared from the scrum of shocked onlookers, as my teeth continued to chatter with delayed shock. It was a
long
way down from that balcony.
    Rolf, however, was doing a very good impression of someone who nearly falls out of windows at every party. He brushed dead leaves off his shiny shirt as if nothing had happened and made a “drinky drinky?” gesture to a nearby girl, but his blond mate grabbed him by the arm and whispered furiously into his ear. He seemed less than impressed—whether with Rolf for making a show of himself, or with us for having a potentially lethal balcony, I couldn’t make out.
    Meanwhile, a couple of girls rushed over to Ted and patted him like a big hero. He looked startled, then disengaged himself to sort out the iPod, and to my relief, Beyoncé was blaring out of the stereo again before you could say
“awkward.”
    Rolf beckoned me over, back on the charm offensive. I went, praying Jo was on her way back up to deliver the telling-off I wasn’t sure I’d be able to summon up. Even though he totally deserved it.
    Or maybe we did. Who was supposed to have locked the doors? Jo … or me?
    “This is all your fault.” Rolf shook his head flirtily. “If you’d been here—”
    “If I’d been here, I’d have told you not to go on the balcony,” I said. “In fact, I was. Couldn’t you hear me yelling?”
    “Have you never seen
Romeo and Juliet
?” He pouted.
    “That doesn’t work on me,” I said.
    “It will. Give it time. Listen, the Rolex has spoken. I need to move on. Where’s the lovely Josephine?”
    “I don’t know.”
    Rolf’s pout intensified. “Playing hard to get. At her own party.
Quel
style.” He snapped his fingers, pointing to the door. “Anyhoo, with deep regret, the Rolf Express is departing this station. Are you on board?”
    “This is my party!” I protested. “Of course I’m not on board!”
    “Too bad.” He grabbed my hand, kissed it, then made a clicking noise: two broad-shouldered men I hadn’t seen before materialized and ushered him to the door, making a wall of navy-blue blazer between him and anyone trying to follow. The trio of blondes trailed behind, one of them staggering under the weight of a cooler. Rolf made one last salute at the door, which only about four people caught, then he was off.
    I still had no idea who he was, but I felt as if half the oxygen had just left the room.
    “Don’t think the Rolf Express is taking passengers from this station,” said Ted.
    “The Rolf Express should be
canceled
,” said Jo, appearing from nowhere with a dark look on her face, despite the glitter. “I’ve a good mind to put a cow on the line. Rolf is such a …