Chapter One

A year later

Sammy adjusted the sling that hugged Eleanor close to her. She preferred to carry her daughter close to her when she was negotiating the busy streets of London; it was no place for something cumbersome with wheels. That didn't mean it was easy, babies weren't light, her daughter was no exception, four month old Ellie, for short, was asleep, but then she was an angelic baby, thankfully. Looking down at her cherubic face, eyes closed, long lashes fanning her cheeks, cupid bow lips slightly parted, Sammy knew that she could and would fall more in love with her daughter more and more every single day. She had laughed that morning, the first full on recognisable belly laugh that she'd noticed. Every achievement, every tiny milestone was a stark reminder that he wasn't there, that Marcus was missing it all, and there was no one there to share those moments with, and even worse, she'd never told him that there was going to be a baby, he'd died not knowing that.

She gasped, the pain was still almost as real as the day the police woman knocked her door and told her that he was gone. She hated that she would break down at totally random places at any time, Martini her best mate Corinne called her. Admittedly Corinne was the only person who could compare her still unremitting grief with an alcohol advertising campaign slogan of anytime, anyplace anywhere, but then no one else was there for her, no one else knew how to deal with her. She wished that her gran was still there, she'd help. Monica was as useless as ever, and Marcus' family were still knee deep in their own sadness.

The lift dinged as it reached the fifteenth floor and she had to shake herself. She was here to sort things out, to fight for what was hers...she shook her head, her hands wrapping around the baby attached to her, it wasn't for herself, she needed nothing, but Ellie, she deserved more.

Joel's office sat at the end of the corridor, next door to the one that Marcus had used. She had visited the building a million times when she had been dating Marcus, coming straight from the station after her usual arduous trip into the City most weekends. He was usually too busy to make it out to Cornwall, but then she loved coming to London. Joel was both his best friend and his business partner, and they had adjacent offices as well as sharing a home in the early days. So, needless to say, they spent a lot of time together. Every story Marcus regaled had involved the other man, but long before they married Joel had become distant. He never visited them once Marcus took on his own place, a place for them both, and she heard many a late night argument on the telephone with Marcus begging him to be the friend he always had been. She couldn't help but blame herself, Joel obviously didn't like her.

Despite that he was best man at their wedding, though there was an awkwardness to the whole thing, then within a few months Marcus had died. And Joel hadn't come to see her since, not once.

She hated that, but not as much as she hated the realisation that he was about to take the roof from over their heads. Who did that? What sort of man?

At his door she took a deep breath, it had taken a letter from the property management company and a visit from Daniel, Marcus' brother to spur her out of her sadness and make the trip to this man's office.

They say that in times of crisis you find out who your friends are. That was never more true for Sammy. The moment that the words had been issued by the policewoman that day almost a year ago she'd watched people fall away from her. Her mother, Monica...that was no surprise, she was a mother in biological terms only and she expected nothing more. But other than Corinne, no one from her life back in Cornwall kept in touch, and she hadn't made any true friends of her own in London, and she didn't really know any of his friends that well. They had little in common other than him, being from completely different social circles. It was inevitable that they would drift away.

Marcus' family, well they had surprised them the most, she thought that they would share their grief, she had been invited into the family with open arms when she had started a relationship with their oldest child, they'd treated her like a daughter. But she had barely seen them other than the funeral. She'd thought it would change when her darling little girl came along, but the Turner family were noticeable by their absence. In fact her own mother had actually visited her after becoming a grandmother. That swung the balance and she started to feel completely alone in the world.

That was until a few weeks after her birth and his slightly younger brother Daniel arrived at the home she'd shared with her husband.

By then she hadn't wanted to give him the time of day, too much time had passed, and she was bitter and angry as well as still distraught, and lonely, isolated, scared. Sammy had watched him sceptically as he explained that his mother was struggling with depression, his father rarely left the house. But she wasn't that forgiving, she'd been through her own hell, and the Turner's were the only grandparents that Ellie would ever know and they'd snubbed her. Their first grandchild.

Despite her animosity, Daniel had been persistent over the last couple of months and she had started to let him into her life a little. In fact, purely by chance he had been the person who turned up at her door as she stood stunned looking at the letter she'd just opened from an anonymous property company that was giving her six weeks to vacate her apartment. The apartment they'd moved into so happily almost two years earlier was about to be snatched away. The last link to the man she'd loved and lost.

"I thought that this belonged to Marcus, that he owned it, he always told me we'd be safe here forever. When we moved in I told him I was never moving again...he told me I'd never have to."

Daniel had grimaced at that, and she felt ill. Slumping to the sofa she'd stared at the letter again, she couldn't go back to Cornwall, other than Corinne she'd burned every bridge there, plus she felt close to Marcus here, the apartment was filled with memories from their tragically short time together. She couldn't lose it; if she did she might lose her last link to him too.

"It was a work property I always thought that, I don't think he took out a specific mortgage, but it's part of his pension surely?"

Sammy knew her face was as expressive as an open book, she'd had nothing from her husband's 'estate', she'd been too bereft to worry for the first few months, then Ellie arrived. They had a healthy balance in their current account, but other than that, she had no new income, and so the balance in that account had almost diminished, her expenses weren't high, but it wasn't an endless supply of money.

"What? No pension?"

She shrugged, "I'm not really up on financial stuff."

"You've had NOTHING since...?" The question hung unfinished, neither of them wanted to say...or hear the end of that sentence and she flinched, then shook her head as she really hadn't had anything.

He shook his head angrily, almost vindictively, "it'll be that bastard Vaughan. 'Supposed' best friend! I'll go and sort him out."

She picked through the anger, the animosity, Marcus' best friend had disappeared at her arrival in his life. She was the common denominator, and if her being evicted from her marital home, the place her husband promised would be safe for her, was down to him, then she was going to be the one to deal with it. She was going straight to the lion's den to confront him herself.

Suddenly, as Sammy stood along the corridor from said Lion's Den her bravado seemed to ebb. She wasn't ready for this, dealing with the aftermath of Marcus. She could escape, get outside, breath the 'fresh' air of central London, avoid the situation and run away. But that had never been her way. Then she felt her daughter wriggle against her, stretching in her sleep. She was the difference. Alone Sammy could run back to Cornwall, to cope, to live a life, rebuild. But she couldn't do that with Ellie, she deserved more, and she was her father's daughter, there must be some financial security left in his wake. She'd been too upset to think about that, but now, well now she had to pull up her socks and face up to the man that was the key to it all, regardless of the memories he'd recreate, despite the way he'd make her feel..

The corridor was SO familiar, so she hoiked her baby bag over her shoulder and marched in the direction of Joel.

Joel Edwards was having a hellish day, he sat at his desk, head in hands as he waited for his computer to notify him of an incoming email, the email that was crux to his projects for the next three months. Incompetence and inefficiency blighted his life.

Running his hands through his hair he slumped back in his seat, he needed coffee, hell he needed whisky, but that wasn't happening. He couldn't seem him getting out of the office much before nine, his 'to-do' list resembled the menu for his local Chinese, it may have even been longer.

"Janet?" He called in the direction of the corridor where his PA was situated. She was used to his moods so he didn't hide the snap in his voice.

Refreshing his email once more he groaned. Nothing.

And no coffee.

"Janet?"

When there was still no answer he dragged himself to his feet and marched out of the office, his anger barely under control. She was the greatest PA a man could ask for, a woman having brought up four sons herself she was well used to his moods and foibles. She was usually in tune with him, the coffee arriving without him asking. Typically today was different.

But as he stepped into the foyer he stopped dead, a jolt of pain spearing his chest at the sight that met him.

He'd recognise Sammy anywhere, though the vibrant red head that he'd first seen on the ferry in Greece several years earlier was a distant relative to the woman who stood half turned from him, deep in conversation with Janet.

She had amazing hair; he and Marcus had both spotted that as she boarded the boat, long auburn waves that floated around her shoulders. Marcus had then lusted after her curves, his quote that first night when they'd parted at the port had been, 'she is just made to touch'. Joel hadn't shared that thought, in fact he thought it rather sexist, but now seeing the tiny woman in front of him, he could see how much weight she'd lost, and her lustrous pale skin was dull, devoid of any glow. And she was wearing shapeless grey clothing that hung from her, the woman who had modified and created her own clothes into bright

The year had been hard on everyone.

"Sammy?" His voice croaked as he addressed her, then his heart pained again as he spotted the baby wrapped close to her, Marcus' baby, the baby he'd never see. He and Marcus had had their differences before he died, but they had been best friends for twenty years, it broke him in two to see the two people that he'd loved so bereft, so alone.

Her blue eyes lifted to his and she offered a tight smile, "Joel. I need to speak to you."

Janet gushed over the baby for a moment, before he nodded, he didn't know what he could possibly have to offer her, but he would never turn her down. "Of course. Come in." He turned to Janet, "can we get some coffee please? I am parched."

Janet cooed at the baby then hugged Sammy before turning to him and smiling, "of course, and it'll be tea for you Sam?"

Sammy nodded, then followed him into the office as he digested the fact that his PA knew her better than he did.

Eleanor was heavy, so she was glad to spot the chair opposite Joel's desk, and she made for it. Lowering herself into the seat she watched Joel as he walked to the other side of the desk. He'd aged. He was always the youthful one, and his dark hair still had no hint of grey though he had passed thirty over a year earlier, but he did have more lines, creasing his brow as though he'd spent a lot of time frowning. Standing in the window, arms folded, resting his hips against the sill staring down at him, he seemed huge, like a monster. Or maybe that is what he'd become in her head.

"You had a daughter?"

Sammy glanced up to his eyes when he spoke, then she glanced down at the top of Ellie's head, her fair locks were covered in a pink knitted beanie hat.

"Does the hat give it away?"

He smiled but there was no humour, "I suppose. She's ok?"

That was a loaded question. They were about to be homeless, that was hardly 'ok', but as babies went she was healthy, she was happy and she was growing.

"She's good. She's called Eleanor, after my gran. But I call her Ellie."

She loosened the sling a little; it was hot for the baby when they were both wrapped up in it.

"It's a pretty name."

Nodding she threw herself in headfirst, "you were supposed to be godfather. That's what Marcus wanted..." she gulped, he'd not known about her, but he'd always said that was what he wanted when they had wistful talks about the future. "What he would have wanted." She corrected more quietly.

Joel turned away at that, and she was glad, it had hurt more than she wanted to admit, to think of that. The man in front of her was an indelible link to Marcus, and she wasn't sure she could control her tears around him.