I sit on the doorstep and hug my knees.  The vast trees that surround Summer Haze look majestic lording over all that they survey. Their leaves wave in the breeze and play peekaboo with the filter of the sun against my cheeks; warm to cool then back again.  I try to adjust my weary eyes from the bright light to dim shadow but it makes my lashes flutter as I squint down the sweep of the driveway. Perhaps Harry just popped out somewhere? Despite me willing his car to appear into view, the vista in front of me remains unchanged.

I place my head in my hands. Why the hell did he leave? Why didn't he wait? Why didn't he call me? Why was he so annoyed at me? Why, why, why? Rubbing my eyes, I pull in a deep breath and release it slowly before getting to my feet.

I retrieve the spare house key from its hidey-hole. Turning the lock, the pierce of the alarm drags me out of my despondency. I push the door ajar but teeter on the threshold. My feet so firmly rooted on the doormat it causes me to almost topple over until I grab hold of the frame for support.

Once steady, I look up to the familiarity that greets me. The waxed parquet floor is polished to a shine; the intricate red and gold design of the Persian style runner; the sweet perfume of just picked freesias from the jug in the kitchen. Every scent all bar one. His. It is like he was never here. Wait. Perhaps I am still at the hospital and asleep in the chair and subconsciously dreaming all of this because I did not call him. No, it is no dream. He was here and now he is not. He has really gone without me.

I rest my heavy head on one side, cupping my flushed cheek within my clammy palm. Perhaps he left a note? I scan the scene with a hope that is quickly diminished.  Only the wink of the little red light on the answerphone draws me towards it.

"Hi, Aidan Cooper from Sovereign Exec. Apologies for contacting you direct Harry but I'm unable to reach Emma and this is the only other number I have for you. It was just to confirm the cancellation today. Sorry we couldn't reschedule for later. Another time perhaps. Speak soon Harry. Bye for now."

I have no idea who or what that is about. Dejected, I slump down in the hall chair and rest my head back against the wall. My brain is in questioning overdrive but no answers are forthcoming. I am so exhausted I cannot think straight.  This is no good. I shake my head to dispel my dysphoria.

In the kitchen, I grab a glass and fill it with water then down the liquid in one.  Right, deep breath, compose yourself Lily. Two options. One, let him get on with it and remain here stewing and being pissed at him for trying to make you choose him over your best friend in need. Two, get down to London and tell him you are pissed at him.  I drum my fingers on the countertop then fill the glass again and swig it down. Option two it is then!

Automatic pilot ensues. I head upstairs. I really need a shower but I cannot allow myself any opportunity to be still and overthink. I throw a few last minute things into my already half-packed case, change, clean my teeth and with a little charge now on my phone I call a taxi.  I decide not to call Harry; I will be seeing him in a few hours anyway. With the door shut and the key safely back in its hiding place, I leave.

With this spur of the moment not overthinking it scheme of mine, I cut it very fine. The train is already waiting but despite the rush, I manage to buy my ticket, find my seat and just about get settled as it pulls away from Oxenholme station.

As the wheels begin to race towards  full capacity, I start composing a garbled message to Harry. Before it even makes any semblance of sense, my phone battery dies once more. Damn. The full train and my late arrival means no available charging points. I rummage through my bag in an attempt to find my portable charger.  Frustrated, I scatter the contents across the table – change sandwiched in-between the pages of my notebook rolls over the shiny surface along with a tampon that I just manage to stop from falling into the lap of the man opposite me. My array of tablets pile up, shit I haven't taken my tablets today, keys clink against each other, screwed up receipts, an old tissue - every item but the damn charger.  I shove the contents haphazardly back in my bag and wrestle to close the zip. 

I slam my phone down on the table a little too aggressively, causing the man opposite to peer at me over the top of his specs. It is then I notice all three passengers around me eyeing each other. They probably think I am a mad woman. I smile half-heartedly.  Now I am still, I ask myself what am I doing?  Perhaps I am really a mad woman.  I don't do this type of thing. I think and over analyse and weigh up options. Stop Lily. Just sleep. I rest my head back and let the rhythm of the train lull me to where I prefer to be; free of any chance to think.

-*-

The burly man next to me repeatedly knocks my arm as he wriggles in his seat. Thanks for waking me up! It is probably his way of indicating he wants to get up. Shall I pretend to still be asleep and make him wait or be kind and put him out of his misery?

"Ladies and gentlemen. This is your guard speaking. We will shortly be arriving at London Euston. Please ensure you take all your personal belongings with you and may we wish you safe onward travel. Thank you for travelling with this Virgin train service today."

What the...? I adjust my droopy eyelids to find said passenger gathering his belongings together. The London skyline meanders by out of the window beside him.  As soon as he notices I am awake he motions to me that he wants to get up. I oblige then slide back into my seat and return to staring out at the grey sky rolling by that is soon replaced by platforms as we pull into Euston.  

The flurry of eagerness to get off the train soon diminishes, replaced by the quiet of the now nearly empty carriage. All that remains of the journey is the well-thumbed newspaper left discarded on the seat and a disposable coffee cup-overflowing bin. Coffee, I need one.

I step off the train and the contrast of the warmth inside the carriage to the busy outside is immediately glaring.  The din of conversations are broken by muffled announcements, echoes of footsteps, train doors slamming shut, whistles indicating it is time to depart, goodbyes and hugs, hellos and hugs. Chaos.  Welcome to London, Lily.

Am I the only one who notices these little things? As everyone hurries around me, they appear oblivious to it in their own worlds. Perhaps it is because I am alone and not rushing that this is evident.  Perhaps it is because this place is bringing back memories from when I was a child.  

I have not been to London since I was young and my Dad worked and lived in the Capital for a time. We would visit him once every couple of months for the weekend. Mum took Nathalie and I to see all the touristy sights but for all his good intentions, Dad's time with us was always interrupted by work. Dad was apologetic but Mum would get upset then angry. They would argue and then we would leave, in most cases early. In the end I could never figure out why we even bothered to come.

One of my case wheels sticks in a dip on the worn station concourse and as it beings to topple over, it brings me back to reality. Take your time Lily I remind myself and go in search for the nearest coffee shop.

The queue at Caffe Nero is long but with refreshment in hand, I luckily find a recently vacated seat with a socket point. Hallelujah! Before I even have a chance to empty the sugar sachet into the cup, messages light up; one from Mum wishing me a safe drive and to call her when I arrive, one from Olive thanking me and saying she is glad to be home, and the latest one from Harry with an apology and to please call him.

I take a gulp of the hot liquid and it burns the roof of my mouth making me wince.  I decide to dial his number for the second time today. I have no idea how this is going to go but I have no energy for a fight. I have done what I think is right for Olive and now Harry and I am here now so.....

"Hi Lily."

My breath catches in my throat hearing his soft uncertain rasp reverberate down the line. "Hi."

"You sound tired," he is quick to respond.  

"Yeah, I've been asle...."

"I didn't wake you up did I?"  He interrupts with concern in his tone.

"No." I shake my head into the phone. "I was already awake."

"How's Olive?"

"She's devastated but her parents arrived earlier than planned so I left them to it."

"That's understandable, on both counts, I mean."  His whole demeanour is tentative and I see no point in scooting around the real issue.  

"Harry, why did you leave without me?"

He pauses before answering, "I dunno. The plans changed and I couldn't get my head around it." 

"So you feel I should have put you before Olive. Is that it?" I could just tell him I am in London and to come get me but something inside tells me we need to have this conversation now, not later on.

"No. Yes. I don't know. Today was a big deal for me, for us I mean." He confesses, honestly.

"I know but given the same situation again, I would do exactly the same. Harry, Olive needed me more than you in that moment. Can't you see that?" I can feel myself almost pleading for him to get it so we don't have to argue over it anymore.

"Look, I overreacted. Apprehension and tiredness are not excuses I know."

"All you had to do was talk to me rather than make me feel guilty."

"Beautiful, I know I need to open up more.  I always find adjusting hard at first but it'll pass quickly once I'm back into the thick of it."

"One day at a time." I reassure him.  "So, what time did you arrive back in London?"

He hesitates.  "Oh, I'm not back yet."

"Still driving? Traffic must be bad. What time do you think you'll arrive?"  I ask, obliviously.  

"Umm, I'm not going to London today now."

"What do you mean? I thought it was urgent you came to London today?" I question.

"Yes and no." He sits on the fence.

"Well which one is it because I am really confused right now. You say you have to get back because you have things to take care of TODAY. You leave without me and now you aren't even here." I am conscious my pitch has raised, gaining a few glares from people around me. "Where are you?"

"You said here?"

"What?" I snap.

"You said 'you aren't even here.' Where are you?"

"London, Harry, I'm in London.  So again, where are you?" I repeat, already not liking his answer.

"In Holmes Chapel."