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“Could you be a bit more specific?” Pen asked. “Because there’s filters and stuff and there’s one for hair color, but none for kindness, I’m afraid.”

Pen’s phone was already in her hand. “Wait, we’re doing this now?” Lucy asked.

“No time like the present, is there?” Pen asked. “You said you’re looking, so let’s look, get you out there, be proactive.”

Lucy’s heart beat a bit harder. “Yeah, I suppose,” she said. “I’ve got to be at the newsagents in a few minutes though for my shift.”

“Well, unless you’re not sure about looking for someone and you’re romanticizing this all a bit?” Pen asked.

“No,” said Lucy, a smile spreading over her face. “No. Let’s do this. I’m ready to meet my Prince Charming. Well, princess, I suppose.”

“Decisions then,” said Pen. “Hair? Eyes?”

“Yes to both.”

Pen stuck her tongue out. “You know what I mean.”

Lucy groaned. “Fine. Long, blonde hair, I suppose. Dark eyes. Tall.”

And Pen started typing.

Chapter Five

Cal slicked back her short, dark hair in the mirror and buttoned the last button on her shirt. She’d do. It was too hot to pull on her normal leather jacket, besides, she supposed the bike was as safe as it was going to get in the pub car park.

Her stomach growled with hunger as she went downstairs. The pub did offer breakfast, but as she looked around she saw no one in the bar area. And it felt a bit Billy-no-mates to sit and wait all alone by herself.

Not that she should care about what other people thought of her. Not that she did care. Except… except being back in town was making her feel things she thought she couldn’t feel anymore.

Which was a shame, since she’d spent quite a long time burying things that she didn’t want to think about.

She let herself out into the bright sunshine and walked away from the pub toward the high street. If it was still there, there should be a small cafe overlooking the seafront, she could get food there. And then, well, then she’d better do what she’d come here to do, she supposed.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want all of this to be over with. She very much did. The thought of opening that front door though. The thought of the familiar smell wafting out, the stairs hulking up in the darkness, the scratches on the kitchen table. They allmade her feel a bit… woozy, she supposed.

Not a feeling she was used to.

There, the cafe was still there. She marched up to the door not hesitating for a second before pushing it open. But the moment she did, she felt the silence fall like a broken tree, complete and sudden, shocking her so that she froze in the doorway.

There were about a dozen or so people inside, all seated at tables, and every single eye was on her.

She forced herself to take a step, and then another, and then one more until she was next to an empty table. Then she slid into the booth and everyone was still watching her. She picked up a menu, reading until slowly, slowly, the other customers turned back to their own conversations.

Cal’s ears burned hot.

She should have known better than to come here. Especially at this time. Who had time to linger over breakfast in a cafe on a weekday other than the chronically unemployable and the retired? People who were definitely old enough to not only think they knew what had happened, but old enough to know her mother.

“What’ll it be, love?”

Cal looked up to see a waitress, chewing gum, pad in her hand, barely old enough to drive, let alone know who she was. Thank all the gods for the young, she thought. She’d have to try and surround herself with people fifteen years younger than herself.

Mind you, that’d send the wrong impression, wouldn’t it? The last thing she needed was to be branded a pervert as well as…. Well, as well as what people were already saying.

“You want something or not?” the waitress asked impatiently.

Cal frowned at the menu. “Bacon sandwich?” she offered.

“Better make sure she pays first,” said a voice from the booth behind her.