Epilogue

SIX MONTHS LATER

“ A re you ready?” asked Seymour, looking at Kiera’s flushed face.

“I’ve been ready for months,” said Kiera, shifting from foot to foot.

“Well, I’ve got the champagne. All you need to do is get this party started.”

Kiera took a deep breath and walked forward, to the front door of the small terraced house that, as of twenty-five minutes ago, belonged to her. She took out the key, still with the estate agent’s keyring hanging from it, and slotted it into the door. It turned smoothly and the hallway glided into view.

“It’s not much,” said Kiera, “but it’s mine.”

“It’s everything,” Seymour told Kiera, wrapping her arms around her from behind. “It is all yours.”

In the end, it hadn’t taken long for Chrissie and Kiera to sell their old house. Neither of them really wanted to go back there after all that had happened, and it made sense to move on. They had split the proceeds in Kiera’s favour to make u p for the lost savings. Kiera didn’t know what Chrissie planned to do with what she had left, but this was what Kiera wanted. She wanted a home to call her own.

“I hope you like painting and wallpapering,” said Kiera.

“Ha, I thought you’d never ask. I think we may need to bring in some help for that.”

“Possibly,” observed Kiera, looking up at the walls and ceilings as she wandered through the property that had her name on the deeds.

“Did someone ask for help?” came a voice from outside the still open front door. Kiera turned in surprise. It was Lou.

“Yes! Definitely!” She gave Lou a huge hug in the hallway, then looked up, startled by a cough from the pavement. A moment later, they were joined by Clodagh and Charlie. “All of you came?”

“Of course,” said Clodagh. “We’re your gang, Kiera. Don’t forget it. Now then, where are the champagne glasses?”

“Oh God, I don’t have anything like that,” said Kiera.

“Wrong,” said Charlie. “I liberated these from the hospital kitchens. Who knew Marjorie had taste?” He handed round the elegant coupe glasses.

“Come on, hun, pop your cork,” said Lou with a giggle.

Kiera turned to Seymour and gave her a smile as she took the bottle and removed the foil. The cork erupted from the top with a satisfying sound, and her friends pushed forward their glasses to catch the foam.

“Thank you,” said Kiera. “All of you.” She could feel a lump forming in her throat. “My gang.” She felt Seymour’s hand on her shoulder.

“Cheers!” they all shouted together.

“And thank you,” said Kiera to Seymour in bed later that n ight. The moving van wasn’t due until the next day, but they had made do with a mattress and a pile of pillows, sheets and a luxurious duvet. She couldn’t bear to spend another night away from her new home, in spite of its bareness. “You were so patient when everything went so wrong.”

“You were worth being patient for,” replied Seymour, running a finger down the back of Kiera’s shoulder blade. Kiera shuddered, then laughed.

“This is my new life. And you’re part of it. So I have something for you.”

Seymour raised an eyebrow and gave a wicked grin. “You mean, in addition to what you gave me earlier this evening?”

“Ha, yes, in addition to that,” said Kiera, reddening at the thought. She reached into the pocket of her jeans, which were lying on the floor. “Here. This is for you. I know you have your flat, and I have my house, and now isn’t the time for that to change. But I want you to be able to come and go as you please to my little nest here. I want it to feel like your home, too.”

Seymour took the keyring in her hand. It had a coffee cup on it. “So I can slip into your bed any time I like?”

“So you can slip into my life any time you like.” Kiera kissed her. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”