itty couldn’t speak, she was so shocked. This had not gone the way she had planned it. The plan was for Richie’s novel to be rejected, to have a firm letter of rejection written out to him so that she could personally deliver it and thereby deliver the same dagger through his heart that he had stabbed her with. But it was all going terribly wrong. They actually liked it – how could this be? He was going to be a published author and that was her revenge?

Kitty needed time to herself to deal with her revenge mess-up so she disappeared to her bedroom to gather herself together. She also needed to think about what they could achieve tomorrow and what the events of today meant for her story. There were twin beds in the small room, with a basin in the corner and a bathroom down the hall to share with the rest of the guests. Instead of trying to sort out her problems all she could think of was Steve, how she and he would be in the same room, how excited she was about that, not that she was expecting something to happen, though she had to admit there was certainly a change between them over the past few days, or was that just her? Was she projecting her feelings for him onto him when in reality nothing about his feelings for her had changed at all? Kitty’s track record with men was not good recently. She had dated some nice men who had been good to her in the past, but over the last few weeks, between Richie and Pete, Kitty’s neediness and desire to be accepted had sent her into the arms of the wrong men. She didn’t feel that she was wrong to have feelings for Steve. He was solid, he had always been there, he wasn’t some guy she knew nothing about, somebody who could suddenly surprise her in the morning with a wife and four kids or a penchant for prostitutes. She knew everything about him, everything.

There was a knock on the door and she heard Steve call her name. Her heart went into a frenzy and she could barely think, could barely hold a focused thought in her mind.

She opened the door.

‘You okay?’ he asked, looking at her oddly.

‘Yes, why?’ Her voice came out a squeak.

‘Because you’ve clearly turned into Tweety Pie.’ He picked up on her pitch. He pushed open the door and went inside. ‘What’s this place like, then?’ He surveyed the room and sat down on the bed on the left. He bounced on it lightly and the springs squeaked mightily.

They smiled at each other, and Kitty had to look away, feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush.

‘What’s up?’ he said more gently and she sat down opposite him on the second twin bed.

‘I just got a phone call from someone with bad news.’

He looked concerned.

‘I sent someone’s unedited novel into a publisher to surprise them and, well, it didn’t go according to plan.’

‘Rejection is the nature of the game. You’ll just have to tell your friend to get used to it.’

‘It wasn’t rejected. And it wasn’t a friend,’ she said sulkily.

‘Whose novel was it?’

‘Richie Daly’s,’ she said glumly. ‘Go on, tell me you told me so. That I’m a horrible person, that I shouldn’t have done it. I know I shouldn’t have, okay? I just found his USB, I knew it was his stupid novel that he was so proud of, assumed it would be a load of crap, just like all his writing is, and thought I’d have a nice fancy rejection letter to send him. So I’m a terrible person, I know!’

The corners of Steve’s lips twitched.

‘Don’t … even … think … of …’

He smiled.

‘It’s not funny.’

‘It is kind of funny.’

‘Steve, it’s not funny,’ Kitty protested, but the look on his face made her laugh with frustration. ‘Oh God, I can’t even do vengeance properly any more. I’ve lost it, I’ve lost my mean streak, and it’s all your fault.’

‘Really?’

She swallowed, not wanting to meet his eye. ‘Well, no, yes, well, you were very vocal in telling me exactly who I’d become and I realised I didn’t like that very much, so yeah … What you say matters to me,’ she swallowed hard and decided to go for it, cringing and meaning it in equal amounts, ‘you matter to me.’

He had that look. Oh God, he had that look. Her insides turned to mush again.

There was a knock on the door.

‘Ignore it,’ Steve said firmly, and Kitty had every intention of obeying him right then. Whatever he wanted, whatever he said.

But the knocking persisted.

Steve shook his head.

She sat there, a grin spreading on her face.

‘Hey, guys,’ they heard Sam’s voice, ‘are you in there?’

Kitty had to stand up, but Steve dived for her and pinned her down on the bed.

‘I told you not to move,’ he whispered, his hair hanging down and tickling her face, as they were practically nose to nose.

‘Eh, if you’re in there, I’d really appreciate your help.’ He sounded anxious. Kitty’s eyes looked at the door quickly, then up at Steve.

‘I think I preferred it when you were a shit reporter,’ he whispered and climbed off her.

She laughed and tidied herself before opening the door.

‘Sam, hi,’ she said. ‘Sorry for the delay.’

Sam looked from Kitty to Steve but was so caught up in his own dilemma he didn’t notice anything odd. He walked straight into their room.

‘I take it you spoke to Mary-Rose.’

‘You knew?’

‘Well, she never said anything but I could tell.’

‘Tell what?’ Steve asked, from where he lay back on his own twin bed.

‘That she has feelings for him,’ Kitty said.

‘Oh, yeah, I could tell that.’

‘You could?’

‘Of course, it’s obvious.’

‘Shit.’ Sam sat on the bed, still in shock. ‘I’m such an idiot. I can’t believe I said all of those things. I had no idea …’

‘What did you say to her?’ Kitty asked, concerned now.

‘Well, what could I say? I had no idea. I was so surprised, I just said I had to take it all in and think about it.’

Steve sucked in air.

‘Think about it?’ Kitty asked.

‘Well, what was I supposed to say?’ He looked from one to the other.

‘That you feel the same way too,’ Steve said, but he wasn’t looking at Sam, he was looking at Kitty.

‘But I don’t know if I do. I mean, I adore her, she’s my best friend, I’d do anything for her, I’ve just never thought of her in that way.’

‘Yeah, well, start thinking about it, buddy,’ Steve said.

‘But is it possible, for us, after being friends—’

‘Yes,’ Steve and Kitty said in unison. They caught each other’s eyes and smiled.

Sam looked at them both again, studied them, glancing from one to the other, and Kitty thought he’d finally got it, that the penny had finally dropped, that he would leave them in peace.

‘Do you mind if I sleep in here tonight and you sleep with Mary-Rose? She won’t let me in the room and they’ve no more rooms left,’ he said.

Those words Kitty did not want to hear. She wanted to say no, she was so frustrated, thinking of the possibilities of what could have happened that night, in that terribly squeaky bed. She looked at Steve and he was silently smothering himself with a pillow. Kitty laughed.

‘Sure, Sam. You can have my bed. Just don’t snore or your room-mate will take your life.’

After the events of the day were eventually quietening in Kitty’s head, she felt herself finally drifting closer to sleep when the sound of music coming from outside brought her to the surface again.

She looked across at Mary-Rose who had finally fallen asleep after shedding buckets of tears, then she got out of bed and padded across the creaking floor to see outside.

‘Mary-Rose,’ she hissed at her sleeping room-mate. ‘You have to see this!’

Mary-Rose groggily raised herself onto her elbows and looked around the room, confused as to where she was.

‘Look!’ Kitty said, louder now, excited.

Mary-Rose finally registered the music, got out of bed and joined her at the window. It took her a moment, as it did for Kitty to take the scene in. Slowly, a smile crawled onto her face and she looked at Kitty with delight.

‘Let’s get down there.’

Kitty threw on the clothes she had abandoned before getting into bed and ran downstairs, out of the guesthouse and out onto the road. The night was still, the small town completely shut down, everybody at home and in bed. Above them the clear sky twinkled with a million stars.

St Margaret’s bus had been moved from the car park, and was parked in the middle of the road, blocking off most of it, not that there was any traffic to stop. Its headlights were on full and the engine was running with the windows down. The headlights were pointing directly into the old ballroom, the doors had been opened up, the smell of must and damp drifted out from the abandoned barn, which had been the setting for so many of Birdie’s dance nights.

Dancing in the shadows was Birdie, her eyes closed, her chin lifted to the sky as she twirled round and round, her arms in the air as if dancing with an invisible dance partner to Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong’s ‘Dream a Little Dream of Me’.

Eva was sitting behind the wheel of the bus, holding the bus’s microphone to the speaker of the CD player, and standing beside the headlights of the bus were Edward and Molly.

Kitty was entranced by the scene before her. Leaving Mary-Rose, who was equally enchanted, she climbed aboard the bus.

‘You did this?’ Kitty asked Eva.

‘She told me she and Jamie used to break in and dance here at night. This was their favourite song. It’s a late birthday present,’ she said, her eyes filling as she watched Birdie dancing alone in the old ballroom.

As they were watching Birdie dancing alone, Kitty noticed Molly and Edward in the darkness holding each other close as they slowly circled to the music. Kitty believed she had just witnessed Eva’s magic.