had generally ignored it. It had taken being spectacularly separated from it to make her realise how precious it really was.
After another minute she was ready to take her eyes off the dirt and focus on the horizon. The sight of the base of the great crane made her feel all fluttery again.
Had it really been Josh up there?
She deliberately kept her gaze level with the skyline, the sparkling office blocks and grand old buildings that dared to reach heavenwards. The bungee cord was free of any weight and swung aimlessly in the breeze. It must be over. She dragged herself to standing and brushed the grit off her bottom and the backs of her thighs with a few quick swipes of her hands.
That voice in her ear, those hands around her waist—had they been real? Now she was back with her feet planted on the earth it seemed like a half-remembered dream. She must have conjured the image up, been subconsciously taken back in time to a similar incident when he’d been there to help her. Funnily enough, in comparison, the memory of the diving board incident was fresh and clear: Bournemouth, over twenty years ago. That day, an unsuspecting eleven-year-old boy had won the eternal admiration of one small girl.
The murmur of voices behind her disturbed her thoughts. She put her hands on her hips and stared up at the crane.
He still had it. Her admiration. That and a bucketload more.
But she hadn’t seen Josh in more than a year and he was more likely in Timbuktu or Bora Bora, working to put One Life Travel more firmly on the map. His mother was always boasting about her son’s new millionaire status and the last time the Adamses and the Chamberses had had a get-together—without Josh, of course—Pauline had been full of Josh’s new venture. Now, by helping charities organise and run expeditions, he could help hundreds of people every day, not only the people who took part in the expeditions, giving them an experience of a lifetime, but also the charities they raised money for.
Not that people really thought about raising money for an organisation. They thought about the people. People like Ryan. Wasn’t that why she was here today? Why she’d agreed to this stupid challenge of Lisette’s?
Thinking of stupid challenges and raising money, it was high time she made her way over to the registration table and got a signature to confirm she’d done the bungee jump. Then Lisette could go and collect all that cleavage-induced sponsor money. She smiled to herself. She was really looking forward to seeing Lisette’s face when she handed her the form.
Above the general hum of conversation she heard a voice. ‘Fern?’
It must be Simon. She wasn’t surprised he’d come scurrying over as soon as he could. She pushed her hair out of her eyes and turned round, bracing herself for the squelch.
She was most magnificently disappointed as a fully-fledged zap hit her straight between the eyes.
Josh Adams! It had been real after all. Her mouth opened and closed.
As always, he knew just what to do and gathered her up into the most enormous bear-hug. Tears sprang to her eyes as the overwhelming ache of months spent missing him without properly realising it crashed over her. She buried her face in his shoulder, letting his T-shirt absorb the moisture.
A gentle cough somewhere to their right disturbed them.
Fern pulled out of Josh’s arms, although their eyes were locked on each other and they were both grinning like maniacs. ‘Simon, meet my old friend Josh,’ she said, still staring and still doing the maniac thing.
Josh gave her a wink and tore his gaze away to look at Simon and offered him his hand. Fern turned to look at him too. Yep, there was the squelch she’d been expecting. It didn’t even hit her right between the eyes. It just kind of wafted towards her half-heartedly and landed in a blob at her feet.
‘Nice to meet you,’ Josh said as he released Simon’s hand. ‘Are you Fern’s…?’
Simon, who had been looking uncharacteristically tense round the jaw, brightened and opened his mouth to speak.
‘Friend!’ she blurted out, before he had a chance to mouth the first syllable. ‘Simon is a really good friend of mine. He did most of the organisation for the bungee jump.’
Josh clapped him on the shoulder with the flat of his hand and almost sent Simon flying. ‘Good man. In that case, let’s get over there and sign these forms so the money can start rolling in. After that—’he looked at Fern and her tummy did a triple-flip ‘—I’m taking you out for coffee so we can catch up on the last few months.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘Try eighteen.’
He frowned. ‘Has it really been that long?’
She nodded and gave him a rueful smile. How could she forget that Christmas at the Adams’s when he’d come home with the awful Amber? The darn woman had hardly been able to leave him alone. It had been embarrassing to watch her grope him over—and probably under—the table while they’d had Christmas lunch. Not that Josh had seemed to mind. Yes, that had been the year Fern had gone home early with a migraine.
He frowned again. ‘In that case, I’d better buy you a really big coffee.’
‘That’s more like it. One with syrup in and whipped cream on top.’
Josh pulled a face, but she was undeterred. She was feeling rather fuzzy and low blood sugar was as good an explanation as any. Truth was she’d have drunk river water if it would give her a chance to spend a little more time with him before he dashed off to the next far-flung place. They’d been close once. Almost like brother and sister. Almost.
They had the kind of bond that didn’t require constant telephone messages or texts, or even letters—and you could forget Christmas cards. She doubted Josh even had a list—but she’d seen too little of him in the last few years. It would be nice to have a chance to talk to someone who remembered Ryan.
Almost two decades had passed since her brother had died and the friends she’d known at the time were somebody else’s friends now. And there was no point taking a trip down memory lane with her parents. They still found the whole subject far too distressing.
‘Come on, then,’ she said, tugging at his arm. ‘There’s a nice little coffee shop down by the river.’
Josh saluted her, then turned to smile at Simon. ‘Don’t you just love it when she gets all bossy like this?’
Simon opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. In the end, he just nodded. ‘Bye,’ he croaked as they disappeared off the brown field site and joined the jostling city again.
Fern stood behind Josh in the queue at the coffee shop and tried desperately not to slide into a time warp where she was a shy thirteen-year-old harbouring a desperate crush on the boy next door. Unrequited, of course.
You’re a grown woman now, she told herself. Enough.
But all her stern warnings couldn’t banish the giddy feeling in her tummy when he turned round, winked and handed her a cardboard cup with a plastic lid. ‘There you go. One large mocha with whipped cream.’
The giddiness upgraded itself into proper vertigo and she hadn’t even got the sugar rush from the chocolate yet.
‘Thanks.’
She knew what would happen now. She would drop her coffee, dribble it down her front or tip it all over him. Josh had always had this effect on her—at least since she’d had hormones in sufficient numbers for them to short-circuit her coordination. Since then, the warm, safe feeling she’d always got when he’d been around was counterbalanced with a jittery nervousness.
He’d always teased her for being clumsy, but the truth was she was only ever like it around him. And, after fifteen years of beating her hormones into submission, they had decided to stage one last revolt. Little traitors.
‘Let’s walk,’ he said, nodding towards the door. She readily agreed. Morning coffee was blending into