“Leaving so soon, darling? Remember me…”
Victor pulled the car over near a tall metal fence. It used to be a white picket fence, he recalled. For a moment, he doubted if he had the right place. No—second house before the turn. He remembered it clearly because he’d thought of it often. From the car window, he couldn’t even see the roof.
He kept checking the mirrors to see if anyone was coming. A lone driver lingering on a quiet street would draw too much attention. “What am I doing here? Why?” he kept asking himself. The longer he sat there, staring at that fence, the less courage he had to step out.
Then the gate swung open, and a girl stepped out with a Labrador. At first glance, Victor thought it was Alice. Same chestnut curls, same slender frame. He didn’t get a proper look at her face. “Impossible. It’s been fifteen years. Alice would be nearly forty, and this girl’s barely twenty. Modern anti-aging miracles, I suppose. Or—could this be her daughter? But she didn’t have one back then. Should I follow her? What would I even say? A forty-something man chasing a young woman down the street—how pathetic would that look?”
He slumped back in his seat, flicked on the radio, and waited. Twenty minutes later, the girl and the dog reappeared around the corner. As she got closer, he realised she looked nothing like Alice. When she was a hundred yards away, he got out of the car.
The Labrador strained at the leash, lunging toward him.
“Easy, Max,” the girl said, tugging him back.
“Sorry. Did Alice used to live here? Or—maybe I’ve got the wrong house,” Victor said, suddenly realising he’d never even known her surname.
“Alice is my mum. Who are you?” She studied him with faint suspicion.
“Just visiting town again. Didn’t know she had a daughter.” He hesitated, eyeing the dog before stepping closer.
“How long’s it been since you were last here?” She tilted her head slightly.
“Fifteen years.”
“Well, you definitely can’t be my father, then.” She laughed at her own joke. “I’m not her birth daughter, by the way. Mum and Dad will be back soon. Fancy waiting?” She gestured to a narrow door beside the gate.
Victor shrugged.
“Aren’t you nervous? Letting a stranger in…” he started.
She turned serious. “No. Why’d you assume the house is empty? Max wouldn’t let anything happen. Plus, we’ve got cameras. So—coming?” She held the door open.
Victor locked the car and followed. She waited, holding the door as he stepped through.
The garden leading up to the two-storey house was tidy but not manicured. Bushes had a wilder trim, the grass needed cutting. A wide path of grey stone slabs led from the gate.
The house had clearly changed over the years, but it was unmistakably the same one. Fifteen years ago, it had seemed enormous to him—back when he’d lived in a cramped dorm room, or before that, squeezed into a tiny council flat with his parents and little sister. Back then, this place had felt like a palace. Now, he lived in one just like it, bigger even.
The interior had been far humbler back then. Now, expensive furniture lined the rooms, tastefully arranged. A massive telly hung on the wall. A thick carpet muffled his footsteps.
“Want a drink? There’s a bar over there,” the girl said, nodding toward the corner before heading upstairs.
“I’m driving,” Victor reminded her. “What’s your name?”
“Emily. I’ll just be a minute—need to change.” She vanished upstairs.
Left alone, Victor glanced around. No photos on the shelves. He sank into an armchair by the fireplace—another new addition—and let his mind wander.
***
“Come on, mate, you’ve got to come with me. Jean’s bringing a friend. What am I supposed to do, sit there like a lemon on my own?” Rob pleaded.
“Got an exam tomorrow. Need to study,” Victor muttered, nose buried in his textbook.
“A couple of hours won’t change a thing. You’ll never cram it all in anyway. Better to walk in fresh. Come on, Vic, please. Jean’s mates are always fit,” Rob pressed.
“Fine. But not for long.” Victor slammed the book shut.
“That’s more like it. You’re a legend. Trust me, you won’t regret it. Just don’t get any ideas about Jean—she’s mine,” Rob warned.
They arrived at the gated community where Rob’s girlfriend lived, slightly late. Music pulsed inside. A bottle of wine, glasses, a cheeseboard, and a fruit bowl sat on the coffee table.
“What took you so long?” Jean pouted. She was striking—jet-black hair, sharp cheekbones, effortlessly glamorous.
“Had to drag this one kicking and screaming. Exam tomorrow,” Rob said, pulling her close and whispering in her ear.
“Well, no point wasting time then,” Jean said, her irritation melting into a smirk as she dragged Rob toward the table. “Pour us a drink. Alice! Where are you?” she called toward the stairs.
A moment later, a girl in a simple floral dress descended. She wasn’t as striking as Jean, but Victor felt drawn to her instantly.
“This is my friend Alice,” Jean introduced before cranking up the music.
They drank. Rob and Jean disappeared to dance.
“Shall we?” Victor asked, popping a grape into his mouth.
“Sure. And drop the ‘miss’—just Alice is fine,” she said plainly.
She was a good dancer. With his hands on her waist, Victor studied her face. No makeup. Her dark blue eyes flicked up to his now and then, framed by thick lashes. Depending on the light, they seemed black as river depths or bright as cornflowers. He avoided staring at her lips.
The music changed, but they kept swaying slowly.
“Where’d Jean and Rob go?” Alice stopped and glanced around.
The couple had vanished. Alone now, an awkward tension settled between them.
“I should go. And you’ve got your exam,” Alice said.
“I’ll walk you,” Victor offered.
They barely spoke on the way.
“Wait—” Victor caught her arm as she pushed the unlocked gate open. “See you tomorrow?”
“Maybe,” she said, pulling free and darting inside.
“Do you—” He wanted to ask for her number, but she was already gone.
He walked back to halls, thoughts full of her. Those eyes, the way her waist felt under his hands in the dance. Rob stumbled in just before dawn.
Rob scraped a pass; Victor aced the exam. “Lucky question. Alice brought me luck,” he thought.
“So? Make a move? She’s not bad, you know. I wouldn’t say no myself,” Rob grinned as they walked back.
“What did you just say?” Victor stopped dead, yanking Rob around to face him.
Rob shrank under the glare. Scrawny and shorter, he stood no chance. His eyes darted nervously.
“Easy, mate! Joking! Jean’s all I need,” he backtracked.
“Better had,” Victor let go.
They walked the rest of the way in silence. Rob crashed into bed. Victor drove back to the gated community. No Alice number—and he wasn’t asking Rob. Daylight made everything look different, but he found the house by the fence. The gate was still unlocked.
He knocked. Alice answered in a short, plain dressing gown. She looked effortlessly cosy, and his breath caught.
“Come in. Exam go okay?” she asked, stepping aside.
“Fine,” he croaked.
The house was far plainer than Jean’s. Smaller, too.
“You alone?” Victor asked, pretending to study the decor instead of the dip of her gown.
“Yeah. Parents won’t be back till evening.” She said it casually. “Hungry?”
“No,” he lied, though he hadn’t eaten since yesterday.
“Tea, then?”
He thought he saw amusement in her eyes.
“Maybe… cinema?” he blurted, suddenly flustered by being alone with her.
Alice stepped closer, rested her hands on his shoulders like in the dance, and kissed him.
He left fifteen minutes before her parents returned. Walking home, he felt drunk. They met a few more times before exams ended.
Then his mum called—his dad was in hospital. Before leaving, Victor ran to say goodbye, but Alice wasn’t home. No answer. He left a note and left.
Time passed. No replies to letters or calls. He rang Rob, but he’d gone home too and knew nothing.
“Ask Jean—they’re friends,” Victor insisted, hurt by Alice’s silence.
But Rob said they’d split, and he wasn’t calling her.
His dad worsened. Paralyzed. Victor couldn’t leave his mum and little sister. They agreed he’d transfer to a local uni, work to support them.
He went back for his things. No RobVictor glanced at the bouquet of roses on the passenger seat, then tossed them out the window as he drove away, knowing some memories were better left buried in the past.
