Dickinson - The Day We Meet Again

Family secrets, forgiveness, unlikely friendships and learning to love again a story that touched my heart

Cathy Bramley

A sparky feel-good story that hits all the right buttons

Fanny Blake

Original and hilarious and life-affirming, and full of magical moments

Cressida McLaughlin

Full of charm, warmth, wit and wonder

Rowan Coleman

Sparkling, romantic, feel-good

Julie Cohen

Fun and life-affirming

Fabulous magazine

A sweet story perfect for a rainy afternoon!

Bella

Romance, written with a light-hearted touch; I was hooked

Woman & Home

Enchanting and captivating

The Sun

A heart-warming delight

Good Housekeeping

MIRANDA is the author of ten books, including six Sunday Times bestsellers. Her books have been translated into seven languages and have made the bestseller charts in four countries. She has been shortlisted twice for the RNA awards (for Novel of the Year in 2010 with Fairytale of New York and again in 2012 for Contemporary Novel of the Year for It Started With a Kiss). She has now sold over a million copies of her books worldwide.

Somewhere Beyond the Sea

Searching for a Silver Lining

A Parcel for Anna Browne

Ill Take New York

Take a Look at Me Now

When I Fall in Love

It Started With a Kiss

Welcome to My World

Fairytale of New York

The Day We Meet Again

Miranda Dickinson

ONE PLACE. MANY STORIES

An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2019

Copyright Miranda Dickinson 2019

Miranda Dickinson asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the authors imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition August 2019 ISBN: 978-0-008-32322-6

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For Bob and Flo

my two curly-headed serendipities and proof that

life is endlessly surprising. I love you to the moon

and back and twice around the stars xx

Take chances, make mistakes.

Thats how you grow.

Mary Tyler Moore

14th June 2017

A LL TRAINS DELAYED, the sign reads.

No, no, no! This cant be happening!

I stare up at the departure board in disbelief. Up until twenty minutes ago my train had been listed as ON TIME and Id allowed myself a glass of champagne at St Pancras Eurostar bar, a little treat to steady my nerves before the biggest adventure of my life begins.

Looks like we arent going anywhere soon, the woman next to me says, gold chains tinkling on her wrist as she raises her hand for another glass. She doesnt look in a hurry to go anywhere.

But I am.

I arrived at St Pancras two hours early this morning. The guys driving the cleaning trucks were pretty much the only people here when I walked in. They performed a slow, elegant dance around me as I dragged my heavy bag across the shiny station floor. I probably should have had a last lie-in, but my stomach has been a knot of nerves since last night, robbing me of sleep.

Im not always early, but I was determined to be today to make sure I actually get on the train. I want this adventure more than anything else in my life, but doubts have crept in over the last two weeks, ever since all the tickets were booked and my credit card had taken the strain. Even last night frustratingly wide awake and watching a film I didnt really care about, after the farewell drinks in our favourite pub in Notting Hill when I was so certain I was doing the right thing I found myself considering shelving the trip. Who jacks in everything and takes off for a year, anyway? Certainly not me: Phoebe Jones, 32 years old and most definitely not gap-year material.

It wasnt just that thing Gabe said, either. Although it threw me when it happened. After all his bravado inside the pub the You wont go through with it, Phoebs, I know you speech that in his actors voice rose above the noise and look-at-me-Im-so-important laughter from the tables around us the change in him when he found me on the street outside was a shock.

Ill miss you.

You wont, but thanks.

And then that look the one that got us into trouble once before, the one that has kept me wondering if it might again. Then you dont know me, Phoebs. London wont be the same without you.

Why did he have to launch that at me, the night before I leave for a whole year?

But the money is spent. The tickets are in my wallet. My bag is packed. And Gabe is wrong if he thinks I wont go through with it. I know my friends privately think Ill cave in and come home early. So I got up hours before I needed to this morning, took my bag, closed the door on my old life and posted my keys through the letterbox for my friends and former flatmates to find. And Im here, where Gabe was so certain I wouldnt be.

But now theres a delay and thats dangerous for me. Too much time to think better of my plan. Why is the universe conspiring against me today?

Having another? the woman next to me asks. Her new glass of champagne is already half empty. Perhaps she has the right idea. Maybe drinking your way through a delay is the best option.

I dont think so, thanks, I reply. I cant stay here, not until I know exactly what kind of delay Im facing. Im going to find out whats happening.

The woman shrugs as I leave.

The whole of St Pancras station seems to have darkened, as though a storm cloud has blown in from the entrance and settled in the arcing blue-girdered roof. Beyond the glass the sun shines as brightly as before, the sky a brave blue. But I feel the crackle of tension like approaching thunder.

At the end of the upper concourse near the huge statue of a man and woman embracing, a crowd has gathered. Somewhere in the middle, a harassed station employee in an orange hi-vis gilet is doing his best to fend off the angry mobs questions. And then, without warning, the crowd begins to move. Im almost knocked over and stagger back to stop myself falling. Being trampled to death is definitely not in the plan today.