Kayleigh leant on the windowsill of the box room at Mandy's house and craned her neck to look up and down the road, feeling hopeless and hopeful at the same time. The movement caught Steve's eye as he stood on the driveway below wiping the oil off his hands. He waved a greeting which she returned half-heartedly, a tight smile on her face.

When she stepped out of the house five minutes later he had returned to tinkering with his bike. The radio besides him was tuned to Forever FM, the DJ breathlessly announcing: 'Well I guess Zoe didn't have a leg to stand on with her answer of Stephen Hawking for 'Who's in the Toaster?', our legendary breakfast quiz. But here's someone who IS Still Standing - Mr Elton John...'

"Morning Kayleigh love. You're up early. You wet the bed or something?"

"Haha, you're so funny," she deadpanned.

"John's not picking you up today then?"

"No, he's not, not today." She paused, adding: "I think he's got a team away day in Blackpool."

"Has he? He never said. Told me he was on an early shift."

"Told you? Told you when?" she asked with a puzzled frown.

"This morning."

"John was here this morning?"

"Yeah, about an hour ago. How else would I know he's not picking you up? He said he was on an early start and could I pass this on to you. Said it was important you got it as soon as possible." He picked up a small Jiffy bag lying beside the bike and handed it to her.

She took it off him gingerly, seeing as he had managed to streak it with oily fingerprints. It was otherwise unmarked and quite light and she regarded it curiously, turning it over in her hands to see whether she could tell what was inside. It was irregularly shaped so that ruled out it being a CD or DVD.

"You not going to open it then?"

"What? Err, no. I know what it is. It's some promotional stickers for the Dairylea Dunkers stand at work."

"Oh right."

When she didn't move but still kept turning the parcel over her in her hands distractedly he asked her outright:

"Have you two had a barney or something? Only our Mandy said that heart lamp he got you got broken. She found the pieces in the kitchen bin.

"What? No, no we're... it's fine. It was an accident."

Steve nodded dubiously and she looked up and down the road again before sighing. "Well I suppose I best get going then, I've got two buses and a tram to catch."

He smiled sympathetically. "Ok then, bye love. See you later."

As she walked away she took one last look at the parcel and decided to shove it in her bag. She couldn't deal with it there and then.

The next 40 minutes were spent walking and waiting, queuing and standing, while over and over her last conversation with John replayed in a loop in her brain. Had she misjudged the situation completely? They had been so giddy while they were singing along to Billy Ocean at the tops of their voices, holding on to each other's hands. It was the happiest she could remember being in a long time. And yet, not two minutes later, he was back to talking about work again, making her heart sink at the realisation that maybe he didn't feel the same way she did.

She thought they'd shared a moment after the fancy dress party, when she'd been sure he was about to kiss her, but could her hazy, hungover recollection have been wrong? And then when he'd started texting while she was trying to get across to him that maybe they shared something more than friendship - or a car! - well, that had been the final straw. Her heart already bursting and breaking simultaneously, she'd blurted out her true feelings and left in a blur of tears. She'd taken one last look back before she got into the taxi, but he hadn't got out of the car to come after her and her tears had fallen faster on the journey home.

She'd taken it out on her treasured heart lamp when she got back, but when she started picking up the pieces she was immediately flooded with regret and remorse. Had she been too hasty and ruined something which had brought her joy and happiness?

The clang of the tram doors woke her from her reverie and she exited, trudging wearily up the steps to begin the final stretch of her lonely commute. As she rounded the corner she was stopped in her tracks by the sight of a man holding a handwritten sign bearing her name. He was standing alongside a black cab and scanning the faces of the passers-by. She approached him curiously...

TO BE CONTINUED