Mary slowed her pace, turned around and stared at him with a puzzled look. She didn't seem really glad to see him.

But hell, he really needed her now. The boys were looking admiredly at his Armani suit and Kelly was chattering unabatedly about how beautiful Harrogate was, why she never came here and how she regretted it so very much. Unless pretexting a phone call or catching up with Mary, he was stuck with them.

He didn't want Mary not to like him. However, he was the only one she had not talked to yet, and he intended to change that.

"Wanna go get lunch somewhere?" he asked, with the friendliest smile he could.

She shook her head.

"Nah, sorry. Gotta go."

"Oh." Well, so much for his effort. "Where are you going?"

"Bradford."

"Oh, is that where you live?"

She shook her head again.

"Just for holiday", she precised.

The message her short replies were conveying was clear. "I don't want to talk to you. Go away."

Annoyed, Luke thought of leaving, but he had to go back to the Crock Bar and he couldn't do so if the Armani fans and the chatterbox were still here. One look behind... Yep, they were still here.

"So where do you live?"

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

"Hertfordshire. Well, now I live in Paris."

"You study there, right?"

She nodded.

"I studied in Cambridge", he explained, hoping that it would encourage her to talk to him. I majored in economics. Then I spent a gap year in the US." Well, that was not entirely true. His father had sent him to help the president of Crock Food USA. But she didn't need to know that, of course. "Now I live in London. The apartment's great, you can see London Eye, Big Ben, well, you know."

She looked up and her lips curved into a tiny, shy smile. "Wow. Lucky you."

He grinned, happy to have squeezed a smile out of her.

"Look," he said, more seriously, "I'm sorry about this morning. I swear I'm not a grumpy bear all the time. I was..."

"It's okay." She cut him short.

"I'm sorry that I..."

"Really. It's okay."

They walked in awkward silence for a few more feet.

Luke threw a look backwards. The six fellows had disappeared.

"Well..." He was thinking of a polite way to take his leave. "I'm gonna go back inside. You're sure you don't wanna buy a sandwich or something?"

"It's fine."

He scribbled his number on a scrap number and told her to call him whenever she felt like it.

"Thank you", she whispered, and then, with a little wave of the hand, she was gone.

Mary could still feel Luke's eyes on her back as she walked away.

She knew he was looking at her, watching her disappear like in those romantic dramas Kitty and Lydia were fond of.

Or maybe he was not. Why would he be interested in a girl like her when he had a woman like Kelly within his reach?

Her nervousness was growing uncontrollably. She felt as though she was at the centre of a stage and everyone was watching her, waiting for her to trip, sneeze or bump into a pole.

Mary had never been comfortable around boys. It was probably due to the fact that she had grown up among women.

Her father, Thomas Bennet, had married twice: first with Maddie Weiner, now Gardiner, Jane's and Elizabeth's mother, then with Fanny Gardiner, Maddie's new husband's sister, and the mother of Kitty and Lydia. Mary had been a mistake, born at some point inbetween after a drunken one-night-stand.

Thomas didn't visit often, because Fanny didn't like Mary and the idea that she existed (it was the same for Jane and Elizabeth). It had not really bothered Mary. As long as he kept sending money and presents from time to time, she knew that he had not completely forgotten her.

Unlike her other sisters, Mary had been raised by a single mother. Lauren Silberman had never married and did not intend to.

Lauren didn't like men. She hated them. She used them. Mary had gathered that it was because of an unfortunate relation with a despicable man many years ago, but she didn't know the details.

Her mother systematically disapproved of her male acquaintances, her male friends, her male relatives. No man was allowed to cross the threshold of her house. Mary's half-sisters, Maddie and even Fanny might be welcome, but the rule forbidding male human beings to enter the Silberman household was unyielding.

So, as a consequence, Mary had never learnt how to act in front of boys. Especially cute boys.

And Luke was cute.

He was just the right height, not too tall, not too small, his chestnut hair was tousled and wavy, and he had deep dark eyes. His nose was a little too aquiline and his chin might be too long, but otherwise, to Mary's eyes, he was perfect.

And nice, too. Well, except that morning.

Her mom's unbending voice scolded her: "Crushes are ridiculous. A smart girl like you does not crush on anybody."

Whatever.

She had to get to Bradford.

The road to Bradford was rather boring.

One hand on the handle, Mary ate the potato scones she had bought at the supermarket before leaving Harrogate, then, once she had finished them off, put the radio at full blast. One distraction at a time.

Mary was rather proud of her car. It was a red second-hand Mini Cooper, that she had bought with her father's money. Had it been her mother's, she would have thought about giving it back, but given her... special relationship with Thomas, she felt he owed her at least a car.

After a year spent commuting in the Parisian suburbs, driving in the British countryside did her good.

The green rolling hills, the pretty stone cottages, the sweet old ladies told her she was home.

But around Bradford, the landscapes changed. All of a sudden, everything she could see was tall concrete buildings, abandoned factory chimneys and yellowish neon signs.

The city centre's wide streets were empty. Some lost tourists, teenagers smoking or eating were wandering around aimlessly. The shopping centre where the landlords had told her to park her car clashed with its pretentious modernity, its bright pastel colors and its fashion brand shops. And by the looks of it, it was also empty.

In the lift, a strange, disembodied voice was pronouncing ununderstanble words.

Mary wondered whether she had fallen into an apocalyptic world.

"It must be the holidays", she thought, and firmly decided to think about it no more.

The apartment she had rented belonged to a large block that belonged itself to a larger complex.

The landlord was nowhere to be seen, though, and Mary couldn't even get in the hallway.

Eventually, an Indian man with a heavy accent got out of the building, held the door for her and disappeared outside.

Okay, so he was not the landlord.

Mary sat on a dirty couch and waited.

What if he was a gang dealer?

A tattooed man and a tattooed woman went out with their baby - who was not tattooed yet.

A veiled woman came down carrying the bins to put them out.

A black girl with an afro cut ran out with her headphones on.

The veiled woman came back.

Yet another family went out.

The Indian man came back holding a Superdry bag and threw her a sympathetic look.

A girl with her wrist in a plaster cast came running down the stairs in slippers.

"Miss Bennet?"

Mary stared at the girl in shock. She was probably younger than her, maybe the same age as Kitty.

This couldn't be the landlord.

"Bah said he couldn't come to meet you, so here I am", the girl explained, sniffing noisily and wiping her nose with her plastered hand.

"Ba what?" Mary asked, still stunned.

"Bah. The landlord", the girl replied, as though she was talking to a retarted person.

She sniffed again.

"I'll show you to your apartment."

She wiped her nose again.

They got out in the street and walked to another block. The girl was still in her bunny ears slippers.

They walked down a long corridor until the girl stopped.

"So that's your apartment. Hope you like it", she added automatically after a while, like a forgotten sentence of a lesson.

Mary nodded politely.

Sniff. Wipe.

"This is courtesy of the landlord." The girl showed a pack of eggs and two plastic bags with slices of toast and chocolate chip buns.

Mary thanked her with a tight smile.

"Is there anything else you need?"

"Do you know if there is..." she started.

The girl frowned. And sniffed loudly.

... anything to do in Bradford?

"Never mind."

If there was anything to be said from the girl's glum face... there surely was nothing fun around.

"Mom?"

"Oh, hi, Mary. Is everything fine?"

"Yeah, yeah. Everything's great."

"How's the job?"

"I loved it, everybody was so nice."

"And the apartment?"

"Um, yeah, it's cozy."

"Are you sure everything's fine?"

"Yes, mom. Don't worry."

"You know I'll send money whenever you need it, okay?"

"I know, mom. Thanks."

"And if you don't feel good, you can always come home."

"Yeah, mom, I know. Is your job tiring? At the bank?"

"Mary, I don't say I'm tired. Saying you're tired...

"... makes you feel tired. I know, mom. But still. Take care, okay? If you're exhausted, just call me and I'll be right here."

"You don't have to worry for me, Mary. I'm the mom."

"That's the point, mom."

"Mary..."

"Whatever, mom. I've gotta go. Take care, mom. Bye."

There was a long silence at the other end.

Then a click and a beep.

Mary put the phone back on the bed and let out a heavy sigh.

When had her relationship with her mother become so complicated?

Maybe she should have told her that she was going to go study in Paris. Lauren had seen that as evidence that Mary was trying to flee far away from her. It was only partly true. Mary loved her mother, but the control she tried to maintain in her daughter's life felt stifling. Especially when said daughter was twenty years old.

Mary looked at the clock.

4 PM.

Time to go.