roamed the halls of Madam Tussaud's. It's tradition. There is not one waxwork that we haven't got a photo with. We've snuck around the place, entered restricted zones and done whatever it took to get the photographs we needed to keep our scrapbook up-to-date. Childish, but it's our thing.
We have an amazing day. I've laughed so much my cheeks ache. As it turns out, the only new waxworks' in Tussaud's are royalty. I had a photo with William and Kate, and Dan was captured squeezing The Queen's boobs. We had dinner at our favourite Chinese in China Town and a few cheeky wines in a bar. I felt slightly guilty when I took my first sip, but I could hardly ask for water - Dan would have asked why. Besides, once I got the first glass down, the second was easier.
I hug Dan tight as we say our goodbyes at the tube. 'When are you going back?' I ask.
'Not for a few weeks. I'm going up to Manchester tomorrow to catch up with some university friends, but I'm back in London next Sunday so I'll see you again before I leave, okay?'
I release him from my squeeze. 'Okay. Call me as soon as you're back in London.'
'I will, take care, yeah?' He kisses me on the cheek. 'I'm on my mobile if you need me.'
'Okay.' I smile. He's worried.
He strides off and leaves me wishing he could stay forever. I've never needed him so much.
As I enter the foyer of Lusso, Clive is on the telephone. I walk straight past his desk on my way to the lift. I really don't feel like chatting.
'Thank you, goodbye. Ava!' he shouts after me, and I stop and roll my eyes before turning to face him.
'Yes?'
He shoves the phone into its cradle and hurries towards me. 'A lady stopped by. I tried calling up to Mr Ward, but he didn't answer. I'm afraid I couldn't let her up. Mature woman.'
'A lady?' I ask. He's got my attention now.
'Yes, nice woman with blonde wavy hair. She said it was urgent, but of course, you know the rules.' He raises his eyebrows.
Oh yes, I know the rules and for once I'm relieved he has stuck to the rules. Blonde, wavy hair? Not Sarah, surely. 'How mature?'
He shrugs. 'Mid-forties.'
Okay. I don't like Sarah but she definitely doesn't look like she's in her forties. 'What time was this, Clive?'
He looks at his watch. 'Only half an hour ago.'
'Did she give her name?'
He frowns. 'No, she didn't. I met her at the gate. She was expecting to go straight up to the penthouse, but when I wouldn't let her through and said I would have to call Mr Ward, she started getting a bit vague with me.'
'No worries, Clive. Thanks.' I pivot and carry on towards the elevators.
I board the lift and punch in the code. A lady? And a vague lady who thought she could march up to the penthouse unannounced?
The elevators doors open and I step out to find Jesse's front door open. Does this man have no regard for home security? Granted, he has a twenty four hour concierge downstairs to monitor the comings and goings, and a team of security, but a bit of common sense wouldn't go a miss. I shut the door behind me and instantly feel on my guard. The sound system is playing. It's not as ear piercing as last time, but it's the track playing that has me on edge. It's the same one I walked in to last Sunday when I found Jesse drunk.
Angel.
I run through the penthouse, leaving the music on. Finding Jesse is more important than turning off the tormenting song which reminds me of that awful day. I head straight for the terrace, but he's not there. I dump my bag and take the stairs two at a time and bolt into the bedroom. Nothing. Where is he?
Panic starts to flood me, but then I hear the shower running. I fly into the bathroom and come to an abrupt stop when I see Jesse sat on the floor of the shower, naked except for a pair of running shorts that are soaking wet and clinging to his thighs. His back is against the cold tiled wall, his knees pulled up and his arms resting on top of them. His head in slumped as the water crashes down around him.
As if he senses I'm here, he lifts his head and meets my gaze. He smiles mildly,