Begin Again | ongoing

eighteen

It's late enough that the roads are quiet, and it's only twenty-five minutes before Sylvia pulls up outside number 3, Jupiter Court and Sunny is back in her top floor flat looking out over the world below. The sky is several shades darker now, though the lights of Black Sands and the pier's illuminations give the sky a flickering glow. She doesn't have a sea view from any of her windows – the south-facing windows of her bedroom and the sitting room look over the square of garden belonging to the house on the other side, and the tiny kitchen window looks over Jupiter Court – but when she cracks it open, she can smell the salt in the air. On a clear day she can hear the excited screams of kids on the rides at the end of the pier.

Fenfen isn't home. Sunny has the place to herself but that's not what she wants. She wants to make a plan to prove herself to Viv but she has questions and she needs answers, so she holds the kitchen phone between her ear and shoulder as she dials Ravi's number from memory. She keeps seeing adverts imploring her to invest in a Nokia 3210 but she can't see the point in splashing a week's wages on a mobile phone when she has a landline and she knows all her friends' six-digit numbers off by heart – and she doesn't have to remember to charge her landline every few days.

"Fraser Adams," Fraser says when he answers the phone. It makes a lot more sense to answer that way, rather than Sunny's habit of saying hello in a questioning tone to whoever calls her.

"Hey, it's me," she says. "Are you guys home?"

"We most certainly are. Does that help or hinder?"

"Depends if I can come over or not. It's not too late is it?"

"It's not even nine, Sunny," Fraser says. "How old do you think we are?" He chuckles and says, "Come on over, Lil Ray. See you in a minute."

Sunny has timed it and the quickest she can make it to number 21, Jupiter Court is ninety-four seconds, but only if she sprints so hard her legs and lungs burn, and she risks catastrophic injury at the speed with which she descends the two flights of stairs between her flat and the pavement.

She doesn't run today. It takes her four minutes to head downstairs and walk up the gentle slope to the other end of the road, and Fraser lets her in within five seconds of knocking. The powerful aroma of Murghanu Shaak almost knocks her out when she steps into the flat to see Ravi standing over the hob, stirring potato chunks into a sauce of chopped onion and garlic with grated ginger and garam masala – and, knowing Ravi, a generous amount of chili powder.

"Hey, Sunny!" He waves the hand that's holding a wooden spoon and splatters the rich, oily sauce on the counter. Fraser rolls his eyes and tears off a square of kitchen roll, getting rid of the mess seconds after it's made. Sunny could do with someone like that in her life.

"Hiya, guys." She drops her bag from her shoulder to her elbow. "I didn't realise I was interrupting your supper."

"You're not – I've only just put the rice on so that'll be another half an hour at least." He pulls the pan slightly off the hob and puts a lid on it. "You all right?"

He sits first. Sunny takes a place opposite him at the table. Fraser nudges the lid off the pan to taste the sauce. He lets out an orgasmic groan in appreciation – his boyfriend can cook.

"What's up, buttercup?"

"I haven't treated Viv very well since this whole business of, you know, travelling through time," Sunny says with a sigh. "She's upset and I need to make it up to her, but that's kind of hard when I don't know her as well as I'm supposed to."

"That does pose a problem," Ravi says, nodding sagely.

"She does know, right?" Fraser asks. "You're not trying to act like nothing happened, are you?"