Heart to Hart ✔️

1. Provence to Hampshire

My stomach knotted as I stepped off the train onto Petersfield's deserted platform. The wheels on my suitcase clunked on the concrete, echoing through the station as I dragged it behind me.

Why was I doing this to myself?

My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as I attempted to swallow. I was parched or stupidly nervous for no reason. Running my free palm over my jeans, I made my way to the kiosk for a bottle of water. That packet of Maltesers would do too. Share size? Pfft, they wouldn't last a minute once I opened them.

I checked my phone for any missed calls and sat on a bench facing the sparse carpark, keeping my eyes peeled for a red Ford KA. The bag of chocolates rustled as I ripped it open and tucked in. Each piece melted on my tongue as I savoured my bites. The longer I sat there, the longer I had time to think.

Funny how a year ago, I was in a similar situation but running away from this place. It only felt like yesterday I handed my final A level exam paper in, slipped home before my parents noticed, packed a bag and hopped on the first train out of Hampshire. The note, I stuck on the fridge for my parents, hadn't gone down well and the guilt ate away at me every day.

With no set plans and limited funds, I boarded a ferry in Portsmouth as a foot passenger and settled on travelling through France. My original idea, to visit the whole of Europe, came to an abrupt end when I ran out of money. I made it as far as a quaint town in the south of France, found a job to pay for my travels but every penny disappeared as soon as it made its way into my pocket.

I shouldn't moan. The people were extremely welcoming and the food delicious. Well, apart from all the fish.

After my last phone call with my mother, reminding me how selfish I had been, I agreed to come home. She transferred enough money over for a plane ticket straight back to England and the life I left behind. A weight settled in my gut as I thought back to my old life. Was my remorse from leaving so abruptly worth putting myself through it all again?

***

I snapped my head up as a car whizzed round the corner, tyres screeching and cheesy pop music blasting through an open window. Masses of curly blonde hair bobbed as one of my best friends flew out of the car and ran towards me. After the initial dread from coming home, I welcomed the giddiness I felt from seeing one of my friends.

My other best friend was still at university, in Cambridge and unaware of my return.

Sian wrapped her arms around me as I stood to meet her and swayed from side to side.

"You're back. Missed ya, Wilson." She buried her head in my neck and squeezed. "I'm so glad you're home."

I returned her embrace with less force, holding the chocolate packet away from her cream jacket. "I missed you too, Daniels. Hey, you changed your car." Peering over her shoulder, I took in the flash blue car she arrived in.

Sian turned towards it and sighed. "Not mine. My car broke down just as I was leaving work. Luckily, I know a good mechanic and they lent me a car. I would have rung to warn you I was running late but I am always late," she laughed, hauling my suitcase into the boot.

"New flavour of the month? I don't know many mechanics who would lend out cars that quickly or take yours in so fast."

Sian blushed and slammed her door. "Err, no. Just a friend."

"It's not like you to go all shy about your sex life. I would say love life but hey, it's you," I teased as I settled into the passenger seat. She was hiding something. I suspected she had a new man in her life but never dared bring it up.