“There was no room in London to stretch the sinews and muscles and skin, not enough clean air to refresh her lungs with gulping breaths. There was no big sky on which to rest her eyes, just a crushing grey smudge. It was impossible to find a clear path for more than a minute before it became blocked by children's buggies and bikes on the pavement and dogs on leads; by workmen endlessly digging up roads; by 4X4s squeezing through the narrow paths left by the workmen.”

“They say it is a wide road that leads to war and only a narrow path that leads home again.”

“For the first stretch of road Olivia’s eyes were sealed shut, her breath held hostage in her lungs.“You might want to open your eyes,” Wesley called back knowingly, his muffled voice breaking through both of their helmets. “And don’t forget to breathe.”

“He kept his hand on her lower back as they headed for the house.Halfway up the walk, she could take the tingling no longer. She whirled and hugged him. He squeezed her back and whispered something into her hair. She listened to his breathing and relaxed in the circle of his arms.“Should we get inside before your Dad pulls up and finds me ravishing you on this cement path?” he said, more clearly now. She could hear the snicker in his voice.”

“There are no big stories left, just paths through the clutter and the inevitable soft landing.”

“His breath was a sucking gasp that sounded more like a draining tub than a man filling his lungs with air. Then she heard him form the words “Play dead.”So Livia did. She closed her eyes as much as she dared. She could still see outlines through her lashes. She squeezed her hands against Blake’s chest. Hold on, Blake. Stay with me.”