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open up between them until she couldn’t bear it any longer.

      ‘It’s this whole Roots thing.’

      ‘I thought you were really keen on the idea.’

      ‘No, no, I’m not, but Arthur is – mind you he’s keen about anything that’ll earn him a few quid. He sees it as my way back into prime time; it’s just that I’m not sure that it’s such a good idea after all.’

      ‘But I thought you were happy about it. Arthur seems to think that it’s the best thing that could happen to you. A new start, a ticket out – that’s what he said, and who knows what it might lead to, Helen? It’s a real showcase for you. I was looking at the viewing figures online – it’s international, you know; it goes out all over the world and then it ends up on Dave.’

      Helen raised her eyebrows. ‘I know and you know as well as I do that Arthur’s got his eye fixed firmly on his ten per cent.’

      Bon laughed. ‘Come on, Helen, I think you’re being way too hard on him. He wouldn’t see you doing something you weren’t happy with.’

      ‘How long have you known him?’ asked Helen incredulously. ‘Are we talking about the same Arthur?’

      ‘You know what I mean, he tempers a healthy mercenary streak with a huge heart. And he loves you; he’s always loved you.’

      Helen nodded. ‘Yes, but –’

      ‘Well then trust him. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. Anyway what it is you’re unhappy about?’ continued Bon. ‘You know your own life story. You know where the bodies are buried, and okay so it probably will be painful and I’m sure you’ll shed a few tears –’

      She bit her lip and Bon pulled her closer.

      ‘Sorry, that was insensitive, but that’s what Roots is good at. I think it’ll be the most fantastic opportunity for you and you’re overdue a break. You don’t know what might come out of it. Film, a book? TV?’

      ‘You know, you’re even beginning to sound a lot like Arthur.’

      Bon smiled. ‘And I love you too, you know. But if you don’t want to do it, then don’t. It’s not too late to pull out.’

      Helen smiled. ‘That’s exactly what Arthur said.’

      ‘Well, there you are, it’s got to be right then, hasn’t it?’

      Helen glanced at the bedside clock. Another few hours and she’d have to be up and in the rehearsal room they’d booked, putting the finishing touches to the new show she was taking on the road. The costumes had arrived, the pre-publicity had gone out and ticket sales were doing well. Helen and Arthur were just putting the running order together, finalising the script, the music and the songs.

      ‘You’ll be perfect,’ Bon was saying. ‘Do you want me to come to Billingsfield with you? I’m really happy to cancel –’

      ‘No,’ Helen said emphatically, cutting him short. ‘You don’t have to cancel anything, okay? The Dubai show is important for you, and besides, I’m a big girl now. I’ll be fine. Really.’

      ‘You know you don’t have to be tough with me.’ He grinned. ‘Who are you trying to convince?’

      Helen smiled; it felt as if Bon had been reading her mind. ‘It’s just that I haven’t been back to Billingsfield for such long time.’

      ‘Well, other than going home to see my mum once in a while I don’t hang out in my old home town that much either. Life moves on, we grow up and we move away. That’s how it goes. What are you so worried about?’ He didn’t say it lightly but earnestly, in a voice that made Helen turn and look at him.

      The light of the new day was forcing its way between the slats of the wooden Venetian blinds, its rays creeping up and over the bed to catch the blonde in his hair, throwing his strong uncomplicated good looks into sharp relief.

      Helen sighed and shook her head. ‘You know, the usual stuff – there are just so many reasons: the people, the places, the ghosts from the past, all the things that made me leave in the first place. I’m not sure that I want to go back to all that again.’

      This time Bon laughed. ‘You should have thought about that before you said you’d do it. Where did you think they’d go back to look at your roots? Another town, another life, another Helen Redford?’

      ‘I know you’re right. I suppose I just didn’t really think it through. It seemed like such a good thing and I was really flattered to be asked out of the blue like that, and Arthur was so bloody keen and persuasive, you know what he can be like – a real dog with a bone when he gets an idea into his head. And now it’s almost here I’m starting to think I’ve made the most terrible mistake. I’m not sure that I can go back,’ she said, annoyed by the emotion crackling in her voice.

      His expression softened. ‘Because?’

      ‘Because I just can’t, Bon, that’s why. I’m going to have to talk to Arthur, ring them up, and explain. I’ve come a long way since Billingsfield. It’s not that I’m ashamed of where I came from but it wasn’t as if I lived this fabulous life there, and then went on to fame and fortune, things were – were –’ She hesitated, struggling to find the right words.

      ‘Things were what? Hard? Complicated? Difficult? You know as well as I do that’s exactly what people like about those shows. They like to see how you dragged yourself up from nothing. It makes other people think that they can do it too. Inspirational, aspirational; TV audiences love that kind of thing. And then there are some of them looking at where you came from and thinking their life is damned good compared to what you had to go through and they’re glad they didn’t have to go through it to get where they are.’

      Helen stared at him. ‘And what exactly have I been through, Bon? I wasn’t going to say hard. I was going to say boring. Okay, so I grew up without a mother but so do lots of other people. Being poor and working hard to get out of where you are is boring and tedious, and that’s not what people want to hear. They want to believe in some romanticised version. They want to think it happens in the blink of an eye, some fairy godmother moment, one zap of the magic wand and everything changes forever. Well it wasn’t like that –’

      ‘I’m talking hypothetically here, Helen – I meant one – not you specifically.’

      ‘I know but that’s the trouble, it isn’t one, it is me, Bon.’

      ‘And we both know that there are moments, chances taken, people you meet, things you do that do change your life forever –’

      ‘Of course there are, but my experience of life is the harder you work the luckier you get. Up until now I’ve always kept all those things to myself, all those years. I had the chance to write about all this when I left Cannon Square; my life, where I came from; and I didn’t –’ Helen paused and then said more gently, ‘I didn’t. And for a good reason, because it’s boring.

      ‘People have got these ideas in their head about what my life was like; what it is like. They make assumptions, they want to romanticise it all, make it all into a fairy story and it wasn’t like that. It wasn’t like that at all. It was grim and cold and I was afraid and scared all the time –’ She rolled over. ‘I’m just not sure, even after all these years, that I’m ready to go home.’ The words were out before Helen realised exactly what she’d said.

      Bon stroked her back, his touch offering comfort. ‘It’s okay. This is your home now, baby, not Billingsfield. You and me. We’re home. You’re not going home, you’re just going back to a place, a town where you grew up, which you left. This is your home now,’ he said, moving closer and curling up around her.

      If it ever was my home, Helen thought miserably, closing her eyes and squeezing them tight to hold back the tears. There were so many emotions she felt about going back to Billingsfield that it was hard to unpick them all. One was the irrational fear that if she went back,

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