Out to Lunch Jonathan 12.55 p.m. I couldn’t believe it. Ros didn’t seem the kind of person who’d stand me up. She was always online when she said she’d be, and by her own admission annoyingly sensible. I wanted to make excuses for her, but unless I got a message soon, I’d just have to face it: she didn’t want to see me. All those evenings we’d typed till our fingers were sore surely meant something to her. Funny how this girl I’d never met was suddenly so important to me. For a moment I wondered if Ros really was who she said she was, but I couldn’t bring myself to seriously consider that. At least I still had something to look forward to – seeing Freya. I cheered up a little. This weekend was bound to be better than the last one – it couldn’t be any worse. Maybe then it wouldn’t matter so much that Ros hadn’t shown. Auntie Phil’s house was a semi down a quiet road near the river. A slim woman with fashionable glasses and very carefully arranged hair answered the door.
