Fiona drew her puffa coat around her as she searched for her spot on the deserted beach. When she arrived she set the stones in a circle and found the cooking grate which had become lodged in the long grass behind the sand dune.

She turned her face to the fading sun taking on its last rays before the dark descended. She carefully lit the small fire and let it grow to the point where she could put the small pot and skillet she had brought with her on to the make shift stove.

She loved cooking outdoors. It was one of the things that brought her joy. He had shown her how. Two years ago. When neither of them could think of anything more than being together.

Fiona knew she would think of him today. She knew she needed space to think about him. She pushed through the day. Filling her time knowing the thoughts of him would break through.

Through the time she spent in treatment she knew that the best way to deal with her emotions. She would set aside the time and space to do it. This needed a lot of time. This needed something special.

She opened her bag and took out her tape player and put in her heart break mixtape. She poured her lentils into the pan and placed her sausages on the grill.

Constant Craving by KD Lang blasted out as she swayed and let the music take her over. Her hair had grown back. She liked that it was long enough now to flow in the breeze. It was a physical sign of time passing and her feeling better. Taking on the World by Gun played on. She sat next to the fire and ate her food slowly and deliberately.

Her mind went back to when she was last with him. The hurt in his eyes as she told him she was leaving. His pleading for her to change her mind. She knew he would. At the time she had no feelings. She was numb from shock.

The numbness left her over six months ago. When she began to feel again she felt everything she had placed on hold after the accident. It was as though her body had placed her emotions on pause. The volume, the rawness the intensity nearly broke her.

She left him. She lost the baby. She would never feel like that again in her life. The sobs started slowly, then they came in waves. She could hear Your Song by Elton John. She thought of his blue eyes boring into hers. Pleading with her not to leave. Then his eyes when he rubbed her pregnant belly the love, the warmth. When would she feel that again? Never with him. The finality of that thought broke her.

The tears spilled down her cheeks as she thought of the way they had become friends and then lovers. She fought back the sobs when she thought of how stubborn she had been two years ago. Why did she let him leave for Boston? Why did she not go after him. Love him. Be with him. The waste. The waste of love. What a crime.

She finished eating and she walked quickly to the nearest rock pool and cleaned her plate. She threw the boiled water into the sea. She thought of their time in Abersoch looking at the Welsh sea and she wondered if any molecule of water that was in the sea that day had made it there to Jersey. To mock her. Her stupidity, her stubbornness, her pride.

Top of the City by Kate Bush rang out around. 'She's no good for you baby. She's no good for you now." Fiona knew that David had gone back to Suzie. When her girlfriends had come over to Jersey before Christmas they had shown her their holiday photographs. All of them had gone to his holiday home in Nantucket. The photos showed him looking well and happy. It was like a knife to her heart.

The photographs of him with her were the worst. The one of them both asleep on the hammock was one she would never leave from her memory. He looked happy. She looked like he had spent the whole previous night making her happy. That was too much for her to bear.

Fiona pulled her knitted hat down a little more as she braced herself against the Jersey wind. She wondered if he was in any way feeling the same. She shook off that feeling as quickly as she could. She left him.

Cold by Annie Lennox was the last track of her misery tape. She grieved for the loss of her baby. She looked at the stars and hoped that he was there. He would be 11 months now. She thought about what it would have been like now if she hadn't stepped on that bus and been blown to high heaven.

She could pinpoint the exact last moment she was happy. It was the morning. The morning before it happened. He was early home from work and had decided to wake her. They made love and then he brought her breakfast in bed. He lay rubbing her pregnant belly. They made last minute plans for their wedding in two weeks time.

That was the last time she was truly happy.

The song finished and she put on her 'pull yourself together' mix tape. Prince 1999 came on. She began to dance. Just her, the waves and the sand. She smiled her time to mourn had passed. She felt better for it. Now was the time to get on with the rest of her life.

She wondered if Oliver had made it to St Malo on the ferry to see his hot artist girlfriend. She grinned as she thought of Oliver. He was different, very French, very emotional and very very handsome. Lucky for her that she hadn't as much as found Brad Pitt attractive for the last year or so. Not one inkling. Perhaps her life rations of great lovemaking had been used up. She would turn into Miss Haversham and spend the rest of her life looking back instead of forward.

Simple Minds Alive and Kicking came on. She danced around picking up her things. It was becoming colder. She would continue her Valentines Party in her cottage. She would light the log burner and watch Cerano De Bergerac until she passed out.

She placed the tape recorder and pans in her backpack and trudged up the sand dunes to the cottage. At that point the wind picked up and it began to pour with rain. She hastened up the hill as fast as her legs could carry her.

She looked up at the cottage and she could see a figure huddled in the doorway. It looked to be a man. A tall fair haired man. Her breath caught in her throat. It couldn't be him could it?

She picked up her speed and as she got closer she noticed it was Oliver. Her mouth opened in shock.

"Shouldn't you be in France?" She moved him aside to open her door, "Did your ferry get cancelled?"

"Oh I went and came back." He said factually, "Aurore told me that I was too serious so she chucked me."

"We are a right pair aren't we? Me, Billy no mates and you chucked on Valentines Day! You are soaked through Oliver. You can't stand here in those wet clothes. Come in."

Fiona let him in. He often popped round for dinner or a catch up. They had rekindled a friendship in Jersey that they had struck up in London. Oliver knew about David and the accident.

"I brought French cheese, wine and bread." 

"You kept them dry." She laughed as she motioned for Oliver to put his bag in the kitchen.

"I am French! We know that the food is sacred." The drips of water ran off his coat. He made a small puddle in the kitchen.

"You will catch your death in those clothes. Go and have a shower. My dressing gown is in the back of the door. I will set these clothes on a wash and we can dry your coat next to the fire."

Oliver smiled. His plan was working. He went to St Malo and told Aurore it was over. He was head over heels with Fiona. He could not get this small feisty spitball of a woman out of his mind. Or indeed at this point his heart.

He returned from the shower. Fiona looked up and laughed. Her dressing gown was like a mini dress on him. She laid out the food and opened the wine. She brought the tray though and placed them in front of her log burner.

"Do I look so ridiculous?" Oliver asked. He was a good looking guy however wearing a red silk kimono was not as fetching as he had hoped.

"Yes, yes you do." Fiona smirked. She missed out that he looked incredibly hot. His brown eyes contrasting to his blonde hair. His long legs stretched out in front of the fire. She felt a small stirring that she had thought had gone for ever.

Oliver regarded her as she took him in. He saw the change in her. The flush to her cheeks, the dilation of her pupils. She felt it too.

The atmosphere was charged between them. Oliver moved slowly towards her. She did the same. The moment their lips touched it was magic. He knew that he would never be the same again. It was better than he could have imagined. The softness of those lips. He could not wait to feel them on his body. He could not wait to make a string of profanities leave her mouth as he drove her to the brink.

A hundred miles away a man looked in bathroom mirror. He regarded his face, his eyes and wondered did she still think of him? Was she better? Did she still love him? Was she alone or with someone else?

The shout of his name from the bedroom brought him back from this thoughts. Suzie was his future and Fiona was his past. Somehow in some way that did not comfort him. As Paul Simons says Love the One you are With.