“What?”
“I think Beau is still waiting for his Deedee,” I say determinedly. “We’re going to Hyde Park.”
“Hear that, Delores, honey?” Dusty squeezes her hand warmly. “We’re going to get your man.”
She beams widely. “Beau.”
By the time I climb out of the Uber at the entrance to Hyde Park, I already have my phone in my hand and directions pulled up on Google Maps.
“According to this, the original bandstand still exists,” I say quietly as we wander along the path. It’s getting late and the park is fairly quiet. “It was originally built in Kensington Gardens but moved to Hyde Park in 1886. The famous trumpeter Harry Mortimer played in the bandstand in 1944.”
“And you really think Beau’s there? That he’s waited all this time?” Dusty asks.
“I guess we’re about to find out.” I glance at her teetering across the grass on five-inch platform heels while Mrs Abernathy wanders along beside her, holding her hand. “The bandstand is just up ahead.”
In the distance I can see a hexagonal bandstand surrounded by grass and trees. A low, pale pink fence flanks the steps leading up to the stage and encircles the structure, which is painted a glossy black. The two-tiered pointed witch-hat roof is held up by thin supports. It’s plain, with no flowers or decorations surrounding it, and I can imagine it lit up with fairy lights while soft music dances on the night air. I make a mental note to see if there are any live events scheduled for here that I can bring Danny to on a date.
“Bloody hell,” Dusty gasps and stops dead.
I follow her line of sight, and my eyes land on a man wearing a military uniform and standing by the steps. His eyes are locked on us, and as his face breaks in a smile, he removes his hat and smoothes down his hair nervously.
Dusty and I both turn to Mrs Abernathy, who is standing between and just slightly behind us. I have to blink twice for my brain to register what my eyes are showing me. The doddering little old lady in the tea-cosy hat and mismatched socks is gone and in her place stands a young woman.
She’s beautiful and fresh-faced, her deep chocolate brown hair swept away from her face and caught in two rolls pinned at her temples while the rest of it falls in smooth waves to her shoulders. She’s wearing a pretty floral tea dress and a coat that tapers in at the waist and falls to her knees, and on her feet is a pair of dark green suede chunky heels.
No longer confused and trapped in the prison of her mind, she smiles, her dark eyes clear and intelligent. She turns first to Dusty, rising up on her toes and placing an affectionate kiss on her cheek.
“Thank you, Dusty,” she says, her voice sweet and warm, before turning to me. She reaches out, and as she strokes my cheek, I swear I can almost feel her touch. “Thank you both for taking care of me.”
“You’re very welcome,” I whisper, unable to help the smile that tugs at my lips.
“Will you look in on Larry from time to time?”
“Of course,” I promise and she nods in satisfaction, turning her attention to the gorgeous dark-haired G.I. waiting patiently for her.
She takes a few steps towards him, then suddenly stops and turns back to look at me.
“Be careful, Tristan,” she says softly. “The witch was right, something has taken an interest in you, but just remember, things aren’t always as they seem.”
Before I can open my mouth to ask her what she means, she smiles and turns back toward the bandstand. Dusty and I watch as she flat out runs towards Beau, who rushes to meet her, his face filled with joy and longing. She leaps into his arms as they collide, their mouths fused together for several long moments before he swings her around, her feet swaying above the ground and her delighted laugh filling the air.
Finally, she slides down his body as he sets her on her feet and they both turn back to us. She gives us a joyful wave and he raises his hand and salutes us warmly. Then they join hands and turn towards the bandstand, and as they take a step forward, they disappear.
I swallow the lump in my throat, blinking back happy and sentimental tears as my thoughts turn to Danny. I want my forever with him but there’s a part of me that’s afraid he won’t understand or he won’t believe me when I tell him the truth. I turn to Dusty as she wipes her eyes and blows her nose on a tissue that promptly disappears.
“Come on, boo.” She smiles at me. “Let’s go home.”
“Dusty,” I say quietly, “I need to tell Danny the truth. Will you help me?”
“Of course I will,” she replies. “Don’t you know by now, Tris? I’d do anything for you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper as she links her arm through mine. I jolt in shock.
“I can feel you?” I gasp.
“Yeah.” She grins. “I suspected you might be able to. I think there’s kind of a weird connection thingy between us now because of the whole body-swap thingy.”
“We’re connected?”
