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seeping
through the seat of his pants. He took a swig from his hip flask, and
felt the burn of the alcohol warm his insides. Jack turned his cell
phone over in his hands, willing the battery to come back to life.
Sara should be in the city by now, maybe even at the hotel. He'd made
sure earlier in the day that the staff would look after her. He
should find a telephone booth - assuming those still existed- and
call. He should walk back to the main street and hail a taxi. But
somehow he couldn't bring himself to move. It was a mistake, calling
her, he knew that now. Though every fibre of his being longed to see
her, the truth was they barely knew each other. One mad night of
passion, a few emails and text messages...that barely counted. She
would have seen the papers by now, and she would think exactly what
the rest of the world thought; that he was scum. He couldn't expect
anything else. The thought of seeing her face to face, trying to
explain the whole mess, the thought of Sara rejecting him...it was
all too much. He just couldn't. Jack sat paralysed, consumed by his
own misery, no idea where to go or who he could turn to. Years ago,
in what felt like another life, it would have been Laura. Holding his
hand, trying to make him laugh. No matter what happened, Laura could
always get a smile out of him. She had looked at her big brother like
he was a hero, the guy who could do no wrong. Right up until the end,
she had believed in him. For a moment, Jack could almost imagine her
sitting beside him, ten years old, her strawberry-blonde pigtails
sticking out at funny angles, a grin on her face that revealed her
crooked front tooth. This would always be the image he kept of his
sister, pretty and innocent. Not what came later. He couldn't bear to
think of that. Jack stared up at the orange glow of the street light
as it filtered through the trees, willing away the tears that
threatened to blur his vision. He willed himself to get up, to head
back to the hotel. But he wasn't ready, not yet. He would just sit
for a little longer.

***

    Sara looked up at the clock. Compass were due
on stage in an hour - the rest of the band would be in their dressing
rooms, running through their own pre-show rituals. Once upon a time
Sara would have wanted nothing more than to be in the front row,
cheering them on. But tonight was different. Tonight there would be
no Jack Carter, no front man. And all Sara cared about was seeing him
safe. She replayed their early morning conversation in her head, over
and over, hoping to recall some small detail that would give a hint
of where he was, of what he was thinking. But she had nothing to go
on. Only what Michael had said,that he'd be roaming the city
somewhere. She gazed out of the window and pictured Jack lost in the
winding streets of Paris. Fuck it, she thought to herself, there was
no point sitting around driving herself crazy. Ignoring the rational
part of her brain, she pulled on her jacket and headed for the
elevator. Though she barely knew Jack Carter, and had no idea what
was going on, Sara was sure of one thing. He called her because he
needed her. She came because, despite all her misgivings, she wanted
to be there for him. And if she had to hunt him down in a strange,
dark city, then that was what she was going to do
    The
rain had finally stopped, but the wind carried a chill. Sara stuffed
her hands in her pockets, wishing she had gloves. The receptionist
had thrust an elaborate map of Paris into her hands as she left the
hotel, but she had given up trying to follow her route. It wasn't
like she knew where she was going anyway. Instead, Sara followed the
river, hoping the dark waters of the Seine would lead her to her
lover. She scanned the faces of everyone she passed, hoping Jack
would emerge from the crowd, but there were only strangers, puzzled
as to why the tourist was staring at them. Though her body ached with
tiredness, Sara kept walking. Suddenly she found herself standing
before the