Thank you all so much for the lovely reviews, again! A quicker update this time, as promised. Just a couple more chapters to go now I think :)

2 June 2008

I just knew that at some point in the near future, my past would come back to haunt me. And that moment has now arrived. It's just one of those moments that seem impossible to get out of, and I really don't know what I should do. George suggested we'd go on a last minute holiday, all three of us. We hadn't made any real plans for the summer so far. We had decided to stay at home and take Nico on a couple of day trips, because it could be just as much fun as going abroad. But apparently Nico has been begging George to take him on holiday somewhere. And this is not what bothers me, I mean, why would it? It's just the destination George suggested that made my blood run cold. As it turns out Nico has always wanted to visit England, and more specifically London. When George suggested we'd go on a trip to London I was gasping for breath, that's how shocked I was. He, of course, didn't understand why I reacted the way I did. He asked me if I was feeling alright, but I couldn't catch my breath, let alone speak. This just couldn't be happening. How on earth was I going to explain this to him without giving anything away?

I started off by saying that I didn't want to go because I had left behind too many painful memories in London. Unfortunately this didn't work, because he told me he'd be there for me to support me, that he'd be with me every step of the way. Which is so very sweet of him of course, but in my situation it isn't going to get me very far, unfortunately. I then told him that I really couldn't go to London at all, that it would be impossible for me. So then George suggested that we'd visit other places in England, and that he'd take Nico on a day trip to London without me. Of course I can't blame him for trying to come up with a solution, and it's understandable that he was starting to lose his patience when I, once again, told him that wasn't possible.

How on earth could I ever set foot in the UK ever again, even with a new identity? I have worked with facial recognition programmes for far too long to even dare and take that risk. I just know that at some point, somewhere, someone will single me out and then all hell will break loose. And I just can't let that happen, no matter what. I gave up everything, I gave up my job, my life, to make sure that Harry could stay right where he was. And I will do everything in my power to make sure that this situation does not get jeopardised, not by me or anyone else.

But of course, quite understandably, George didn't understand. He has no idea of what I'm on about, and why it is absolutely impossible for me to travel to the UK at all. As far as he's concerned I emigrated because I just wanted a fresh start somewhere else. I did tell them that I'd had some nasty experiences back home, but I never went into detail about any of it. I feel so horrible for lying to him, but I know that I can never tell him the truth. I'm sure he'd hate me for it if he knew. He'd probably go right off me if he knew that I'm not really the uncomplicated, straightforward, 'what you see is what you get' type of woman. Because that's the role I play every single day of my life. To a certain extent it's very relaxing, but keeping up appearances does get rather tiring after a while. If only there were an easy solution, but there isn't.

We just had a big row about the holiday issue, and I'm not sure how to solve the problem. Either I could suggest another holiday destination altogether, and hope that they'll like it as well. Or I should just let them go off together and stay at home all by myself. It's not how I had imagined spending the summer this year, but I can't get my limitations get in the way of their plans and wishes. It's just such a complicated matter, and I really am not sure what's the best way to deal with it.

If they do decide to go without me, I'll be happy for them but of course I'll be very jealous as well. What I wouldn't give to be in London one last time, to just walk around and take in the sights, the sounds, even the smell. I thought that if I ever got homesick it would just be because of my house and my cats, but I was wrong. I miss the city itself as well. Just the thought that I'll never in my life be able to see London with my own eyes again is one that fills me with intense sadness. I would do anything to go back there just once. But I'm afraid it's just not possible, and that's one of the consequences of my exile that I'm still learning to cope with.

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