AS THE CAR DROPPED her back at her flat, Amelia gave Arthur a little wave from the sidewalk before the driver closed the door again. Arthur raised his hand in farewell.
Amelia stood there for another moment as the car pulled away and faded into the anonymous London night. When she went upstairs this evening was going to end, and she was not yet ready for that to happen.
Tonight with Arthur had been nearly a fairytale, and tomorrow things were going to change. Not necessarily between herself and the man of whose intentions she was still uncertain, but between herself and the rest of the world. There had been photographs, official ones, at the Observatory, not of them happening to speak at a garden party, but of them at an event. Together. Whatever she and Arthur were doing, it was nothing
