Maria lay in the bath, her head back as she closed her eyes. She tried to both relax and concentrate intently, searching for a way back into that someone else. It was no good, however; the memory was nothing more than that and she could not be another person today. Not on her own. She tried to let her mind drift and enjoy the memory for what it was, but her thoughts were insistent. ‘You have to go back, Maria. You must find out if it is always so exhilarating. It’s not like you can’t afford it, is it?’ The bath ceased to be relaxing now and she felt anxiety, as though she was late for something. ‘You are late.’ Maria thought. ‘You’re late for a date you haven’t made yet.’
Maria had an old head on her twenty-three-year-old shoulders, though she was not immune to the foolish mistakes of you
