The One That Got Away

She'd never forgotten her whirlwind student romance but had she left it too late to track him down?

- MARIE PENMAN

AIthough not quite at the age where the obituaries were the first thing she looked at in a newspaper, Angela often found herself drawn to the births, marriages and deaths page.

All life was revealed here, and in her overly-emotional menopausal state - she was fifty-two-she could occasionally be reduced to tears by announcements that were particularly touching.

David has died and although I am lost without him, I will forever be so glad that he chose to spend his life with me.

Or After eight years of trying, we have finally been blessed with a beautiful baby to love and cherish.

She enjoyed reading the notices in The Times most, perhaps because people occasionally chose to reveal more detail or to write more poetically. An old boyfriend from Angela's university days, who came from quite a well-off family, had told her that his mother "took The Times" and had proudly showed off his sister's engagement notice when it appeared in the paper.

Angela smiled as she thought of Tom. They'd shared a passionate couple of weeks at the end of their final term, when they were both twenty-one and not looking to settle down. After graduation, Tom had gone to volunteer in Malawi for a year and Angela had worked at Camp America, then had moved on to a relationship with a serious young man from Chicago, before finally leaving him and returning home to the UK.

She'd lost touch with Tom, of course - it was the days before mobile phones and social media - but she often thought of him as the one who got away. They had a real connection.

They'd met at a student party, where he'd poured her a glass of champagne and shook her hand politely as he introduced himself.

"Thomas Faber-but call me Tom. Only my mum calls me Thomas."