A Loving Light
Copyright© 2026 by Marc Nobbs
Chapter 4: Chosen Family
I woke before my alarm went off, despite not falling asleep until well after three. Lana and I watched a couple of episodes of a classic British sitcom she’d found on the iPlayer, then turned back to see ‘A Woman’s Work’ win its award. Carly wore a huge smile as she stood on stage next to Harry and Ellie, clutching her statuette. The award went to the songwriters, not the singer, but Harry and Ellie had insisted on giving Kayla a retrospective writing credit because, in Ellie’s words, “the song we recorded was different from the one we wrote, and that’s because of Kayla.”
By then, it was after two, and only the ‘big’ awards remained to be given out, so we decided to watch the rest of the show.
I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling. I’d already reached out to the empty space next to me.
I hated waking up alone.
I glanced to my right at the clock on my bedside table. It was just after seven-forty-five. I picked up the CD player remote from beside the clock, pointed it at my desk on the far side of the room, and hit ‘Play.’
Alabama Sweetheart came through the speakers at a low enough volume that it wouldn’t disturb my housemates. Although Mark and Imogen were probably already awake, since Mark had a nine o’clock lecture, and Vanessa was at her boyfriend’s house. Again.
Lana.
Lana was in Vanessa’s bed.
I’d almost forgotten.
Neither she nor I needed to be on campus until ten. I had Lexi Bennett’s lecture, and she had a seminar. But before we turned in last night, I’d offered to buy her breakfast at Jak’s, so she was either already awake or would be very soon.
I closed my eyes and pictured the scene as we parted last night.
Before we started watching the sitcom, Lana decided to change into her pyjamas. She might have updated her wardrobe after her GCSEs so that she was no longer, in her own words, ‘Mousey Alannah,’ but it didn’t look like she’d gone so far as to buy new pyjamas. When she joined me back downstairs, she was in a thick, heavy cotton red pyjama set covered in pictures of puppy dogs. Later that night, when we stood on the landing between our rooms, having a whispered discussion about the next morning, it was ... odd. She was a beautiful young woman in her pyjamas. It should have felt ‘sexy’ or ‘awkward,’ but it didn’t.
And after we’d decided to have breakfast, when she hugged me, and then stood on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek before going into Vanessa’s room, it felt...
Right.
It felt right.
I shook my head to clear it. I was starting to imagine what was underneath Lana’s pyjamas, and that wasn’t appropriate—she was in the room just across the hallway.
I looked at the clock again. It was five to eight now. I had time to make a pot of coffee—Lana might want some before we went out. Then I could jump in the shower. If we left the house at nine, that should give us plenty of time to eat breakfast and still make it to campus for ten.
I grabbed my robe from the back of my bedroom door, pulled it on, then walked out onto the landing.
And found Lana standing at the entrance to Vanessa’s room, still in her pyjamas and holding a towel and a wash bag.
“Hey,” I said. “Morning.”
She smiled. “Morning.”
“Sleep well?”
“Like a log. I always do after a couple of glasses of vino. You?”
I nodded. “I slept fine. I got another video from Carly about four that woke me up, though. I watched it, replied, then went straight back to sleep.”
“Show me later?”
“Sure.” I frowned. “Erm ... Why are you waiting there?”
“Because that big lump of a boyfriend of mine is taking longer in the shower than he needs to,” Imogen said, coming out of her room. “I’ll kill him. He said he’d be quick.”
I raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re waiting for the shower?”
Lana nodded.
I shrugged. “Use mine,” I said. Then to Imogen I added, “That way, you don’t have to wait until Lana’s finished to take yours.”
“Are you sure?” Lana said. “What about you?”
“Are you going to take as long as Mark?” I nodded towards the shared bathroom.
“No. I’ll be pretty quick.”
“So, it’s fine. I’ll go make a pot of coffee, and by the time that’s ready, you’ll be finished, and I can shower.”
“I wouldn’t want—”
“Lana, it’s fine. In fact, it makes the most sense.” I nodded towards my room. “Go on. I’ll go and sort the coffee out.”
She nodded and stepped forward out of Vanessa’s room. I stepped out onto the landing so she could enter my room.
She paused in front of me, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed my cheek. Then she slipped into my en-suite. I watched her until the door closed behind her and the lock clicked into place, then looked at Imogen.
She had that ‘look’ again. The one that said she knew something I didn’t, and that I was an idiot for not knowing it.
“What?” I said.
She shook her head. “Nothing.” Then she smirked. “Make sure there’s enough coffee for all of us. Well, for three of us. You may as well put the kettle on for Mark’s tea too.”
I nodded. “Sure. But he can make his own bloody tea. He only ever complains that I do it wrong. Mine’s too ‘southern,’ apparently.”
Jak raised an eyebrow at me when she came to take our order.
I raised an eyebrow back.
She smirked, then said, “The same pretty girl two visits in a row?” She put her hand to her mouth, covering it from Lana, then stage-whispered, “You must like this one. Am I right?”
I swear I saw Lana blush out of the corner of my eye. I shook my head and rolled my eyes at Jak, but when I looked at Lana, she was just smiling.
Innocent. Composed.
I arched an eyebrow at her, and her smile widened.
“What can I get you?” Jak asked. “The usual?”
I nodded. “Naturally. Lana?”
“Oh, just a breakfast. Full English?”
Jak nodded. “Two big breakfasts coming up. I’ll bring your tea over shortly.”
“Actually, could I have coffee, please?” Lana said. “I don’t really drink tea.”
Jak smiled. “No problem.”
“You drank Imogen’s tea yesterday,” I said as Jak went back to the counter.
“I was being polite.”
I stared at her. “Are you sure you’re British? Not ... I don’t know, French or Italian, or something?”
She shrugged. “I think there’s some French ancestry on my mum’s side, but I’m as British as roast potatoes.” She grinned. “I’ll do roasties on Wednesday when you come for dinner. My mum showed me how to do them properly.”
I nodded. “Okay, sounds good. My mum did wonderful roasties too. But I need to teach you how to drink tea.” I shook my head. “Coffee with a Full English. It’s bordering on sacrilege. Mark would have a fit if he found out.”
“Yes, well, what can you expect? He’s northern.” She grinned.
I grinned back. “Yeah. Very northern.”
Marie called ten minutes after my lecture ended. She knew my timetable and when she could and couldn’t call.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey, Paul. Are you busy today? I mean, other than your lectures, obviously. Any chance you can meet me for lunch?”
“Sure, no problem. Can I ask why?”
“I’ve got the initial sales figures for the first week of ‘Always.’ Thought you might like to see them.”
“You could just email them.”
“I could. But where’s the fun in that? I don’t get to see the look on your face when you find out.”
“Well, I already know they must be good. The song went straight to number one.”
“Here it did. But it did well in America, too. And in a lot of Europe and around the world. You’re going to be so surprised.”
“Okay. Well ... Meet me outside The Union at twelve?”
“Okay. Do I need to dress down again? Because I’d have to go home and change.” She giggled. She was referring to my first meeting with Ben and Amiee, my media law experts, when I’d asked Marie to dress in jeans and a hoodie to put them both off their guard. It didn’t work. They both took everything in their stride.
“I’m sure whatever you’re wearing is fine. I’ll see you at twelve.”
I met Imogen in the library after my call with Marie, and we studied for nearly an hour before heading across the Grand Plaza. Marie was already there, chatting with Lana and Lily by the clock tower.
As we neared the three young women, I heard Mark’s voice echoing in my mind. “Mate, tell me you don’t have a type.”
Marie spotted us first and smiled. Then Lana turned around, and a broad grin spread across her face. Lily also smiled warmly as we approached.
“Hey, Paul,” Lana said. “Doesn’t Marie look fabulous? We were just telling her how great she looks.”
Marie blushed and shrugged. “It’s just a normal office outfit. Nothing special.”
“I suppose you have to dress well when you’re meeting clients,” Lily said.
Marie’s blush deepened. “I don’t actually meet many clients. I sometimes sit in on meetings with David, but ... Well ... Paul is my only client. And he’s not really a client, he’s—”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “Do you bill me for the work you do?”
She nodded.
“Are you billing me for this lunch, even though I’m buying the food?”
She nodded.
“Then I’m a client.” I grinned. “Which means you have to be nice to me.”
Marie’s eyes went wide. “I’m always nice to you!”
I shrugged. “I know. Just reminding you to keep being nice to me.”
Lana slapped me on the arm. I looked at her and raised both eyebrows. It was exactly the kind of playful yet reprimanding slap that Imogen so often gave Mark. She giggled, then said, “Stop being mean.”
I rolled my eyes. “Come on, let’s go eat.”
We set off on the short walk to the Union building with Lana and Marie leading, walking side by side, while I fell into step a few paces behind, with Lily on my right and Imogen on my left.
I swear, Lana and Marie could have been sisters. Or perhaps cousins. Although one was dressed professionally and the other casually.
Both Lana’s jeans and Marie’s black pencil skirt showed off the curve of their hips—
Stop it!
“So,” Marie said to Lana, “are you the so-called ‘pretty girl’ that Paul took to the café two days in a row?”
“How did you know about that?” I asked.
Marie turned her head to look back at me. “Mum sent me a message this morning. She always does when you rock up at the café with a ‘pretty girl.’” She made air quotes with her fingers. “I’m surprised she doesn’t send me a photo, to be honest. I think she’s trying to make a point.”
“And what point is that?” I asked.
She grinned. “I think she’d quite like it if you and I ... You know. I keep telling her our relationship is purely professional, but she keeps saying, ‘I live in hope.’” She turned back to Lana. “So, was it you?”
Lana nodded. “It was. Aren’t I a lucky girl?” She giggled.
“Twice in two days,” Marie said. “Very lucky.” She giggled too. “I figured it was you from the way she described you. Well, I said ‘described you.’” She made air quotes again. “But what she actually said was ‘she looks just like you.’ Again, she was trying to make a point.”
“What point this time?” I said.
Marie again turned her head back to me. “That you have a ‘type’ and that I fit it.” She turned back to Lana. “As do you.” Then she turned to look at Lily. “You too.”
Lily grinned.
Finally, she looked at Imogen. “Sorry, Immy, but...” She shrugged.
“It’s fine,” Immy said. She flicked her long red hair, which she’d taken to using straighteners on in recent weeks to get rid of her natural curls. She tried to look aloof as she said, “I know where I stand.”
Then she ruined it by laughing, which caused the other three to laugh too.
“I am right here, you know,” I said.
Lana glanced back at me and said, “Hush, Paul.”
With wide eyes, I said, “Did you just ‘hush’ me?”
She smirked and shrugged. “We were talking about you, not to you.”
“Fine,” I said. “You can buy your own lunch.” I looked around. “All of you.”
“That’s fine,” Marie said. “I’ll cover it, put it on expenses and charge it to Wintersmith.”
“Wha...” My mouth opened and closed, but that was the only sound that came out. “And when did you start calling Imogen by Mark’s pet name for her?”
“Loads of people call me Immy, Paul,” Imogen said. “You’re about the only one that doesn’t these days.”
“I ... I...” I huffed. “Where’s Mark when I need him?”
“So, are you going to give me these sales figures?” I asked after we’d sat down with our meals. We were at my favourite table, by the window overlooking the town and Westmouth Bay beyond.
“You want them now?” Marie said, glancing at the others. I was by the window, opposite Marie. Lana was next to me, opposite Lily. Immy was next to Lana.
I glanced down the table, too.
“These three are part of my ‘chosen family,’” I said. “And so are you. They all know about Wintersmith and that I’ve funded Carly’s album. I have no secrets from them.” I glanced down the table again. “Right?”
Immy nodded. So did Lily, who also said, “Yep.”
I looked at Lana.
She stared back at me. Then blinked.
“Chosen family?” she smiled. “Really? You really think of me that way?”
I nodded. “I do.”
She shook her head. “Paul, I...” She blinked again. Hard. As if she was fighting back tears. “Thank you.”
I nodded. “Unguarded. Right?”
She nodded.
“Unguarded?” said Lily.
Lana looked at her. “Yeah. Unguarded.”
One of those ‘looks’ passed between them that even I knew said, “I’ll tell you later.”
I noticed Immy looking back and forth between Lana and Lily, too. She didn’t say anything, but she caught Lily’s eye, and Lily nodded.
I shook my head. Why did they have to do that non-verbal thing all the time? It was like a secret code.
I looked back at Marie as Immy took out her phone. What was she telling Chloë’s group chat now?
“So, come on,” I said. “Sales figures.”
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