Begin Again | on hold

thirty-two

After an hour-long expedition to her flat and back to collect a year's worth of forgotten memories, Sunny is back on Viv's sofa – the blue one – with a stack of books and CDs and photographs and scrawled-in notebooks, and she isn't alone. Delilah is lying across the pale yellow sofa with a thick blanket over her legs and a cat on her stomach. The minute Delilah arrived, Britney wrapped herself around her legs and purred her raucous contentment – she is an impeccable judge of character, instantly understanding that Delilah is safe.

Sunny picks up a wallet full of glossy photos, the kind from a disposable camera that has to be taken to the chemist to get the pictures printed, only then revealing the quality of the 27 photos inside. More than 27, actually. There's more than one camera's worth of photos in here. They're stamped on the back with the date they were printed – the 9th of September, 1999 – and there's only one blurry disaster, like the picture was taken while the camera-holder was falling down a flight of stairs.

But the rest? The rest show Sunny and her friends posing together, laughing together, lying on the beach in the hot August sun; there's one of Viv pulling a goofy face in the sea, the water knee-high. In another, Viv is topless, lying face down on a towel, and Sunny is straddling her back with a tube of suncream in her hand and a wicked grin aimed at whoever is holding the camera.

There is nothing out of the ordinary in any of the pictures. A lot of them are poorly framed or on the cusp of overexposed. But they are snapshots of a life, glimpses into the year that Sunny forgot. She swallows down a lump in her throat as she flips through a summer of fun, a summer filled with beach days and picnics in the park, and—

The lump doubles in size when the scenery changes and it takes a moment before Sunny pieces together the buildings and the bridges and realises that the background of this picture of her with her parents is New York. The retirement celebration trip. There they are on the Brooklyn Bridge. There they are at the top of the Empire State Building. There they are at the twin towers; in Central Park; on the Staten Island Ferry; hitting all the tourist spots with camera-ready grins.

"Oh my gosh, this is so cute," Delilah says, one hand on the cat, the other holding a photo Sunny dropped. It's one of her mothers on the ferry with their backs to Manhattan, the wind whipping their hair into a storm. Martha's arm is around Sylvia's waist; Sylvia's arm is around Martha's shoulders. Their heads are nearly touching. Sylvia is looking out past the camera, but Martha's eyes are fixed on her wife.

Delilah hands the photo to Sunny and says, "Your mums are goals. This ... this is what I want."

Sunny takes the picture and flips it over, and it jars her to see her own writing on the back in pale pencil grey. I'll have what they're having! Note to self – check if Viv looks at me the way Mum looks at Mum. She laughs and shows it to Delilah, who gives her a knowing smile.

"She does, by the way," she says. Without disturbing Britney, she finds another pile of pictures that she rifles through until she finds the one she's looking for – one of Sunny and Viv in a not too dissimilar position: arms around each other's waists, standing on a blustery, autumnal hill at sunset. Sunny is grinning at the camera, but Viv is looking at Sunny. It's the same look Martha gave Sylvia. The kind of look that says you are my world; I only have to look at you to smile.

"Damn," Sunny murmurs. She knows Viv loves her, she has heard it so many times in the last couple of weeks and it makes her glow every time, but here, she really sees it. Sees the adoration in Viv's eyes and the light in her smile. "Who took this?"

"Me. Fraser wanted some inspiration for an autumn exhibition he was doing so we all went for a walk up Black Hill. I think it was the middle of October, so the leaves were changing and the conkers were out, and you two were looking incredibly photogenic."