It was two decades before he was rocked by the memory of Millie again. Craig was working at a hospital in Sheffield when he saw her; well, not her exactly, but an almost perfect carbon copy, apart from the eyes which were strangely familiar, but not the same dazzling green he remembered of Millie's.
The memories came flooding back, he remembered the night they spent above the bar, the feel of her body next to his, the sound and urgency of her voice as she begged him to fuck her, the grip of her slender thighs around his waist as she pulled him deeper. He felt light headed and had to sit down to collect his thoughts.
Twenty years ago, the day after they made love, he returned to his holiday apartment. Todd, his friend, refused to speak to him, he blamed Craig for Ryan, his new best friend and Millie's then boyfriend, getting arrested. The next few days in the apartment were tense, so, the day before Ryan was released, Craig returned home, cutting his holiday short. Ryan stayed in the apartment with Todd and they returned home together. Craig hadn't heard from Todd since; it was no great loss.
When Craig returned home after his holiday, he tried to contact Millie; the phone rang, unanswered, so he drove across the Pennines to the address she'd written in her parting note. The flat was empty. Unsure as to whether she'd given him a false address and phone number, he knocked on a neighbour's door and asked if he knew the people next door. "Not sure pal." Was the reply. "I only ever heard them arguing. Never seen her, only him. They've been quite last two weeks, probably on holiday." The door closed in Craig's face.
He tried in vain to track her down. Two weeks after Todd returned home, Craig drove to Sheffield. He sat in his car, down the road from her flat, her front door visible from his position; but he only saw Ryan. He rang the number from a payphone, but it was only Ryan who answered, Craig just hung up.
He looked for her for another two months, but without her surname, and in day's before the Internet and mobile phones were commonplace, it was impossible. He gave up hope two years later, resigning himself to the fact that he'd never find her.
Six months later, he met Stephanie, the girl he was going to marry. Two years after that, they had a child. When his daughter Emily was sixteen, Stephanie left him for another man; she'd been having an affair with him for two years. Craig had now been single for over a year, and he was finally happy in himself; but now he felt like his past was coming back to torture him.
As he reclined against the seat, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Are you okay sir?" The voice asked.
"Fine." Craig replied. He looked up, shocked. "Millie?"
"No." She said, "I'm Charlotte. Most people call me Lottie. My mum is Millie though. Do you know her?"
"I'm, I'm not sure." Craig stammered, "I met a Millie on holiday years ago. You look so much like her."
"Like this?" She said as she pulled out a locket and opened it. Craig nearly feinted as the picture of Millie swam into focus. On the other side was a picture of a man he didn't know.
"How?" He started, but was unable to go on. She took out her purse, opened it and pulled out a battered picture. A man, looking very much like a younger him, was holding a microphone in a place he remembered from his youth.
"Is this you?" Lottie asked.
"I think so." He said. "Where did you get this?"
"My mum took it ages ago. Said it was someone she met on holiday in Ibiza, just before I was born. She told me lots about him."
"How is she?." He replied. "I tried to find her..."
"She's well." Lottie replied as Craig trailed off into his own memories. "Do you want me to give her a message?"
"Is she here?" He asked.
"No, she's in town, in work. I can text her though. Not that she's any good with phones though. Probably hasn't even got it switched on."
"Could you?" He implored.
"Tell you what," She said, "Mum's just getting the hang of Snapchat." She raised her phone, the camera clicked and Lottie typed in a quick message.
"Guess who I've bumped into?" Said the message, across a photo of his face. She received a reply almost immediately.
"She must have it switched on for once." Lottie said, "She never replies that fast!"
"If it's to tell me to get lost, I understand."
"Quite the opposite!" Lottie beamed. "Are you free to come for tea?"
"Let me check my diary." He joked. "What time do you want me there?"
"Well I finish here at 5:30, so you could give me a lift home; if you don't mind, of course?"
"That would be perfect." He grinned, "Shall we meet back here then, then?"
She nodded enthusiastically, then gave him a hug. "We've not had anyone around for tea for ages." She said, "I'm quite excited!"
She walked back into the hospital, the ghost of her perfume still on his collar as she reached the door, turned to wave, then disappeared into the building.
Craig returned to his little office and sat behind his desk. Looking at the clock, he had another four hours before he'd see Lottie again, then a bit longer until he'd see Millie. The hours dragged; he tried filling them with work, but each job that seemed to last an hour, only took around ten minutes. Even surfing the Internet didn't eat up the hours it usually did. By the time 5:30 came along, he was exhausted.
All tiredness was forgotten when, at 5:35, Lottie walked towards him; her big beaming smile lit a path in front of her. Several heads turned, and the people she passed seemed to be warmed by her sunny countenance.
"Not done a runner then?" She said as she reached him.
"Wouldn't dream of it!" He said, "I've been waiting years for this."
"You've not tasted Mum's cooking yet!" She joked. "Take me to your chariot."
They walked towards his car, which was parked in a side street. On the way home she asked Craig how he and her mother had met; he told her a clean version of the story, and how he'd tried to look for Millie when he returned. He asked about Lottie; she was a medical secretary for a consultant and had worked there for two years after gaining a degree at Uni. Craig felt quite proud of Lottie, although he wasn't quite sure why.
They pulled up outside a semi-detached Victorian house in quite a nice area. Lottie got out, fished her keys from her bag and opened the door; the smell of cooking wafted out to Craig as Lottie grabbed his hand and pulled him in. "It's too late now." She said to him, then shouted, "Mum! I've brought a strange man home!"
"Well let me look at him before you wear him out like the last one!" Millie shouted from the kitchen. She appeared in the doorway, her smile, the same as her daughter's, lit up the room.
"Where the hell have you been?" She said seriously, but he could sense the underlying humour in her voice. She rushed to him and hugged him fiercely. He returned the hug, not wanting to release her. She smelled of cooking and perfume.
"I'll finish making tea then, shall I?" Lottie said.
"Mmmm." Millie replied as Lottie left them for the kitchen.
They retired to the lounge as Lottie made tea; sitting together on the couch and holding hands, their knees together. "So," Millie said, "What kept you?"
Craig told her how he'd searched, fruitlessly, for her, and how he'd never really given up hope of finding her one day. He told her about Stephanie, and how Emily had helped hold him together when she left them.