I took a step back, shaking off his hands. “I’m fine. I’m sick of people asking me.”

“For Christ’s sake,” he said. He had that look on his face that was worse than anger, that helpless, lost look, the one that turned his face into the face of someone much younger and more vulnerable. It turned something in me, digging deep.

“I feel like I should know what’s wrong,” he said. “There’s nothing you can’t tell me, you know that, don’t you? How can I help you if you won’t tell me?”

I spoke above the blood rushing in my ears. “There’s nothing to tell.”

He stepped back, raising his hands in a gesture of defeat. “Is it–” he said and then stopped.

“What?”

“Are you?” he said, and then stopped again.

I could feel the wine churning in my stomach and swallowed hard. “Are you having an affair?”

I was so surprised and so relieved at his mistake that a shout of laughter escaped me. He looked bewildered. I kept laughing, I couldn’t help it.

“Oh Matt,” I said. I went up to him and put my arms round his neck, brushing my face against his bristly cheek. “I’m not having an affair. I promise you.”

He stepped back and looked at me. “Sorry,” he said after a moment. “I don’t know why I said that.”

“No, I’m sorry,” I said. Relief was making me feel weak and tired. “I’m sorry I lost my temper. I shouldn’t have done. There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m just tired and I’m – I’m grieving.”

“I know,” said Matt. He put a hand up to his face, pushing his fingers underneath his glasses to rub between his eyes. He looked as tired as I felt. “We’d better get back to Becca,” Matt sighed. “Just – look, please don’t embarrass me again tonight. Or yourself. Please don’t have any more to drink.”

I clenched my jaw but I made myself nod. We walked back into the kitchen and I pinned a smile on my face. Rebecca sat with the elaborately casual air of someone pretending they hadn’t heard a word of an argument.

I sat down, keeping my back to the window so as not to have to look out. I forced myself to listen to Becca and Matt, smile at appropriate places in their conversation and all the while, I ran over my strange meeting with my lost best friend, again and again and again.

Chapter Twenty Two

It was in one of the few moments of the day that I wasn’t thinking about Jessica when she reappeared. I’d just left the flat, heading for my gym and a swimming session. I’d been neglecting my exercise routine lately and it was making me feel uncomfortable; not only did I feel fat and unfit, but gentle regular exercise was one of the many ways I kept the demons at bay.

Matt and I had spent Christmas very quietly, just the two of us eating a meal at home and watching old films on TV, but I’d over-eaten, drunk far too much, and I was feeling the effects. It was time for me to start being a bit more self-denying. I was looking forward to the warm water, the echoing footsteps of the other swimmers as they walked beside the pool, the wobbling light reflected onto the ceiling. I would swim thirty lengths, shower and treat myself at the gym’s café.

So my mind was elsewhere. I was walking away from the building when I heard my name spoken and, simultaneously, a hand on my shoulder. In the two seconds it took me to spin round and recognise her, I felt my heart give a gigantic thud. I breathed in sharply, the reverse of a scream and my hands went up to my face. A man walking towards me must have seen my panic as he hesitated for a second and then obviously thought better of asking me if I was alright. Jessica stood there on the pavement in her long black coat. She put the hand she touched me with back into her pocket.

“Sorry,” she said. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

I managed a shaky laugh. She put her head on one side. Her blonde hair glowed in the dull light of the winter afternoon. She looked better than before; healthier, somehow.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“I–” I opened my mouth and shut it again. My head buzzed with the backwash of adrenaline. “I was, but it’s not important.”

There was a short silence.

“Will you come and have a drink with me?”

We went to pub two streets away; I’d passed it often but hadn’t been into it. There were tables outside on the pavement and Jessica gestured to one of them.

“Mind if we sit outside so I can smoke?”

I nodded. I was feeling light-headed again. I pinched a fold of my coat between my fingers; something tangible that I could keep hold of. I kept staring at the table while Jessica went to get our drinks. Perhaps she wouldn’t come back again and I’d be sat here alone, as minutes lengthened into hours...

A glass of wine appeared on the table before me, Jessica’s hand placing it carefully on the weathered wood. She had long, curved nails, unvarnished, a chunky silver ring on the middle finger of her right hand. I had no recollection of ordering wine but I had no recollection of almost anything of the past ten minutes.

My head felt as if it were stuffed with angry wasps. I put both hands up to my temples, pressing inwards, closing my eyes for a brief moment.

The table rocked as Jessica slotted herself into the opposite seat and a splash of wine fell from my glass to land in a bloody little smear on the tabletop.

“Sorry,” said Jessica. She had a glass of white wine in front of her, which had also spilt. I watched as a thin, clear trickle flowed towards the little puddle of red.

“So,” she finally said, her head on one side again, looking at me and smiling slightly.

I took a shaky sip of my drink, resisting the urge to gulp.

“What do you want?” I blurted out.

Jessica raised her eyebrows. “That’s blunt.”

“Sorry. I’m just…” I trailed off.

“It’s alright, Maudie,” she said, speaking rather slowly. She didn’t try and touch my hand. I stared up at the white sky, stretching my eyes wide and breathing deeply. Jessica took a sip of her drink, just sitting there opposite me, quietly.

I kept hold of my fold of coat, pleating it and releasing it. The palms of my hands were sweating.

The silence became too much.

“How did you know I was going to come out of the house? Were you waiting?” I said.

She shook her head, breathing out smoke. “Pot luck,” she said. “I’d waited for you a few times before but I never caught you. I’d only been there about five minutes today before you appeared.”

“Why didn’t you ring the doorbell?”

She gave me a half smile and a one-shoulder shrug.

I nodded, although I didn’t really understand.

“Do you live with anyone?” she said.

“Yes, my husband.” I took another sip of my drink. “His name’s Matt but he’s out at the moment.”

Her eyebrows went up. “Your husband? You’re married?” She shook her head. “I can’t believe you’re married. My God – how long for?”

“Almost three years now.” I looked down at my bare hands and saw her look too. “I left my ring at home today – I was off to the gym.”

She nodded and there was a short silence.

“Are you?” I said.

“Am I what?”

“Married?”

She gave a short bark of a laugh. “No.”

I decided not to ask about children, because I didn’t want her to ask me. We both sipped our drinks in silence. Jessica stubbed out her cigarette and almost immediately lit another one.

“Maudie, I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m finding this as difficult as you. I just don’t know – I don’t know where to start. Where do you start, with this situation?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

“It’s too–” she said, and then stopped abruptly.

“Everyone thought you were dead,” I said. The smoke from her cigarette drifted across the table and into my eyes, making me blink.