Going Home (33 page)

‘I didn’t do that!’ I said.

‘Hm,’ said Tom, drinking deeply. ‘Whatever.’ Aunt Dahlia moved off, smiling uncertainly, and I took a sip of champagne. ‘It was a nice speech though, Lizzy. Well done,’ he added.

‘Thanks,’ I said.

I was starting to feel slightly better, but I sat quietly and observed the scene in front of me as the setting sun cast long shadows across the crowd in the marquee. It was that stage of a wedding where the rhythm of the day is clearly established, the food has been eaten, love has been distributed by the giving of the speeches, and people sitting next to each other have worked out if they’re going to snog or not. I watched Gibbo feed Chin a slice of cake and they
chatted quietly, absorbed in each other. (‘Cut the cake in front of everyone? Standing there like a page-three girl while some mad old cousins take photos of you with a knife in your hand smiling gormlessly? Do get a grip, Lizzy. The caterers can earn their crust and cut it up themselves.’)

Mike was chatting to Kate, his hand on the back of her chair. She had turned to face him and was looking right at him. They were obviously having one of those conversations where it is not OK to mooch up and sigh, ‘Hi! How’re you? Can I join you!’ Mike looked sad; Kate looked sad. They both looked vulnerable, like real people, rather than my relatives from a different generation. Mike brushed something out of his eyes and smiled at something Kate said, then moved his chair closer to hers. I looked at Tom to see if he was taking this in. He was. ‘What’s going on there, do you think?’ I said softly.

‘Don’t know,’ said Tom warily.

At that moment Miles, still talking to Jacquetta on his other side, put his hand on my thigh and moved it in search of my hand. When he found it, he squeezed it. A sixth sense made me look up and there, standing behind him, was David. I slid my hand out of Miles’s, and nodded at him.

‘Are you having a good time?’ I said.

‘Yes,’ said David shortly, looking at Miles. ‘Are you OK?’

‘Oh, fine, thanks, just superb. [
Superb?
Good grief.] Thanks, by the way.’

‘What for?’ David said.

‘This.’ I raised the order of service. I looked away, back up at him. ‘How’s your table?’

‘Good. Mando. Some Australian cousins of Gibbo’s. Rosalie and Mike. Kate. They’re chatting so I thought I’d go for a stroll. You know, see how you all are.’

I realised he was slightly drunk. His eyes were glittering and his jaw was set.

Miles turned easily to his brother and said, ‘You staying, mate? Or do you think you’ll leave before the band starts?’

‘Is that what you want me to do, mate?’ David said, with a tight smile. ‘Of course, if that’s what’s most convenient for you two, I certainly don’t…’ He trailed off, swallowed as if he would say more, but stopped himself. ‘Yep, I think I’ll head off soon.’

‘Oh right,’ I said.

David looked at me. ‘There’s nothing I need to stay for now, is there?’ He inclined his head, as if he was making a tiny bow, and walked off.

‘Oh, God,’ said Miles, reaching for another cigarette and sliding his arm round me. ‘He’ll be fine, don’t worry about it. He’s always been a bit of a drama queen, hasn’t he?’

He pulled me to him and kissed the top of my head. I swivelled round in time to catch David at the edge of the marquee, still watching us.

‘Sorry,’ Miles said. ‘I thought he’d gone.’

Jacquetta of the underwear leaned forward again, her lace top slack against her bony shoulders and collarbone. ‘So, Miles, what do you do?’ she said, lighting a cigarette and smiling at him.

‘Well,’ said Miles, purring like a cat, ‘I’m afraid it’s not a very interesting answer, but…I’m an accountant.’ He smiled self-deprecatingly.

Jacquetta purred back at him: ‘No, not at all. I think accountancy’s really intriguing.’

Suddenly a thought came into my head: was Miles always like this, or was he doing it to make David or me jealous? Would I always be watching out for the gorgeous girl on the other side of him at a wedding? And if I was, why didn’t I mind?

Tom caught my eye and raised an eyebrow. ‘Yeurch,’ he said, which was comforting somehow, as if Miles was our
old friend again, not my other half. He held out a hand to me. ‘Let’s get out of here – go and have a walk in the garden.’

So we set off hand in hand, as if we were Tom and Lizzy aged six again, and walked out of the marquee on to the lawn, which sloped down to the gardens and the house. I could hear the soft murmur of conversation from other people outside and felt the delicious cool of the evening on my bare skin. Tom stopped to light a cigarette and I gazed down at the house.

‘I can’t believe we don’t have to leave,’ I said, feeling rather emotional but not wanting to make a song and dance about it.

‘Me either,’ said Tom. ‘It seemed so wrong, but now that it’s all been sorted out I keep thinking it’s a dream and we’ll wake up and have to leave again.’

Dad appeared behind us, a glass in his hand. He was tootling a tune under his breath. ‘Hello there,’ he said, rocking on the balls of his feet. ‘Pretty nice, isn’t it?’

‘Yes,’ I said, nudging him. ‘You happy?’

‘Bloody delirious,’ said Dad, throwing his arms round us and squeezing. ‘Hurrah, hurrah, for your awful, nightmarish aunt and her wonderful Mary Poppins ways.’

‘Hear hear,’ said Tom.

I felt something wet on my arm and looked down. Dad, in his expansive moment of joy, had flung red wine in a long thin streak down my dress. ‘Oh, Dad, you mallet,’ I wailed. ‘My lovely dress! I’ll have to go and get a cloth.’

‘Sorry,’ said Dad, contrite. ‘I’ll look after your glass.’

I hurried down the path that led past the lavender and the walled garden, round the side of the house, past the shed with the battle-wagon in it, grabbed a towel from the collection that resided by the back door with the wellies and the recycling, wet it with water from the outside tap and dabbed
my dress. Then I took off my shoes and walked back up the path, listening to the voices, trying to recognise from the moans who was snogging whom in the garden, and trying not to feel annoyed with Miles. A burly drummer from the band who were to play squeezed past me clutching a sheaf of music and his sticks as I did tiny pigeon-steps up the path, feeling the cold, soft, muddy grass beneath my poor tired feet.

I could hear Dad and Tom chatting companionably in the way men do, and stopped to admire them in their natural habitat.

‘Good solid wall that, always has been,’ Dad said ruminatively.

‘Yup.’ Tom did a head bob in agreement. I walked a little closer, smiling broadly.

‘Band sound good. I expect people’ll enjoy that too,’ Dad went on.

‘I’m sure they will,’ Tom said.

‘Hello, David,’ said Dad. ‘Haven’t seen you yet today, how are you?’

I stepped back and did a tiny slide, then a tiny shriek, and ended up gently hugging a rose bush with my bottom. ‘Ark grr sss,’ I said softly to myself, trying to stand up and hoping I wasn’t horribly drunk. So much for saving the dress.

I turned to go back down the path but there, at the bottom, were Mike and Kate, by the entrance to the back door where I’d just come from. She was crying. He had his arm round her and reached up to brush a tear away from her nose. The honeysuckle growing over the wooden posts by the kitchen garden framed them in the dusk. I prayed David, Dad and Tom would take a manly stroll round the garden.

Tom said, ‘You OK, David?’

There was silence. I looked up towards the rose bush and leant against the kitchen wall to see if I could see David’s
face, but all I could make out was a quarter-profile, impossible to read.

‘Well,’ Dad said, ‘it’s lovely to see you. I know Chin’s glad you could come. Have you spoken to Suzy yet? She’ll want a word, I’m sure, to see how you are.’

David laughed, a nice laugh. ‘That’s very kind of her. I’ll go and find her in a minute.’

‘Well, it’s good to see you again,’ Dad said again. He sounded a bit stiff. ‘Yes, we liked having you around. Old Suzy misses that, you know. It’s a shame things didn’t go according to plan with – with Lizzy.’ He paused and coughed. ‘Harrumph. But I suppose that’s the way – that’s the way it happens, isn’t it. Is it?’

I bit my lip and flattened my palms against the brick of the wall. It was scratchy, sharp against my skin.

‘I know.’ It was David. I couldn’t see his expression. He was silent, and then I heard him say, almost in a rush, ‘I’ve thought about it a lot. Things just don’t go according to plan, and that’s the only way I can explain it. I – I wish it had been different, though. I still don’t understand it.’

I held my breath. Come on, Tom, say something. Don’t let him get away with it for the millionth time. ‘Well, I don’t see why,’ Tom’s voice rang out clear like a bell in the night air.

‘You’re the one who slept with someone else, David. You were having an affair behind her back.
’

There was a short silence. I could feel Dad’s embarrassment even from where I was lurking.

‘What?’ David said.

‘Come on, no point in raking all this up again,’ Dad said.

‘What did you say?’ David said. He stepped forward and I could see his face more clearly, harsh, angular in the dark.

‘You were having an affair. With the girl who was your colleague,’ Tom repeated.

‘Me?’ David said. I could hardly hear him. ‘I was having an affair? When?’

Tom sounded belligerent. ‘Whatever, David. Let’s get another drink, shall we? Forget about it.’

David grabbed Tom’s arm. ‘Sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he said, as my father, who had turned away, spun back. ‘I haven’t had an affair. When I was with Lizzy? Are you mad?’

‘You slept with that bitch Lisa Garratt,’ Tom reeled off, parrot fashion.

The brick wall was painful now against my shoulder-blades but, in a strange way, I liked it: there was something almost reassuring about it.

David drew himself up to his full height. ‘John, I’m sorry about this. Look, Tom, you’re mad. She kissed me at a party – Lizzy knows that. She literally came up to me and stuck her tongue down my throat. I never slept with her and I certainly wasn’t having an affair with her. I don’t—’ he put his hand out, as if he was trying to hold on to something invisible. He sounded hoarse. ‘We – Look, this is mad. I’m not going through the reasons why, but we split up because Lizzy – well, she just fell out of love with me. I thought she loved me and then she just changed. Once I was away in New York, she lost interest. She suddenly told me it was over and I—’ He stopped. ‘I’m going.’

Tom isn’t a lawyer for nothing. He wasted no time in gawping and going, ‘Oh, my God!’ which was what I would have done. He said quickly, ‘David, get back here. Stop. Stand here, listen to me. You were caught – come on, David! You were caught at the photocopying machine at work a week later. Miles told her! Are you saying Lizzy made it all up?’

Miles.

‘What?’ David said. I could see his chest rising and falling.

Dad said, suddenly, ‘I’m afraid we know about it all, David. Not very nice.’

‘No!’ David said, and there was fury in his voice. ‘Is that what Lizzy thinks? Do you know what I went—Where is she? You think – you all think I
slept with someone
?’ His head fell forward. And then he looked up and into the distance, just where I was standing. He looked almost right at me, and I crouched down even further, he couldn’t find me there then, I couldn’t bear it. He said, ‘Miles. Where’s Miles?’

‘David,’ said Tom, uneasily, ‘I know you’re not happy about Miles and Lizzy but…just get over it, OK? He’s mad about her.’

‘Ah, John!’ said a fruity voice. ‘Marvellous to see you, old boy. Wonderful day. Y’sister never looked better. Stunning gel. I was wondering, would it be possible to take a look at the Edwin Walters? Rather a speciality of mine, you know.’

‘Of course, Sebastian,’ Dad said. ‘My pleasure. Come with me. David, Tom, I’ll see you in a minute.’

Oh, my God, I thought, they’re about to come down the path. I braced myself to shrink further into the bush until I realized it’d never work. Thankfully, my father said, ‘Let’s go through the garden. It’s quite nice at this time of year, even at night.’

‘Wonderful idea. Beautiful pointing,’ said Sebastian, whoever he was.

Thank you, Lord, I muttered to myself, as Tom and David stood alone, staring at each other.

‘I mean it, David,’ Tom said again. ‘Don’t cause a scene. I know you want to. It’s all in the past. He loves her. He really does.’

‘He…he loves her.’ David stopped. ‘And you think I don’t? You think I wanted to split up with her? That it’s OK she’s…Miles! Where is he? I need to talk to him.’

He started to walk away, Tom running after him. ‘Why?’ Tom said urgently. David stopped and turned to him.

‘Miles did this,’ he said, his voice carrying on the night air. ‘He must have told Lizzy. Getting caught in the photocopying room shagging someone? You really think I’d do that to Lizzy? Anyway, that’s how I know.’

‘Know what?’ said Tom.

David spoke slowly: ‘How I know it must have been Miles. He was cautioned at work last year for doing the same thing. My God.’ He passed a hand across his forehead. ‘My own brother. Come on.’

From the marquee a microphoned voice rang out: ‘Come on! Laydeez-n-gennlemen, there’ll be no first dance tonight, so instead get ready to rock around the clock as the Frank Walden Band gets this party started with some Stevie Wonder! “Superstition”, coming right up!’

I stood up and stared after them as they disappeared, David striding ahead, Tom trotting behind him. I looked at my hand. It was covered in little red blood spots. The red wine stain on my dress had dried. It was funny to think that ten minutes ago it hadn’t been there.

I scurried up the path and ran towards the marquee, my shoes in my hand, heart pounding. The band was in full swing: Rosalie and Gibbo were doing synchronized disco movements together. (‘First dance? Stumble around the floor with two-left-feet Gibbo? While everyone watches and laughs and points? You must be joking.’) But I was too late. David and Miles were outside, flanked by Tom and Jess. David wasn’t shouting, but his voice sent a chill through me.

‘What do you mean, it was just a bit of fun?’ he was saying.

I couldn’t see Miles’s face. ‘Look, mate,’ he said, putting up his hands in a gesture of self-defence. ‘It’s all in the past now, isn’t it? Let’s forget about it, OK?’

‘No, I fucking won’t forget about it,’ David said. ‘Listen to me, you little shit. What did you tell Lizzy last year? It was you, wasn’t it? She thinks I had a fucking affair with someone and you told her that, didn’t you?’ He grabbed the lapels of Miles’s jacket and pulled him up so they were face to face.

‘David, stop it,’ I yelled. ‘Stop it now, put him down. What are you doing?’

‘Lizzy, you fool,’ David said, and let go of Miles so suddenly that he staggered and almost fell over. He came over to me. ‘Is that what you’ve been thinking? Is that what he told you? God, all this time I’ve been trying to understand why you ended it, and it was
because of this
?’

‘Yes,’ I said, as the song finished and the crowd in the marquee whooped loudly. ‘But you admitted it. You told me you were sleeping with someone else.’

‘What?
What
?’ He turned back to Miles. ‘Miles?’ His voice was slow, broken. ‘Do you realize what you’ve done?’

‘I didn’t do anything,’ Miles’s hair was wild in the moonlight. ‘I must have got the wrong end of the stick, mate. Right? Honestly. I thought you were shagging someone else. That you just weren’t keen on her any more.’

‘
No!
‘ David shouted. I jumped. ‘For God’s sake, no! You’ve lied to her all along and now you’re lying to me. Lizzy, do you really not understand? It’s all a lie. And you believe it. My God—’ He broke off and collected himself as I stared at him, trying to re-evaluate the events of the last year.

‘Look,’ said Miles, smoothing his hair. ‘You need to calm down, David. It’s all in the past now. Lizzy’s with me, and we’re in love. You weren’t the right one for her – was he, Lizzy? – and we’re happy. So it’s all worked out anyway, even if I did help it along. To get what I wanted. Just once.’ He put his arm round me and pulled me towards him.

I pushed him away. ‘Get off me.’

Miles looked at me with amusement, but there was fear in his eyes too, and desperation, as if he was trying to walk a tight-rope. ‘Come on, Lizzy. I know I shouldn’t have lied, but…hasn’t this all worked out for the best?’

‘I don’t love you.’ I said. David was breathing heavily as if he had been running.

‘I know,’ Miles said soothingly. ‘I know you don’t just
yet, but you will. I’m here to look after you, to take care of things. Like this. Look, shall we…’ He glanced around. ‘Tom, do you think it’d be OK if we slipped off a little early? I’ll take Lizzy back to the hotel.’

‘I don’t love you,’ I said again.

‘Yes, I know,’ Miles said, a little impatiently.

‘But I was in love with him,’ I said.

‘Right,’ said Miles. I don’t think he was even listening properly.

‘Miles,’ I said slowly, ‘I was in love with him. Don’t you understand?’

‘No, you weren’t,’ said Miles.

‘She was,’ David said, and I jumped at the sound of his voice so close to mine. ‘She was,’ he repeated conversationally. ‘I loved her too, if that matters to you at all. You know. No big deal. But it’s too late now.’ He turned to face me, and said quietly, only to me, ‘Lizzy, how could you have believed him? How could you think I’d do that to you?’

‘I don’t know.’ I couldn’t bear to see his face. I closed my eyes.

‘Look at me, Lizzy. How could you think that? Didn’t you know how much I loved you?’

It was heartbreaking. ‘I didn’t want to believe him,’ I said, my voice breaking, ‘but it was so weird after you went away, and you were fine, and I didn’t want to show you how much I missed you.’ The words were tumbling out. I couldn’t stop them. ‘And I thought I was fine because I knew you loved me, but when I thought you didn’t, that I’d got it all wrong – oh, I don’t know. I can’t do this any more.’ There were tears running down my cheeks and I wiped them off with the back of my hand. I didn’t feel cross or angry, I just felt tired.

I stared up into his dark brown eyes, searching for something to hold on to, a small piece of hope.

‘I can’t believe you thought I’d do that. To you. To you, Lizzy. I can’t believe you’re that weak. It’s too late. I’m sorry.’

He turned and walked away. I watched him stoop to go under the honeysuckle and then he disappeared. He would walk through the courtyard, past the mulberry tree in full flower, with the windows of the house watching him. He would walk out of the gate, down the lane, where the lacy white cow parsley and the elderflowers gleamed eerily in the moonlight, and the light green of the oak trees shone luminously in the dark. He would walk down that path, over the tiny bridge across the river, in the moonlight back to his mother’s cottage and I knew I might never see him again.

I understood everything now. And there was almost nothing I could do about it. Almost nothing.

A voice spoke behind me. ‘Come on, Lizzy. Come and have a drink. Let’s talk about it,’ said Miles, stroking my shoulder.

I grabbed his lapel, just as David had, and kept my voice steady, although I wanted to scream. ‘Miles,’ I said, ‘I’m trying to understand you. I know you’re jealous of David. I know you wanted what he had. Just tell me one thing. Do you really think you’re in love with me, or do you think you’ve got one over on your big brother for once?’

‘What do you mean?’ said Miles, slowly.

‘I mean,’ I said, ‘if you think you’re in love with me, then I’m afraid you’re about to get your heart broken just like you did with me and David. If you wanted to get one over on your brother, well, you’ve failed. Because you’ll never, ever be half the man he is.’

‘That’s got nothing to do with it.’

‘I’m giving you a taste of your own medicine, Miles,’ I said, trying not to shout at him, pull his hair, scratch the complacent smile off his face.

‘You’re overreacting,’ Miles said. I gaped. ‘Let’s—’

‘No, let’s not,’ said Tom suddenly. ‘Just go, Miles.’

‘Yes,’ said Jess, anxiously. I hadn’t even noticed she was there. ‘Honestly Miles. Go away. We don’t want you here, I’m sorry.’

‘OK, OK,’ said Miles, as if he hadn’t heard them. ‘Listen, chaps, I think I’ll go now. Lizzy, are you sure—’

‘God, Miles, you’re pathetic!’ Tom said. ‘You really are. Have some self-respect! Go away!’

I looked at Miles again, and he reminded me of the chubby twelve-year-old he’d been when we first knew him, not the devious, sad man he’d become. I felt sorry for him – and so glad that I didn’t have to be with him any more that, momentarily, it dulled the pain I was feeling about David, a pain that had faded over the last year but was fresh again, stabbing me in the side, like a kind of stitch.

‘Don’t hate me, Lizzy. I do really love you,’ he said. ‘It wasn’t just about David. It’s about you. I – I love you.’

‘Oh, Miles,’ I said. ‘No, you don’t. You’ll see.’

‘You’re wrong,’ Miles said. He inhaled deeply and drew himself up to his full height. I could tell he was trying to stay cool. ‘Well, ‘bye then.’

‘’Bye,’ I said shortly, as if we were delegates on a paper-clip conference. I thought of him going back to our room at the Oak Grange, sitting on the edge of the bed, watching the cricket highlights with his tie loosened and a beer in his hand. Would he be OK? Of course he would. Would he do something like this again? I didn’t know, and the deadening feeling I had inside swelled into something else.

‘Miles,’ I called, and ran to catch up with him. The wind had picked up: the trees were rustling and the door to the marquee was flapping, almost in time to the music.

Miles turned eagerly.

‘Do you hate him?’ I said.

‘No,’ he said, with a small sigh.

‘Well, I don’t get it,’ I said, as the anger I’d struggled to control rose again. ‘You must understand what you’ve done, Miles. He’s your brother.’

‘It’s families, Lizzy,’ Miles said, brushing something out of his eye with an impatient gesture. ‘It’s complicated. I don’t hate him, I love him. But sometimes he’s the person I’d most like to trample all over. I want to beat him. To be better than him. And he does too.’

‘No, he doesn’t,’ I said. ‘That’s just you.’

‘Forget it,’ Miles said, and walked away.

‘No,’ I said, catching up with him and grabbing his shoulder so he had to face me. ‘I can’t. You’ve done something terrible to me and I don’t think you understand.’

‘I really do,’ said Miles. ‘Trust me.’

‘You don’t,’ I said furiously. ‘You lied to me. I was missing David desperately. I thought he didn’t love me any more, and you lied to me. You looked me in the eyes and told me he’d slept with someone else. Then you rang him up and told him – what? The same thing? Something similar?’

Miles said nothing.

‘That bit doesn’t matter,’ I said, though it did: I wanted desperately to know. ‘It’s what you did that matters. You didn’t want your brother to be happy so you took it away. You wanted me for yourself so you broke my heart. That’s not love, Miles. That’s – that’s horrible.’

I put my hand on my collarbone to calm myself down.

‘David and me…You don’t understand it,’ Miles said suddenly. ‘He didn’t understand how I felt about you. He always thinks it’s just him. Who deserves everything.’

‘He didn’t
deserve
me,’ I said, my voice rising. ‘We were together, that’s all. I didn’t pick him over you. There wasn’t a competition!’

‘Yes, there was!’ Miles cried. ‘There fucking was. You don’t understand it, Lizzy. It’s not about you. We were friends
for ages and I’ve always wanted you, wanted to be with you. Ever since…years ago. I promised myself that when I grew up I’d do what I could to make you want me, and then—’

I tried to contain the fury and hatred that flared up inside me. His voice broke. He covered his mouth with a fist, then said, ‘And I get back from holiday and there’s David in the kitchen, telling Mum all about how he’d just met you, how he’d
had
you, how you were going out. Just like that. And Mum’s all pleased and grinning. Oh, well done, David, ooh, how exciting. Oh, hello, Miles, what are you doing there skulking around in the background?’ His eyes flashed in the evening gloom. ‘I hated him then, and I promised myself I wouldn’t let it get to me, but it did. And I won in the end, you could say.’ His smile was twisted. He touched my arm. ‘You wouldn’t understand.’

Then the dam broke, and I was in the grip of an uncontrollable rage. ‘Wouldn’t understand?’ I shouted, clutching my skirt as I staggered up the slope towards him. ‘You stupid. Fucking. Idiot.’ I was yelling, spitting almost, inches away from his face. ‘
Wouldn’t understand?
Do you have any idea how much I understand? I’m the one who’s been at the centre of
all
of this – this
crap
– for the last year. You selfish, selfish…I can’t even begin to tell you the damage you’ve done. It was none of your business, me and David. And you, with your sad little fantasies, your weird fucked-up way of seeing things, do you know how awful you made me feel? How can you say you loved me all that time you watched me crying over him? You knew how much I loved him, you knew how good we were – how can you say that what you did was from true love?’ My throat was aching. ‘You’ve ruined everything! I – I—’

I couldn’t breathe. I actually couldn’t breathe, and I stood back and gulped air in long, shuddering breaths that hurt
with the force of my anger. I remembered suddenly what it was like to be little, to have no command of yourself, to feel hysterical, out of control.

Miles’s white face swam in front of me, looking like Miles, looking like David, I couldn’t tell. I gritted my teeth to stop myself crying, and took another deep breath. Suddenly, all those things I’d been wanting to say for ages were tumbling out, and I couldn’t stop them. In the distance I could see people watching. I didn’t care. Now it wasn’t just Miles I was so angry with. ‘All this year, I’ve been trying to be so good, to be a good daughter, not to let the sale get us all down, worrying about Tom, wondering what’s up with Mike, and Rosalie, and – and Mum and Dad. All this year I’ve kept all these things to myself, that I kept wanting to stop remembering, and I couldn’t. And we’ve all been through so much, and do you understand, Miles, what it would have been like if I’d had David with me through all of that?’

‘Stop it, Lizzy,’ Miles said. He looked beaten.

I stood up straight, feeling as if I’d stretched my legs and arms after I’d been asleep for a long time. He backed away, as if breaking the thread between us. After all, he had nothing to lose by going.

‘I’m sorry, OK? One of these days I hope you’ll forgive me. But that’s enough now. I’m not listening to any more. I’ll – just, well, take care. Don’t – just stop worrying about everything. It’s over now. ‘Bye.’

My gaze followed his retreating figure. He seemed unfamiliar to me. In my mind I’d tried to make him into something he wasn’t, and I’d been wrong. I couldn’t think of a joke we’d both liked, or a film we’d loved together. He just adored me. He was safe. He wouldn’t ever hurt me. I had thought that was enough, but I’d got it wrong.

As a thousand thoughts like these crowded into my mind, a picture came into my head of me and David on my sofa,
watching
Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves
late on a wintry Saturday afternoon. I was pretending to be really into it and David was pretending to hate it and doing a brilliant Kevin Costner impression. Both of us were laughing like drains, so much so that I spilt my tea over him. I don’t think I’d laughed once like that with Miles.

Tears filled my eyes. That was what I’d lost and it was a stupid thing to remember but to me, at that very moment, it was heartbreaking.