Page 19 of You Were Always the One

‘You make it sound so easy,’ she says.

MAY

7

HOLLY

‘Something’s happened,’ I tell Rita. I’m sitting on the bath in our en suite, where I’m sure I can’t be overheard.

‘For goodness’ sake, tell me then,’ she says impatiently.

‘Riggs and his wife have split up.’

‘Fuck.’ Rita sounds startled. ‘Are you sure?’ Then, ‘How do you know? Have you seen him again?’

‘Riggs told me. I bumped into him again. It sounds like they’d grown apart.’ I pause. ‘I haven’t told you, have I? He’s a writer. I can’t believe it. He’s actually written books.’

‘Wow.’ She sounds impressed. ‘I’ll have to read them.’

‘Me, too,’ I say. Then, ‘Rita?’ I’m frightened to say it out loud. ‘I think I’m still in love with him.’

‘Of course you are.’ She sounds oddly calm about it. ‘I don’t think you ever fell out of love. Does he feel the same?’

‘I think so,’ I say cautiously. ‘You know I’m only telling you because you’re my best friend? It can never go any further. It isn’t going to be anything.’

‘Oh, Holly.’ Rita’s silent. ‘You can’t say that. You’ve no idea what’s around the corner. For example’ – she pauses – ‘what if you’re right about Miles? Talking of which, have you spoken to him?’

‘I haven’t had the chance,’ I say. ‘Apart from when we go to bed, I never seem to catch him when we’re alone.’

‘What about evenings?’ she says. ‘Do you think that maybe you’re avoiding this?’

‘Probably,’ I say miserably.

‘In that case, imagine you’re one of your clients,’ she says. ‘What sage advice would you give yourself?’

I think of Dora; say the first thing that comes into my head. ‘To follow your heart – and not have regrets.’

‘There you go,’ Rita says. ‘Sounds good to me.’

‘It doesn’t help,’ I say quietly. ‘My heart is as confused as my head. And whichever way I turn, I’ll have regrets.’

‘In that case, do nothing,’ she says wisely. ‘Actually, better still, talk to Miles. That’s your best next step. He may say something that makes you look at everything differently.’

Somehow I doubt it. But it still has to be done. ‘Thanks, Rita. You’re the best.’

‘Any time, Holls. Give the kids a hug from me,’ she says.

Going downstairs, I start to cook supper, now and then helping Grace with her homework. For once, Miles is home early. Coming in, he kisses me on the cheek. Unpassionately – the way he’d kiss his mother. Then he peers into the saucepan. ‘Smells good,’ he says.

‘It’s just a risotto. How was your day?’ I ask.

‘Fine. Same old.’ He takes off his jacket. ‘While I think of it, I’m staying in town tomorrow night.’

‘Oh.’ I stare at him, completely flummoxed. ‘Is something going on?’

‘Just a late meeting,’ he says evasively. ‘I’m going to change.’

I want to believe it’s just a business meeting. But a voice in my head is whispering to me. A late meeting with who? When he comes downstairs, I push him for more.