Milly would be moving out on Saturday morning, giving her just enough time to work out if she had forgotten anything before Helen set off on the first leg of her holiday two days later. This meant they should have been spending Friday evening double-checking what Milly had packed, but it was their last night together before everything changed so, unsurprisingly, they found themselves snuggled up in front of the TV.
The American sitcom they were watching was one of a long stream of programmes that Milly would watch nonstop if she had her way, which wasn’t very often, but tonight Helen raised no objection. Her mind was elsewhere, and as she kissed the top of her daughter’s head she breathed in the scent of her and wondered if she would be able to recall that distinctive Milly smell when she wasn’t there. She hoped so, but she wished she didn’t have to.
‘What was that for?’ Milly asked. She had kept her eyes on the TV while upturning her face towards her mum.
‘Because—’ Helen had to stop, caught out by emotions that had quickly risen to the surface and had to be swallowed back. ‘Because I’m going to miss you.’
Still not looking at her mum, Milly dropped her head onto Helen’s shoulder and pushed against her body. ‘I’m going to miss you too.’
After the embarrassment had passed, Helen expected her daughter to relax back into a comfortable silence. It was only when she gave Milly a gentle squeeze that she realized her daughter was holding her body so taut it was making her tremble. ‘Are you OK?’ she asked.
Milly’s body shook that little bit more in what was a poor attempt at a nod. Despite the roiling emotions, Helen was tempted to remind her daughter that this was all her doing. It had been her decision and her decision alone to go so there was no point moaning about it now. She had not only wanted to live with her dad, she had demanded it.
Their argument over the laundry felt like a lifetime ago and they had both come a long way since then. Helen had learned the hard way that her daughter had her own needs, her own opinions and her own way of doing things. As Milly’s mother, Helen was meant to guide her towards independence, not control her every move and then complain when she rebelled, but she wasn’t the only one who had learned a thing or two. Milly had been forced to realize that her mother wasn’t perfect, that she had been making it up as she went along and sometimes she had got it wrong.
‘It’s going to take a while for us all to adapt,’ Helen offered. ‘Even though you’ve stayed with your dad and Eva often enough, it’s going to be different – for all of us.’
‘Eva’s said she won’t be trying to take your place.’
The thought hadn’t even occurred to Helen and it pained her to imagine it now. When she gave Milly another hug, she squeezed shut her eyes. ‘I’m glad to hear it. If I was going to be made completely redundant, I might as well stay in New York.’
This time when Milly lifted her head towards her mum, she did look at her. Tears were welling in her eyes. ‘You will come home, won’t you?’
‘Of course I will. I couldn’t live without you, Milly, and I’ll be counting down the days until you get to stay with me.’
Milly’s lips cut a sharp line across her face, albeit a sharp line that quivered. She continued to shake and when she did speak, her words came out in a trembling rush. ‘And I can’t live without you! I don’t want to go, Mum, I want to stay here! I know Dad’s spent loads of money doing up my room, but I don’t want to live there.’
Her last words were choked, and as Milly began to sob Helen rocked her fiercely. Her first reaction was to imagine John and Eva standing in front of her so she could put two fingers up at them. There you go, she would tell them. You think you have your perfect little family but you’re not stealing my daughter! Her second, more considered response was to accept that this might just be last-minute nerves. Whether she wanted to or not, Milly would be spending the next week and a half with her dad which gave her plenty of time to renege on any rash promises she might make tonight.
‘The choice is still yours to make, Milly, and me and your dad will do our best to make it work, whichever one of us you choose to live with. But when you do choose, there are certain practical arrangements we have to make, so when you make your final decision, you’re going to have to stick with it,’ Helen said. She was surprised how sensible she sounded and wondered if Chris’s influence was coming into play. This might not be a financial decision but Milly’s choice would have financial implications and both she and John needed some certainty. ‘Go to your dad’s and see how it goes while I’m away. I’ll let him know you’re having second thoughts and we can all sit down and talk it through when I get back.’
‘I won’t change my mind again,’ Milly promised. ‘I keep thinking about what Phoebe said about her mum. You might drive me crazy but I’m so lucky to have you as my mum and I’d die if anything happened to you. I wanted to tell you ages ago that I’d changed my mind, but Dad was decorating my bedroom and I was scared it was too late. I want to live with you, Mum. I’m already sure and I’m sorry for making you sad.’
Pulling away, Helen waited until her daughter had wiped her eyes and was sitting up rather than cowering in a crumpled mess. ‘Look at this face, Milly,’ she said. ‘Does this look like a sad face to you?’
Milly took her time scrutinizing her mum’s features. Her nose wrinkled as she smiled. ‘No, it looks like a happy face. A bit funny looking,’ she added for fear of sounding too soppy, ‘but not sad.’
Helen couldn’t stop grinning and even after Milly had gone to bed and she had phoned John to warn him about their daughter’s change of heart, she kept her smile. John must have heard it in her voice and while he was none too pleased, he couldn’t and wouldn’t go against his daughter’s wishes. They both knew Milly too well to think they could force her into doing something she didn’t want to without suffering the consequences.
It was only when she dialled Phoebe’s number that the feeling warming her insides began to cool.
‘How’s the packing going?’ she asked.
‘Oh, you know,’ Phoebe said with a sigh. ‘I’ve packed and repacked everything three times and now I can’t remember what I took out and what I kept in so I’ll end up doing it all again tomorrow. How about you?’
‘I think I’m almost there, and with Milly going off to her dad’s tomorrow, I’ll have more time to concentrate,’ she said. She chose not to tell Phoebe about the latest development. She wasn’t even sure she would say anything until after they were all back from holiday and she was certain that Milly was going to be true to her word this time. In reality, she knew there was no way she would be able to contain her excitement for that long, but it was an idea she would keep alive that bit longer. Besides, there were other things she needed to discuss with her friend. ‘Speaking of being alone, how are things with you? You’ve been a bit hard to pin down lately. Have you been throwing wild parties and forgetting to invite your two best friends?’
‘Not unless you count the teatime rush at Nan’s new digs. Some of those residents would stab you with a fork if you tried to pinch the last piece of Battenberg.’
Helen gave a half-hearted laugh as she racked her brain to think of a way to broach the subject of Julia and Paul. ‘At least you don’t have those battles at home any more. But it must be weird living in a big, empty house,’ she said.
‘It won’t be forever. I’ve convinced Nan that we should sell the house sooner rather than later, so I’ll be looking for somewhere smaller and more practical in the New Year. It will be a completely fresh start for me, Helen.’
‘But while you are there,’ Helen persisted, ‘you could always have a dinner party to fill the house.’
‘A dinner party? Since when did you get all grown up? Does this have something to do with what’s-his-name, Chris?’
‘Maybe, but assuming you’d be inviting Julia and Paul too, that leaves us a bit unbalanced. We’d have to find a date for you to even up the numbers.’
‘Hmm, I think I’d prefer being the wallflower, thank you very much.’
‘Wouldn’t it be awkward though?’
‘No.’
Helen could forgive Phoebe for sounding a little defensive and a lot confused. Her attempt to shoehorn Paul into the conversation was at best crude and Helen grimaced when she said, ‘I just meant about Paul being there. It can’t be easy switching off your emotions, so don’t pretend you have.’
‘Helen, why are we even discussing an imaginary dinner party when there are more pressing needs like going on holiday?’
‘Sorry,’ Helen said. She bit her lip, disappointed that her first line of questioning had reached a dead end but she wasn’t giving up. ‘To be honest, I’m not sure it would be such a good idea inviting Julia and Paul out anywhere at the moment.’
‘Why? What’s happened?’
‘She was telling me over lunch today how worried she is. I’m sure she’ll tell you herself while we’re away, but …’
‘But?’
Helen was trying to sound as if she were letting Phoebe into a secret. It was, after all, what she desperately wanted to believe, but as she spoke, Helen’s ears strained for any clue to Phoebe’s reaction. ‘She thinks he’s having an affair.’
There was total silence at the other end of the line, not even the sound of breathing. Phoebe was holding her breath and when she released it, her words tumbled out. ‘That’s ridiculous!’
‘That’s what I said.’ Pressing her phone hard against her ear, Helen wished she could see Phoebe’s face. She could hear the odd click and tap and imagined her friend playing nervously with whatever was to hand.
‘Is there something particular that’s made her suspect him?’
Helen could feel her heart sinking, taking her good mood along with it. Phoebe wasn’t asking about Julia’s state of mind or the state of her marriage – she was far more eager to hear how Paul had slipped up. ‘She thinks he’s been going somewhere else rather than to the gym.’
‘But that doesn’t mean he’s having an affair, it just means he’s been skipping a session or two. How many people exaggerate their workouts?’
Helen thought long and hard about how to pursue the matter. Did she want to go on holiday with someone she suspected was not only lying to her but, worse still, betraying their friend in the worst possible way? No, she might be wrong: surely Phoebe wasn’t capable of such a thing even if she had admitted to still having feelings for Paul? But even as the debate raged inside her head, Helen was already talking. ‘Where did he go, Phoebe?’
‘What?’ There was a loud clatter suggesting that whatever knick-knack Phoebe had been playing with had fallen over. ‘Helen, I hope you’re not suggesting—’
‘Please, Phoebe, tell me I’m wrong. I’m sorry but I really need to hear you say that you wouldn’t do that to Julia, that you wouldn’t jeopardize a lifelong friendship. Make that two lifelong friendships.’
‘Nothing’s going on, Helen!’ Phoebe said.
‘Really?’
Phoebe’s tone hardened when she said, ‘Yes, really.’
Helen waited for the rush of relief but it didn’t come.
‘What else do you want me to say?’ Phoebe demanded. ‘I swear on my life that I’m no more capable of betraying our friendship than you are. There, is that good enough?’
It wasn’t good enough, but Helen couldn’t tell Phoebe that the oath was technically worthless because she herself was already guilty of the charge. She had betrayed Phoebe once and the past was catching up with them at a frightening rate. She felt herself bracing for impact.
There was a brief moment when Phoebe had felt rather smug with the answers she had given her friend, but her clever words couldn’t ease her conscience. She had lied to Helen, but that wasn’t the worst of her sins.
Paul had arrived unannounced on her doorstep the night before, demanding that she tell him everything. Judging by the way he kept his coat on, he had no intention of sitting down and chatting about old times. There was only one thing he needed to know.
‘What you said the other day, Phoebe …’
She heard the doubt in his voice and reacted to it. ‘Was it true? Do you really think I’d make something like that up?’
Paul had no follow-up question prepared and Phoebe was in no mood to offer any more information willingly. She turned her back on him and went into the kitchen to fill the kettle and make drinks that neither of them would want but it was better than looking at Paul’s tormented expression.
Phoebe had never intended telling Paul about the baby, it was a secret she had thought she would take to the grave. It was only when Paul’s infertility had been brought into question that it had begun to play on Phoebe’s mind and she had racked her brain to find a way of telling him without telling him – to reassure him that the results would prove what she already knew, that he was capable of fathering a child. But the results had shown something else and the need to tell him had grown stronger and yet still she had resisted, right up to the moment she had stood at the side of the road and saw that look of horror on his face after they had kissed. She had forgotten all about wanting to help Paul, she had only wanted to hurt him deeply, and judging by the look on his face as he stood in the kitchen staring at the tiled floor, that was exactly what she had done.
‘If I’d known …’ he started, daring to look up briefly, before letting another sentence wither and die. ‘Did you tell anyone?’
‘I told Nan, and then the decision was taken out of my hands. There was no question about what had to be done. She had gone through the same thing with Mum, only Mum had got her way and kept the baby. Nan didn’t need to remind me how badly that had turned out.’
‘But was it what you wanted?’
‘Why do you need to know that?’ she asked while trying to make sense of not only her feelings but his too. ‘What do you want from me, Paul? Do you want me to tell you I would have gone through with an abortion with or without you? That you’re completely absolved? Is that what you want hear?’
He shook his head and, still looking at the damned floor, said, ‘I don’t know, Phoebe. I’ve spent the last few days torturing myself, wondering how different things could have been for all of us.’
‘I was eighteen years old and I didn’t know what I wanted,’ she said, which wasn’t exactly true. After years of neglect, Phoebe had wanted to be loved – it was as simple as that. She had wanted a little family just like Helen’s, except she wasn’t at all like Helen. Her friend might have complained about her imperfect life but she had had the kind of stability and security that Phoebe could only dream of. ‘I was in no fit state to bring up a child, Paul. I was the one that needed looking after.’
‘But it didn’t have to be your nan looking after you, Phoebe. I don’t know how I would have reacted if I’m honest, but I would have at least been able to give you another option.’
Releasing a sigh, Phoebe turned her back on the man who claimed he would have saved her but wasn’t even brave enough to look her in the eye. She debated whether to take one cup or two from the cupboard. The discussion was going nowhere and she wanted him to leave. ‘You’d already made your choice, Paul. Why pretend it would have been any different?’
‘I don’t remember it being my choice, Phoebe. You sent your henchwoman to tell me to keep away, remember? What else was I supposed to do?’
With a clatter of china, Phoebe turned to face him again. ‘My nan went to see you?’
‘No, I mean Helen,’ Paul said, sharing her look of confusion.
‘But I sent Helen to tell you— What exactly did she say, Paul?’
He laughed. ‘You expect me to remember a conversation I had over ten years ago?’
‘Try.’
He scratched his head. ‘She said how you had been going through a tough time and that you weren’t interested in anything long term and we should cut our losses. I got the impression that it was your nan you needed more than some bloke you barely knew – and it wasn’t as if we were in a proper relationship. It was a few nights out, Phoebe, and it made sense to stop before things got too serious. At least it did at the time …’
‘It’s all right, Paul, you don’t have to explain, but I think someone else might,’ she said. ‘That wasn’t what I asked Helen to tell you at all. She was supposed to explain how I wanted to carry on seeing you; only it would have to be in secret. I was giving you the choice.’
‘So why did Helen lie?’
Phoebe racked her brain to find an answer. ‘I suppose she didn’t want me to make the same mistake she had,’ Phoebe said, her mind refusing to comprehend the full extent of Helen’s betrayal. She gave a sad laugh, then added, ‘She didn’t know I already had.’
‘But it wasn’t a mistake, Phoebe. It was a new life! We could have – I could have …’ As he spoke, Paul moved from left to right as if he couldn’t decide which way to turn. ‘So it was all down to Helen. She’s the one who ended our relationship before it had even begun, ended our child’s life before it had even begun.’
The kettle had begun to boil but it was Phoebe’s emotions that were bubbling over. Her friends meant everything to her and she hadn’t wanted to lose them, but how was she ever to face Helen again now that she knew the truth? Should she confront her? Would she tell Helen about the pregnancy? Would she tell Julia? Exposing the secrets of the present and the past would leave their friendship in tatters.
‘But I was the one who had the abortion, Paul,’ she said. ‘I can’t blame anyone else for that.’
When the boiling kettle switched itself off, it gave Phoebe a start and she had to lean back against the kitchen counter to keep herself from sinking to the floor. How different might her life have been if Helen hadn’t interfered? With Paul’s support instead of her nan’s suppression, she could have been anything she wanted to be. She could have been a woman with substance, not someone who people simply looked though.
Except Paul wasn’t looking through her now. He held her gaze as he approached, each tentative step a considered one.
‘Do you hate me?’ she asked.
Paul didn’t answer until he was close enough to trail a thumb across her cheek, wiping her tears. ‘Not even close, Phoebe.’
As he cupped her face in his hands, Phoebe tried to summon up images of her two best friends. She pictured Julia and Helen, not as grown women with all the hang-ups they had acquired, but young girls sitting on Helen’s sofa watching Disney movies. It had been a long time since Phoebe had imagined herself a beautiful princess but that was how she felt under Paul’s gaze.
‘This is killing me,’ he said. ‘I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what might have been if only we’d been given the chance.’
Phoebe squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself to disappear again, while fighting a much stronger desire to follow Paul’s lead and summon up an alternate life where it wouldn’t be wrong to let him do what he did next. When she felt his lips on hers she let out a soft moan and pulled away. ‘It’s too late,’ she said.
‘I know.’
With her eyes still closed, she sought out his mouth and kissed him briefly before adding, ‘We can’t go back, Paul. You love Julia, and I love her too. We can’t do this.’
Resting his forehead on hers, Paul traced his hands down her body before resting them on her hips. ‘I know,’ he said without any attempt to step away. ‘But we had something I may never get to share with anyone else, no matter how much I love them. I don’t know how to deal with that, Phoebe. I don’t know how to stop this ache inside me.’
‘We can’t …’
‘Not even once?’ he asked. ‘I can’t walk away, not this time. Not yet.’
When Paul pressed his body against hers, Phoebe offered no resistance and, as he kissed her, she let out a groan that was part pleasure and part frustration. She was done for.
Her body had been on fire and as they made love Phoebe had imagined herself a phoenix rising from the flames, but it was a fire that had burnt out all too quickly. By the time she had spoken to Helen, it was only the guilt that endured and she didn’t know how she was going to face her friends.
It was Sunday, 14 February and the three friends had distinctly different starts to their Valentine’s Day. Helen woke to find her bed a tangle of sheets and limbs. Chris was lying next to her fast asleep, having sneaked out of bed at some point during the early hours to place a card and a red rose on the bedside table next to her. She picked up the flower and trailed its baby-soft petals across his face, neck and chest. When he didn’t wake up she considered hitting him with it but then a smile crept across his face and she giggled like a schoolgirl.
Julia woke with a start when she heard the front door closing and she opened her eyes to find a large pink envelope on the pillow in the place of her husband. Raising herself on her elbow she scanned the bedroom and noticed Paul’s running shoes were missing. She checked the clock and hated herself for noting the time, knowing she wouldn’t be able to rest until Paul returned, and maybe not even then despite telling herself that he didn’t deserve her suspicion.
Phoebe wasn’t at all surprised to open her eyes and find her bed as empty as her life. She had spent the last few days struggling to come to terms with what she had done and imagined Paul was doing the same. He had made no attempt to get in touch since leaving her sitting on the kitchen floor, both stunned by and ashamed of what had just happened, and she hadn’t expected him to rush back for a repeat performance. They had agreed to forget it had ever happened, little knowing Paul had already aroused suspicion.
She needed to warn him and had tried to phone a number of times the day before, but because it was the weekend, she couldn’t risk calling him on his mobile. She had phoned the house on the pretext of wanting to speak to Julia about holiday plans, and it had been Julia who answered each and every time.
Standing in the kitchen in a nightshirt, Phoebe made another attempt to speak to Paul, and yet again he evaded her.
‘Hi, Phoebe,’ Julia said brightly. ‘That’s good timing – I was about to phone you. I’ve just been checking with Helen and I knew we shouldn’t have relied on her, especially now she’s all loved up.’
Phoebe was tempted to make some comment about Helen having a history of being untrustworthy, but she was hardly in a position to criticize, and besides, Julia wasn’t talking about the kind of fundamental character flaws that could destroy friendships and marriages. ‘Don’t tell me,’ she said, ‘she still hasn’t managed to buy everything she was supposed to.’
They had decided to share the long shopping list of all their holiday essentials so they could spread the load and, as always, Helen had left hers until the last minute.
‘How did you guess?’ Julia said. ‘Apparently she spent all of yesterday with Chris and he’s still there now!’
‘I’m going out to visit Nan this afternoon, so I suppose I could always do a detour to the shops.’
‘No, I can do it. Paul’s going to drop me off at the retail park for a couple of hours. I did try to persuade him to come with me but he says he’d rather stick pins in his eyes than listen to me twitter on about shampoos and conditioners. I don’t think he should get off scot-free though, so I was thinking he could nip to yours and give you one last driving lesson.’
‘Oh,’ Phoebe said. She needed to speak to Paul but a repeat visit to the house was an entirely different proposition and one she wasn’t sure she could deal with. ‘I’m not sure I’ve got time.’
‘Please, you’d be doing me a favour. Someone needs to keep tabs on him.’
‘Have you actually asked him? He might have better things to do.’
‘He’ll have more free time than he’ll know what to do with while I’m away,’ Julia said. ‘Honestly, Phoebe, he won’t mind.’
Judging by the tone of Julia’s voice, her mind was set. ‘I suppose,’ Phoebe said. She was running her fingers through her hair, which felt lank and dull. ‘When were you thinking?’
‘We’ll be leaving in ten minutes so I’d say he’ll be at yours within the hour. And if he isn’t, I’ll want to know why.’
Julia had yet to voice her concerns to Phoebe, but even if Helen hadn’t told her, the playful comment couldn’t disguise the fact that her friend’s trust in her husband had been dented.
‘So what did you want anyway?’ Julia was asking.
‘Sorry?’
Julia laughed. ‘You phoned me, remember?’
‘Oh, erm, nothing really,’ Phoebe said, trying to remember the spurious excuse she had prepared. ‘It was only to see if you wanted me to pick up any last bits and pieces but it looks like you’ve got that covered.’
Phoebe was on the move even as she ended the call and she was still blow-drying her hair when she saw Paul’s car pulling up outside. Whatever the future held for them both, she had decided that she wouldn’t spend the next decade being as invisible as she had in the previous. She still felt that need for Paul to look at her, really look at her, and to want her, if not as much as Julia, then just a little. The torture of what might have been was no longer hers alone.
‘Do you want to go out?’ Paul asked with a sheepish look on his face as he stood on the doorstep. He hadn’t even ventured inside the porch. ‘I have over an hour to kill.’
The idea of a driving lesson took Phoebe by surprise. She had completely forgotten that was why he was coming over and looked down at the high heels she had just slipped on. They were patent leather and went perfectly with the turquoise bodycon dress she was wearing, the one she had bought with the intention of strutting around Manhattan. ‘I’d have to change into my boots first.’
Paul bit his lip as his gaze lingered over her curves before he could stop himself. ‘It wasn’t my idea to come over.’
She smiled at him. ‘I know. Come in.’
Without asking, Phoebe led Paul through to the kitchen where, in a repeat of their last meeting, she switched on the kettle. There was an outside chance they might actually have a drink this time.
‘Julia knows something’s going on,’ Paul said. ‘I swear the guilt must be written all over my face because in the last couple of days she hasn’t been able to look at me. I want to ask her what’s wrong but at the same time I’m scared she might just tell me.’
‘I can tell you,’ Phoebe said as she carried on making the drinks as if this were a normal conversation. ‘Julia’s told Helen she doesn’t think you were at the gym on Thursday. Apparently she’s taken to sniffing your clothes.’
‘Shit! I really would be rubbish at having an affair.’
‘Then it’s lucky that you’re not having one.’
Continuing to avoid making eye contact, Phoebe looked inside the fridge, which was almost bare, and took her time finding the milk.
‘I can’t believe what we’ve done,’ Paul said. ‘I hate myself. You have no idea how much.’
She turned back and said, ‘Oh, I think I do.’
‘It can’t happen again, Phoebe.’
‘Would you want it to?’ she asked, more out of curiosity than anything else.
Releasing a sigh, Paul looked around the kitchen as if the evidence of his infidelity were on display. When his eyes settled back on Phoebe they managed to hold each other’s gaze, but unlike Thursday evening there was no connection to be made with the past or the present, and certainly no more unfinished business.
‘You’re a beautiful woman, Phoebe, and I care about you, but I love Julia. You really do deserve better – and so does Julia. God knows what I’m going to do if she does find out. I suppose it’s something that she doesn’t suspect you’re involved.’
‘But someone does.’
Paul’s eyes widened in fear. ‘Helen? Have you told her?’
‘While I would like nothing better than to confront Helen about what she did to us, at the moment I don’t feel like I have the right to take the moral high ground.’
‘Then how does she know?’
Phoebe turned her attention back to making the drinks, giving herself a moment to think. She didn’t want to tell him that she had made a drunken confession about being in love with him. For one thing, she wasn’t sure that was how she felt any more. Where once she had felt sick with love, now she felt sick with self-loathing. ‘She just knew we were getting closer than we should, that’s all,’ she said.
‘You can’t tell her, Phoebe! We can’t tell anyone,’ Paul said. ‘I don’t know what I thought I was doing, and I’m not saying I don’t have regrets about what happened all those years ago, but …’
Phoebe picked up two mugs and offered one to Paul while he continued to grapple with his words.
‘Shall we go somewhere else?’ she asked, and when she saw the look of horror on his face she found herself smiling. ‘I meant to the living room. I wasn’t about to seduce you again.’
Paul took his drink and didn’t speak until they were both sitting down. ‘You didn’t seduce me, Phoebe. If anything, I was the one who made the first move.’
Shaking her head, Phoebe said, ‘We both have to take responsibility for our actions. It happened and there’s nothing we can do about it. It was a moment of madness, a really bad one, but it’s over now.’
Paul thought for a moment and then said, ‘I know we’re going to have to lie to other people, but can we at least be honest with ourselves? As moments of madness go, it was a pretty long and drawn out one. I’m not suggesting it goes right back through my entire marriage to Julia, but maybe since I started giving you driving lessons.’
‘We’d forgotten how easily we could talk to each other,’ Phoebe agreed. ‘And you reminded me I once had a spark. You made me want to get it back.’
Paul made sure he was looking at his feet when he said, ‘And you are getting it back. I just hope I haven’t done something to set you back. If I could split myself in two—’
‘Don’t,’ she interrupted, not because she didn’t want to hear it but because, finally, she didn’t have to. She had felt hollow and wretched for days, and her guilt had been the perfect antidote to her childish infatuation – or at least that was what she had to believe if she were going to move on from this. ‘I will get that spark back, Paul, but it’ll be through my own accomplishments, and not just a reflection in someone else’s eyes.’
Paul finally lifted his head and looked at her.
‘There is no us,’ she continued, ‘and if things had been allowed to run their course then we would have worked it out long before now. Let’s leave it at that, shall we? Agreed?’
‘Agreed.’