‘What’s McClure afraid of?’ I ask.
‘His past catching up with him, the woman he loves being harmed,’ Finan says.
‘Getting hurt, being vulnerable,’ Bella counters.
‘The truth is rarely pure and never simple,’ says Mrs C.’s daughter, and everyone is amazed she’s stopped drinking her wine and whispering about her home life with Monica. ‘What?’ she protests, laughing at all of us. ‘Oscar Wilde said that.’
Everyonewoosat her and we break into laughter and the discussion moves on from the need for romance even in the grittiest of real-life scenarios, and the virtues of breaking a loved one’s heart to protect everyone involved and to keep dangerous secrets.
Now they’re chatting about the novel’s red herrings and the lost murder weapon but I’m letting my eyes glaze a bit and looking at my glass, thinking about Elliot.
The last words he said to me earlier seem to ring in my ears all the more loudly in the din of the busy pub, and I lower my head in case I cry right here surrounded by these people, some of whom are beginning to feel like friends.I will never not be thinking about you, he said.
‘Same,’ I tell the bottom of my beer glass before I reach for a sandwich, and try to focus on book club.
At the end, once the discussion has descended into slightly drunken chatter and the book has been long since forgotten, just as Finan said it would, and Izaak has gone home, Daniel gives me a hug, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Mrs C. who is getting ready to leave but having trouble with her cardigan sleeves after half a glass of beer.
‘I see you,’ he says to me.
‘What?’ I’m nicely tipsy and full of bread and ready to sleep after a relaxed and (almost) enjoyable evening.
‘Looking glum, missing Elliot.’
‘I’m not missing him, I’m fine. Better to be disappointed now than to go back to Marygreen thinking he’s…’ I recall Mrs C.’s words earlier, and wince. ‘Head over heels for me. This way I can go home and launch myself into my new life unhindered and with no distractions. You know? To the amazing career I’ll suddenly stumble upon with all my wisdom and life experience to help me.’ I give a wry and slightly boozy laugh at this, but Daniel’s frowning.
‘You have a lot more going for you than you know. First of all, you know about commitment and patience and loyalty, all those years looking after your gran.’
‘Hmph,’ I grump.
‘And you have your degree, and your special award! Don’t forget about that. It means you did better than all the rest. Employers will be lining up to interview you, Jude, you’ll see.’
I’m not at all convinced and I can’t hide it.
‘At least, give yourself a chance, OK? Don’t write off your future just yet. You’ll find the thing you want to do and the place you want to be. These things just take time. OK?’ He jostles his arm around my shoulder until I agree. ‘And maybe you should give Elliot a chance while you’re at it.’
‘You’re kidding!’ I say gathering up my belongings, ready to climb the stairs to Daniel’s room, hoping he packed his cucumber facemasks and some chocolate bars.
‘You’re the one that told me to call Ekon. What if I hadn’t?Hmm?Things might have rumbled on at work like they have for weeks before the whole thing petered out and I’d be none the wiser that he liked me.’
I give Daniel a level look. ‘It’s not the same situation at all.’
‘Just talk to him again, OK? Try to get his side of the story?’
‘Oh… OK then,’ I sigh, really exhausted now.
‘Besides, if I hadn’t given Ekon a chance, would I be getting messages like this?’ Daniel proudly holds up his phone and there on the screen is a gorgeous stranger, his nurse’s scrubs hanging on the door handle behind him, posing topless in his bathroom mirror and pulling a sort ofcome get meface.
‘Jesus, Daniel!’
‘Oh, sorry. I meant this one.’ He flicks to the next image, biting his lip with embarrassment, not to mention salacious pride, and there is Ekon again, on a sofa, his grey hoodie covering his sexily shaved head, smiling shyly at the camera and holding up a crossed finger and thumb in a heart shape, looking every inch like the cute, attentive boyfriend Daniel deserves.
I’m glad for Daniel but have to admit there’s an ache in my chest at the thought of the cosy, domestic moments Elliot and I shared this week and how I wish I could get back there, in the little bubble that was us.
‘Come on, let’s get some sleep. You can try again tomorrow,’ Daniel says guiding me away. As we’re saying goodnight to the stragglers from Sleuthing Club, the pub door opens.
‘You missed it,’ Finan calls out to a harried-looking Jowan, who’s standing inside the doorframe with Aldous coming to a stop on his lead. The dog’s little tail, normally a sad curl between his legs, is now kinked like a horizontal question mark behind him, and he’s looking every bit like a regular pet pooch, apart from the untidy tramlines and gouges from Anjali’s inexpert grooming.
Jowan doesn’t say anything but strides over the room towards me. I tipsily offer Aldous a scratch behind the ears which he moodily accepts with anif you really mustair, but Jowan wants me to stand up straight and listen.
