I nodded. I did. ‘Thank you Greg. This is lovely.’
‘So, shall we start with the crackers or do you want me to pour a glass of this first?’
‘Let’s drink first. Might warm us up a bit.’
I dutifully popped open the cheap fizzy wine, poured us both a tumbler full and handed one to Greg. He held his in the air. ‘A toast?’
‘To what?’
He shrugged. ‘To us? To the future? To – finding the old us again?’
I studied him, this face I knew so well. How I wished we could travel back and find that comfortable love we’d shared back then, that easy, blameless friendship without any of the complications of marriage. I held my tumbler up and clinked it against his. ‘To us.’
We sat sipping our wine and it occurred to me I should tell Greg about the tapes I’d found at Dad’s. It felt wrong to be keeping secrets from him. So I told him all about the mixtape with the secret note from J, and that Mum had admitted he was a man called Johnny, who she’d loved a long time ago. I omitted details about the old tape Adam had made me, or any of the things Mum had said about Adam being the love of my life, of course.
‘She’s a dark horse your mum, isn’t she?’ he said when I’d finished.
‘That’s exactly what Sam said. I can’t believe she’s never mentioned this Johnny in all these years.’
He rubbed his hands together and blew into them. ‘Well I guess she just didn’t think about him much once she met your dad.’
His eyes bored into me and I shuffled uncomfortably on the hard wooden bench as he searched my face. Was he making a point?
‘I guess not.’
Greg leaned forward. ‘Does it really bother you, that your mum has secrets?’
I shrugged. ‘It did. But you’re right; I suppose it’s just that it didn’t matter, once she met Dad.’ There was a time I could have discussed it with him for hours, pulled the story to pieces, analysed it from every angle to try and work out why it was making me feel so shaken, as though everything I’d always known had been thrown into doubt. But because there was so much Icouldn’ttell him, it seemed safer to steer away from it completely.
I took another sip of my wine and leaned back, resting my elbows on the edges of the boat and tipping my head back, letting the iron sky fill my vision, eyes focused on the tiny patch of blue where the sun threatened to trickle through. Come on sunshine, I silently begged. Bring some hope.
Out of nowhere, a drumbeat started and I snapped my eyes open and looked at Greg. He was smiling at me, and as the familiar sliding guitar of ‘I Miss You’ by Blink-182 started I smiled back.
‘Where did you get that from?’ I said, indicating the tiny speaker propped up on the bench between us.
‘I brought it with me.’ He paused. ‘Do you remember this?’
‘Course I do.’ I drummed my fingers on my knees. ‘God I haven’t heard this song for years. We listened to it so many times I’m surprised the CD didn’t disintegrate.’
Greg laughed, and we sat for a few more minutes, lost in our thoughts. What better choice of song when things are going wrong in the present, than one that rewinds the years and takes you back to happier, more simple times? It was a clever tactic – and it was working.
I felt the connection between us, the one that had been shaken loose over the last few months until it was barely attached at all, gradually start to strengthen. These times, these moments, were perfect. They were essential and restorative. We needed more of them.
The song came to an end and I expected another one to start. But when nothing happened I looked at Greg to find him watching me, his eyes serious.
‘You okay?’
He nodded. ‘Yes.’ He looked up at the sky too, and I waited for him to say something more. He coughed. ‘Actually I wanted to ask you something.’
‘Okay.’ I felt my shoulders hunch with fear. Had he found out I’d been spending time with Adam before I’d had a chance to tell him myself? I could have kicked myself. How it must have hurt him. But when he spoke, I realised I’d got it completely wrong.
‘I know—’ He stopped, gathered himself. ‘I know things have been tricky between us lately. And I know it’s mostly my fault.’ He looked down at where his hands were clasped in front of him, a plastic tumbler dangling from one as though he didn’t have the strength it hold it any more. ‘But I can’t give up on us, Erin.’ He looked at me, and there was a determination in his face I hadn’t seen for a long time. ‘I know I’ve let you down, but I want to make it up to you.’
‘You are Greg. You’re getting help for your gambling, aren’t you? It’s working, isn’t it?’
He nodded. ‘Yes, it is. But there’s something else.’
I waited.
