Angela let out a short, sharp laugh. ‘Split up? That makes it sound amicable, my dear. He left her. Upped and left without so much as a backwards glance. Poor girl was devastated, as you’d expect. It was completely out of the blue.’
Fin felt waves of anger rise up from deep inside him.
‘We all thought he was a nice guy. Perhaps a little boring, but still, nice,’ Angela continued, oblivious to the shift in Fin’s mood. ‘Did you ever meet him? It would be interesting to get your thoughts on him. You know, the male perspective and all that.’
‘Erm.’ He hurriedly grabbed a handful of crisps and shoved them into his mouth. ‘I don’t think I did. I don’t really remember, to be honest.’
‘True, I suppose it was an awfully long time ago now,’ she lamented. ‘Although, sometimes I think if Eleanor had keptfriends like you around, maybe this whole sorry mess could have been avoided.’
Before Fin had time to try and formulate a response, the doorbell rang.
‘Aha! Here they are.’ Angela leapt up from her seat. ‘Go make yourself another tea, sweetheart, and I’ll let the girls in,’ she instructed, before disappearing out of the room in a whirl of beaded silk, leaving Fin to stare into the dregs of his tea.
You could have done something.
You knew he was wrong for her.
Fin stood abruptly, hoping the haunting words would fall from his head and out on to the floor beneath him. He couldn’t go back there, not now. He had to keep it together, at least in front of Eleanor. Suddenly, the kitchen door burst open and before he knew it Fin was being thrown backwards by the force of Freya, who had run directly at him.
‘Fin!’ she shouted. ‘As if you’re here!’
‘Hey, Frey,’ he mumbled into the top of her head. ‘That’s the best hello I’ve had in years.’
She pulled away and stared at him. ‘You literally look exactly the same.’ Her eyes scanned the full length of his body.
‘I’m not sure if that’s a good thing.’ He felt very self-conscious all of a sudden, running his hands through his hair without thinking.
‘Aha!’ She pointed at him excitedly. ‘You’re still doing that old hair-ruffling thing. This is soweird. How’s it being back? How long are you staying for?’
Fin couldn’t help but laugh. It was as though the little Freya he’d known growing up had burst out from within the adult woman standing in front of him. The constantquestioning and endless enthusiasm; underneath it all, she hadn’t changed a bit either.
‘Leave the poor man alone, Freya. Let him breathe!’ Angela swooped in, practically dragging Eleanor into the kitchen behind her.
‘Hey, Eleanor.’ He performed another one of his lame waves, shuffling awkwardly into the middle of the room.
‘Hey,’ she replied, distinctly less horrified than the last time they met.
‘I was just about to make a cup of tea.’ He hurried over to the kettle, very aware of Freya’s and Angela’s eyes flicking back and forth between him and Eleanor. He was also very aware that his voice seemed to have risen by at least an octave and had become extremely formal in its tone. ‘Would anyone else like one?’
‘I’ll take a coffee, if that’s all right,’ Eleanor replied, equally as polite and restrained.
‘Same for me, please,’ Freya chimed loudly.
‘I’m good with my drop of poison, Finley darling.’ Angela chortled. ‘Now, Frey … can I borrow you for a second? I need some help upstairs.’
‘Argh, can’t it wait? I’m starving,’ she groaned, eyeing the table full of treats in front of her.
‘No, it absolutely cannot wait. Come …’
Fin tried to hide his amusement as he watched Freya being reluctantly hauled from the room, her complaints echoing loudly down the hallway.
‘Some things never change, hey?’ Eleanor smiled, passing Fin a bottle of milk from the fridge.
‘Thanks.’ He took it from her hands, unable to ignore her tiny birdlike wrists. Angela was right: she was so much smaller than he remembered.
‘I’m sorry to hear about your mum, by the way,’ she continued quietly, her words stilted, rubbing up against one another awkwardly. ‘I knew she wasn’t well but I didn’t know it had got quite so bad.’
Fin focused his attention on the rapidly bubbling water. ‘Yeah. It’s not ideal.’
