Even now, she has no idea why he picked her. He was in the year above her and Olly at school. She didn’t really know him, although he did cross-country, too. All the girls on the team were mad about him. She hadn’t really clocked him, to be honest, even though he was cute and super fit. Perhaps that was part of the attraction for him. Like, maybe he saw her as a challenge or something.
It wasn’t like he wore her down or anything. She just thought: well, why not? He seemed mature. He was certainly persistent. In Iris’s – admittedly limited – experience, most boys her age tried to stick their tongue down your throat at a party or else they sent one of their mates or their sister to sound you out if they fancied you, but he actually came up to her himself and asked her out. Three times. The first time he asked her to the cinema. The second time it was to the beach – he had his driving licence, which was pretty cool. And the third time, he had two tickets for Pink:The Summer Carnivalin July. It was, like, three months away, but how could she say no to that? How could anyone say no to that? He spun this whole story about winning the tickets in a draw at his dad’s golf club. She didn’t believe a word of it. But she thought, the tickets must have been expensive, and if he’d splashed out on tickets in the hope she’d change her mind and go out with him, he must be really into her.
‘You don’t give up, do you?’ she said.
‘Not on you,’ he replied glibly. It makes her gag when she thinks of it now, but she found it sweet back then.
It’s only now she realizes he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. It’s only now she wonders if she should have called him out on the whole ticket thing. It didn’t bother her then, but maybe it should have.
Things went fast from then on. Too fast. They immediately became exclusive, or ‘tight’ as Josh phrased it, which meant, as far as Iris could see, that not only did they not go out with anyone else, but that she hardly got to hang out with her friends either.
They’d been seeing each other for three months when school broke up for the summer. Throughout that period, Josh kept saying how badly he wanted her, but he also said he would wait until she was ready. She felt kinda pressured, though. The day before he went on holiday with his family to Greece, she had sex with him for the first time. At his place. In his bed. His parents were both at work and his brothers were out. He was gentle, but it hurt even so. At least it was over relatively quickly. Her first time, but not his.
He knotted the condom and threw it in the wastepaper basket without getting out of bed. Then he got a little box out of a drawer in his nightstand and handed it to her, looking happy, maybe even smug. It was a necklace, or rather two necklaces. The pendants – a fox and a wolf – fitted together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, the wolf’s body curled around the fox. It was like his-and-her jewellery. Iris found them a bit tacky and instantly felt ungrateful for having that thought.
Josh took the fox necklace – on a silver chain – from her. She turned and held up her hair so he could put it around her neck and do up the clasp. The wolf pendant hung from a black leather lace and as she, in turn, put it around his neck and did up the clasp, he grinned. She swiped aside a thought in her head: would he have given her that present today if she hadn’t had sex with him? She was sure he would have, but it felt a bit weird, almost like he was rewarding her.
‘I’m going to miss you so much,’ he said, as they both continued to lie under the bedcovers.
‘Perhaps it will do us good to be apart for a couple of weeks.’ She’d been thinking this a lot lately – she was looking forward to spending some time with her friends, but she’d spoken without filtering. ‘You have to admit, we’ve been living in each other’s pockets quite a lot.’
She was repeating her mum’s phrase. Mum was right, but it was clearly the wrong thing to say. Josh’s face darkened and he disentangled himself from her arms, rolled away from her and got out of bed.
‘I don’t know if we’ll have the internet where we’re staying,’ he said, pulling on his boxers. ‘You probably won’t hear a word from me the whole time I’m away.’
He said this without so much as glancing in Iris’s direction and it was like it was her fault. Or her punishment.
‘I’ll still be here when you get back,’ Iris said, trying to soften the blow she’d apparently dealt him, although she didn’t really get what it was that had pissed him off.
The day after Josh arrived in Greece, he posted some photos on Instagram and Snapchat. Photos of the beach and the hotel. In the comments, he’d written:Clear seas and skies, hotel with great food and Wi-Fi. What more could a guy wish for?
Iris messaged him – voice and text messages – several times. She sent him a DM on Instagram in case he didn’t have any phone signal. She tried WhatsApp. But when he didn’t write back, she stopped. His radio silence felt deliberate and hurtful, especially as he continued to post photos on Insta and Snap almost daily. She was convinced it was over between them. But the very day he came home, he rocked up to her house, laden with presents he’d bought her in Greece and at the duty free.
‘Why didn’t you reply to any of my messages?’ she asked.
‘I thought we weren’t supposed to contact each other while I was away,’ he answered, a bewildered look on his face. ‘Wasn’t it you who said something about not living in each other’s pockets?’
He apologized profusely, swearing blind it had all been a big misunderstanding, promising to make it up to her. She was super relieved they were still together.
It seemed like such a small thing at the time, but with hindsight, she should have seen it for what it was: a red flag. It was to be the first of many. But it was already too late. She’d fallen in love with him.
Chapter 3
Carla
NOW
Ash is late, as usual. His inability to arrive on time for anything was one of the things that drove me mad when we were married. It still does, but I no longer feel I have the right to nag him about it. Sitting in the café where we’ve arranged to meet, I drum the fingers of one hand on the table and bite the nails of the other hand.
I would have gone straight round to Ash’s house last night after Jo’s phone call, but I’d downed two generous glasses of white wine after dinner. I texted him to ask if we could have lunch together today instead. I don’t make a habit of eating out with my ex, although we often have lunch or dinner together – just the two of us or with one or both of our kids – at his place. He lives in the hamlet of Shallowcott, a five-minute drive from Holtleigh, where we live, but he works – as a bank manager – in Barnstaple, which is a good twelve miles away. I’m sure Ash senses something’s up, even though I was careful not to say anything in my message that would alarm him.
When he finally shows up, a wave of relief instantly extinguishes the spark of annoyance that was flickering inside me. He strolls towards my table, his muscular body stuffed into a suit. I’m used to seeing him in casual clothes – jeans and a worn T-shirt of some defunct Seventies or Eighties rock band like Queen or Nirvana. He’s in his fifties and he’s still incredibly attractive, an older version of Olly. Ash might look uncomfortable in his work clothes, but he scrubs up well. I brush away this thought, feeling disloyal towards Daniel.
‘You all right?’ Ash asks, sliding onto the bench opposite mine. The concern in his voice brings a lump to my throat. I’m an emotional yo-yo today. I order myself to get a grip. ‘How are the evil twins?’
Presumably, he means Oliver and Iris. Obviously, they’re not evil. They’re not twins, either, although they look very alike. They’re both blond – naturally, at least; Iris has dyed her hair dark – and they’re both blue-eyed, like Ash. Olly is the elder of the two. By almost eleven months. But they’re in the same year at school, Olly having been born in September and Iris the following July. Ash and I didn’t plan to have children that close together. I was breastfeeding Olly, for goodness’ sake. Ash claims that’s what drove the two of us apart, trying to bring up two babies at the same time. For me, the catalyst for our divorce had more to do with my husband shagging our next-door neighbour when Iris was only a few weeks old. We muddled through another five years, but the damage was irreparable.
Anyway, water under the bridge. We’ve both moved on since then. Ash has moved on so many times I struggle to keep track, and I moved in with Daniel six years ago. Ash and I might have failed in our marriage, but we consider our divorce to be successful. We are close, far closer than we ever were when we were together. I know I can count on him.
