‘I’m sorry about earlier,’ he led with, walking into the kitchen and then stopping in surprise as his senses took in what I’d been up to in his absence. His nose twitched at the fragrant aroma of beef bourguignon simmering in the oven. Josh’s eyes swept the room, noting the table set for dinner, with the tall candles he’d used on my first night here.
‘Is it my birthday?’ he asked, his lips trying out a smile. ‘Or yours?’
I shook my head, knowing he was joking because remembering birthdays had always been a big deal with him. ‘It’s shit when everyone forgets,’ he’d once said. It had been another of those heartbreaking glimpses into his life as a young boy in care.
‘It’s been a tough couple of days ... for both of us,’ I said, holding out a metaphorical olive branch. Josh’s acknowledging nod showed me he was happy to accept it. ‘Also, as this is likely to be our last dinner together, I wanted to make it memorable.’
‘I think everything about the last few days has been that ... one way or the other.’
We stared at each other across the kitchen, both knowing the chasm between us wasn’t quite as wide as it had been when I’d first shown up unexpectedly at his door.
‘This is my way of saying thank you and letting you know how grateful I am that you gave Fletcher and me somewhere safe to stay.’
Josh gave a rueful smile. ‘I was going to say “anytime” but I doubt you’ll be passing this way again.’
I shook my head a little sadly. ‘No, I guess I won’t be.’
He nodded, as though the answer was exactly what he’d expected and hoped to hear. Except it didn’t quite match the expression in his eyes.
‘Rory is going to be here tomorrow morning.’
‘That’s great,’ I said with a weak smile. I reached for a glass of the wine our dinner was cooking in and took a large mouthful. ‘And who exactly is Rory?’
‘He’s the guy with the tractor. He’ll be clearing away the fallen tree.’
Josh really hadn’t wasted a single moment. By this time tomorrow I would probably be on the motorway and halfway back home.
I’d like to think the meal was as tasty as it smelled, but I found myself too distracted to enjoy it properly. The clock was ticking down on my time here, and there were still so many questions I’d never asked Josh, and probably never would now. Even so, when one unexpectedly slipped out, it took me by surprise that it was from so long ago.
‘Why didn’t you write to me when the Bakers moved away?’
Josh blinked in confusion. ‘What? After all these years, why is that still bothering you?’
‘I’m not bothered,’ I said, dropping my gaze and straightening the cutlery on my plate with ridiculous precision. ‘I’m just curious.’
I heard the scrape of a chair as Josh shifted uncomfortably on the other side of the table. I didn’t know if he was about to reply, but I jumped in with a quick correction.
‘No. Screw that. Iambothered. Not for me, but for a fifteen-year-old girl who was desperately lonely after her best friend moved away. A girl who spent the best part of a year waiting to hear from him, and never did.’
I looked up, my eyes stupidly bright with tears for my teenage self.
Josh bit his lip. ‘I’m sorry. I know I said we’d keep in touch ... but I was scared.’
‘What of? The postman? Me?’
He shook his head and there was real regret on his face.
‘I was scared you wouldn’t write back. That once I moved away you’d forget me, and it was easier to ghost you than to risk being let down again. If I didn’t make contact, then you couldn’t change your mind, and everything could still be as perfect as it ever was. In my head.’
In all the years we’d been friends in our twenties, when we’d talked about absolutely anything and everything, he’d never once admitted this to me. I looked at him now, and for a moment it wasn’t a self-assured man in his thirties sharing the table with me, it was a boy who’d been rejected so many times that one more blow could be the one he’d never get over.
‘It was a self-preservation thing, and I was too young and selfish to realise that in saving myself I was hurting you.’
There was a long moment of silence.
‘I forgive you.’ I had no idea if that was an appropriate thing to say or was even something he needed to hear, but it felt good to finally voice it.
His gentle smile was the answer I needed.
