‘I definitelyhopedI wouldn’t. Actually, I promised myself that if I did I’d cause a massive scene. You know: throw a pint of bitter over her like the wronged woman in an episode ofCoronation Street.’
‘Wow. That I wouldloveto see,’ Anna laughed. ‘Bit pointless throwing a drink at a picture, though, isn’t it? And what about … him? Do you ever think about him?’
‘Never,’ Rachel said decisively enough to mask her relief that Anna hadn’t mentioned his name. ‘Not any more, and I don’t intend to start again now. It’s ancient history. I’m over it. And anyway, he was a shallow, heartless fuckwit.’
‘Would he get theCorrietreatment if you happened to bump into him?’ Anna asked, draining her mug of tea and getting up to stir the bolognese pan.
‘God, I don’t know,’ Rachel replied. ‘I hope I never find out.’
‘While we’re on the subject of ex-boyfriends,’ Anna said as Rachel began loading the dishwasher with their tea things, ‘your mum phoned the landline earlier. Said she’s been trying to get hold of you with no joy. Also, she asked how you were getting on with Laurence.’
‘Oh,bollocks. Sorry. I’ve been meaning to talk to her.’
‘Mmm-hmm.’ Anna nodded. ‘I had to fudge it and say you two were fine, as far as I knew – but I hate lying, especially when I’ve not been warned I might have to. Why haven’t you told her you and Laurence have split up? It’s been, like, three weeks.’
‘Ugh, I don’t know,’ Rachel mumbled, aware that she sounded like a sulky teenager. ‘I just couldn’t face it somehow. She’s always so much happier when I have a boyfriend. She stops griping at me about the future and actually listens to what I say about life right now. Plus, whenever I break up with anyone she immediately assumes that I’ve either been dumped or made the wrong decision. The idea that I might choose to end a relationship in a calm and mature way because it genuinely isn’t working … Well, that’s completely beyond her. It’s infuriating.’
Anna patted Rachel’s shoulder as she collected four sets of cutlery from the drawer next to the oven, then began laying it out on the table.
‘You need to tell her, though. You know that, yes? Kicking the conversation down the road won’t make it any easier.’
‘I’ll talk to her,’ Rachel said. ‘I promise. Tomorrow, maybe.’
‘Right,’ Anna said, in a tone that strongly suggested a lecture was imminent.
Then, as if to offer Rachel a reprieve, the door buzzer sounded. She jumped and ran to answer it with uncharacteristic speed.
Will and Tom were clutching corner shop bags that clinked as they were carried through to the kitchen, then set down on the worktop.
‘Wine, as promised,’ Will said, swiping a cherry tomato from the salad bowl, then dropping a kiss on Anna’s lips.
‘Chianti, very nice,’ she said as she unpacked the bags. ‘Four bottles seems a bit much, though – it’s a school night.’
Will shrugged. ‘You implied there was a crisis.’
‘I didnot,’ Anna hissed, scowling at him.
‘Oh, marvellous,’ Rachel moaned, throwing her hands up at Anna. ‘I take it you’ve made these two aware that my former romantic nemesis has begun appearing on the side of London buses?’
‘Sorry.’ Anna grimaced. ‘I didn’t mean to. I was trying to work out how widespread the ads were after I saw my first one last night. I asked Will if he’d spotted any, and then I sort of ended up explaining …’
‘They’reeverywhere, aren’t they?’ Will said, awestruck. ‘All over the Tube as well, did you know?’
Anna fixed him with a glare that suggested she wished he’d turn to stone, then handed him the bottle opener.
‘You know where the glasses are.’
Anna and Will were thoroughly, solidly in love, and had been together for nearly four years. Rachel’s mum had taken to reminding her, pretty much every time they spoke, that this was a ‘significant length of time’. ‘It surely means they’ll want to live together soon,’ she would say. ‘And what will you do then?’
Rachel had discovered that ‘Find somewhere else to live’ was not the correct response to this question, though she was yet to establish precisely what other reaction her mother would deem acceptable.
Anna owned the flat – and its impressive collection of cast-iron cookware – thanks to an inheritance from her grandparents. Rachel was her lodger, so in the event that Anna decided to move Will in, it would be Rachel who’d have to go – though this wasn’t a possibility Rachel chose to dwell on.
They’d been close since their first week at university and after graduating had lived together in one rented dive after another until, eventually, Anna had bought their two-bedroomed apartment. It was the ground floor of an old Victorian terrace in Stroud Green.
Theirs was a neat, tidy, tastefully renovated home, and Rachel loved it – but, if she allowed herself to think about moving out, it wasn’t the thought of saying goodbye to the roll-top bath or stone kitchen countertops that bothered her. The idea of living alone, or with someone other than Anna, seemed strange and unnatural to Rachel after thirteen years spent beside her best friend. In fact, it was almost too outrageous a prospect to take seriously; like the plot of a bad-taste blockbuster movie, it surely couldn’t happen in real life.
For all her mother’s doom-laden warnings, Rachel adored Anna and Will as a couple. He was more than a foot taller than her, and yet they always looked to Rachel as if they’d been designed for one another. They fit together properly, in that Will was big and sturdy enough to handle Anna – pixie-like in appearance, but formidably clever and a powerhouse of personality.
