Page 90 of Love Letters on Hazel Lane

Then there’d been a voucher for an expensive hair salon. He’d insisted on coming with her to make sure that the stylist did a good job.

‘Someone’s got to look out for you,’ he’d said.

She’d thought it was sweet at the time – caring – although looking back, the stylist hadn’t appreciated having Si watching every snip of the scissors. And she’d ended up with a hairstyle far shorter than she wanted.

‘It’s more feminine,’ he’d said. ‘Shows off your beautiful, long neck.’

No-one had ever told her she had a beautiful neck before.

‘And he’s controlling,’ Gemma had said. ‘It’s so sad – all your long hair gone.’

She looked at him now; Gemma had been right. He had been controlling. And the signs had been there from the early days, hadn’t they? If only she’d seen them. If only she’d listened to her friend.

‘And remember that holiday in Italy? When we went to Pompeii?’ Si was saying.

Jo nodded. ‘With your friends. I never did like that boss of yours. What was he called?’

‘George,’ said Si. ‘Fabulous guy. Went to Eton. And our honeymoon. Remember that, Jo? Australia. Once-in-a-lifetime experience. Wasn’t it fantastic?’

Not really, thought Jo. With her arachnophobia, Australia had been the last place she’d wanted to go, but he’d insisted.

‘The barrier reef – wasn’t that amazing?’

Well, yes. She had to admit that. The one and only time she’d gone scuba diving. And it had been an incredible sight.

‘And the rainforest? The incredible birdsong. You don’t hear birdsong like that here. And those little wallabies in that park that you could feed from your hand. With the babies poking their heads out of the pouches. Remember them, Jo? We had a fantastic time, didn’t we?’

Those wallabies… well, they had been cute.

‘And Sydney. You loved Sydney, didn’t you? That trip to the opera – what an experience. We were good together, weren’t we, Jo?’

Seeing The Marriage of Figaro at the Sydney Opera House – yes, that had been a once-in-a-lifetime experience. And to be fair, they hadn’t seen that many spiders on their trip.

‘I suppose so,’ she said. ‘We did have a good honeymoon. But you chose it, Si. I didn’t get any say. And I didn’t get any say in what furniture we bought for the house. What curtains. What colours we painted each room. You didn’t even let me choose the toaster.’

‘I bought you a Dualit,’ he said. ‘Wanted you to have the best.’

Jo had wanted a red one from Argos. She’d thought that red accessories would look good in their kitchen with its black, faux-granite worktops and glossy, white units. But Dualit toasters – well, they were a design classic. It had been kind of him, she supposed, to buy her something so extravagant.

Perhaps he hadn’t been all bad.

‘Remember Venice?’ he said.

Jo blushed, remembering that long weekend that they’d mostly spent in bed. She’d barely noticed the Grand Canal.

‘And Nice?’ she said.

‘Nice was fabulous. We did have some good times, didn’t we, Jo?’

And she found herself nodding. Because they had, hadn’t they? She looked at him again – the eyes, the jaw, the lashes – and she could see why she fell for him.

He looked at his watch suddenly.

‘Sorry, Jo, but I need to be going,’ he said. ‘This has been lovely. It was good to catch up. To reminisce about the good old days.’

He stood up. Jo felt wrong-footed somehow. There’d been a shift in the energy between them, and she couldn’t quite see how it had happened. She should never have agreed to the drink. Should have gone straight home.

They walked back over the carpet, Si still avoiding the patch that Jo had said was sticky. He reached the door first and held it open for her. Si always had liked to appear to be the perfect gentleman, she thought. In public at least.