Page 44 of Not in a Million Years

But I felt restless, with no idea how to fill the time. I returned to my room and sat on the balcony for a bit. The prospect of Daniel appearing on the other side of the wall, so close but as distant as he’d ever been, made me edgy – but the prospect of him not appearing made me even edgier. I’d got used to the idea of him being here with me, I realised, and now that he wasn’t I felt at a loose end.

It was almost as if I was missing him, which was clearly so preposterous as to be impossible. Far more likely I just had PMS, or indigestion from breakfast.

I stood and looked down at the pool – only a few sunloungers were occupied, none by him. So I put on my swimsuit, slathered on factor 50 sunblock and headed down.

But I couldn’t relax there, either. Even in the shade of a parasol, I was worried about burning, and it was too hot to be pleasant. I could swim, but a family with three small children were enjoying a noisy and splashy game in the water. I could stare at my phone, but the bright light and my sunglasses made it difficult to read the screen, and when I tried to reply to a text from Claude (I’d left him on read for almost twenty-four hours, I realised guiltily) and suggested meeting for dinner when I was back in London, I typed ‘my twat’ instead of ‘my treat’ and had to hastily delete the message and try again.

After half an hour or so, I gave up, got dressed and walked into town. It was midday now and the heat was so fierce it felt like hands pressing down on my body. Melting sunblock stung my eyes, and I could feel perspiration running down my back and thighs beneath my clothes. Even the local cats seemed listless, lying splayed out in the shade and refusing to come and be petted when I invited them.

Or perhaps, I thought, I just lacked whatever magic touch Daniel possessed – the quality that had made all the hotel receptionists smile at him, that brought cats flocking to rub themselves against his ankles, that had made even me – much against my better judgement – believe it might be possible for us to be friends again.

I left the waterfront behind and headed into the side streets, hoping to find a shop where I could purchase a phone for Andy. But all the signage was in Turkish. I didn’t understand how a contract would work and felt too shy to try using Google Translate to ask about pay as you go. In a newsagent, I found a copy of the previous weekend’s Sunday Times and bought that; in a supermarket, I stocked up on fresh fruit, random local sweets and four unfamiliar flavours of Fanta, because Andy loved Fanta.

And then, too hot to explore further, I returned to my room, lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling some more.

Then I reached for my phone, scrolling automatically to the Girlfriends’ Club WhatsApp. I’d updated my friends the previous day on Andy’s condition, telling them that yes, it looked as if he would be okay but no, I had no idea when he would be strong enough to return home, so I had nothing further to report. But I found myself craving the company of my friends, even if it could only be through words on a screen.

Kate: I miss you guys. Looks like I’m stuck here for the duration, or at least until I have to start my new job.

Naomi: And how’s it going with Daniel?

I could almost see her fingers hovering over the screen, wondering whether it was okay to ask. The bad blood between the two of us was acknowledged only obliquely, if at all.

Kate: Okay. I mean, I’d rather be staying in a luxury hotel in Turkey with him than with Jeffrey Dahmer, but only just.

Abbie: Aw, I was kind of hoping you’d have the chance to talk things over – you know, make friends again.

Rowan: Dan’s such a sweetheart really, I’ve never understood what went wrong between you two.

I could tell my friends anything – of course I could. But the whole sad saga felt too complex and too inane, too far in the past and too raw, all at once.

Kate: It’s fine. We’re rubbing along all right. We’ll just get Andy home and then we can go back to normal.

But what was normal? Seeing each other once or twice a year, exchanging polite nothings and then gravitating to opposite ends of the group, like a couple of magnets with their negative faces turned towards each other.

Even that would be better than the no-contact approach I seemed to have instigated.

Abbie: If you really can’t stand it, just come home. Daniel will be able to manage on his own. Or Matt can fly out and take over.

Kate: It’ll be okay. I promised Andy I’d stay, so I’m staying.

Although, of course, it was Daniel who’d made that commitment to Andy on behalf of us both, not me. He didn’t need me here – he was the one who could drive, could communicate his breakfast order using the power of Google Translate, could even charm the bloody cats on the street. So why did he want me here? And if he hadn’t made the decision that we were both staying, would I have decided the same?

When four o’clock approached, I gathered the things I’d bought for Andy together and went downstairs to wait for Daniel by the car. I could have knocked on his door, but I didn’t know if he was in his room, and besides, given the boundaries I’d laid down, that felt almost like an imposition.

But the car wasn’t there. I looked around the car park, wondering if I was mistaken. There was a similar-looking red sedan over by the fountain, but as I watched, a man and a woman got in it and drove away. I looked at my watch – it was two minutes to four, so I wasn’t late. I checked my phone, but there was no message.

Feeling hot and foolish, I waited, my mind already churning through possible scenarios: I’d offended Daniel so badly that he’d gone off to visit Andy without me, or even gone home, in which case I’d be stranded here on my own with no means of transport. He’d had an accident of his own, and I’d be stuck with two injured men to get home somehow. He’d forgotten our arrangement and I’d have to make my own way to the hospital somehow, or risk leaving Andy abandoned, alone and in pain.

But at five past four, the car swung through the gates and pulled up next to me. Daniel leaned over and opened the door.

‘Sorry to keep you waiting, Kate. I took a wrong turn coming through town and got stuck in traffic. Had a good day?’

I slid into the passenger seat. ‘All right, thanks. You?’

‘Yeah, great actually. I went paddleboarding and lay on the beach for a bit and had lunch in town. I sorted a phone for Andy – bought a handset and got a pay-as-you-go SIM card. There’s Wi-Fi in the hospital so he’ll be okay. What have you been up to?’

He pulled smoothly away, turning the car onto the now-familiar road leading past the town.

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