Page 30 of The Fall-Out

‘If you’d offended Kate, she’d tell you, right?’ Rowan asked.

‘I hope so. I thought so.’ Abbie sighed. ‘But now I’m not sure.’

A sudden thought occurred to me, and I took a large gulp of wine, barely noticing how bad it tasted. ‘She said she was going for a drink with Zara. Does anyone know if she did?’

An image sprang into my mind: another bar, a chic, glamorous one like the place Kate had originally booked, not like this slightly seedy pub. Two women sitting opposite each other, wearing designer clothes and drinking complicated cocktails. Their faces alight with laughter, leaning in to talk, exchanging memories and secrets.

Zara dripping poison into Kate’s ears with the same precision and delicacy as the barman would have added bitters to their drinks.

‘I don’t know.’ Rowan frowned. ‘Did she tell you, Abs?’

Abbie shook her head. ‘I mean, she mentioned it like it was a totally normal thing for them to do. But it’s not, is it?’

‘If Zara asked you out for a drink, would you go?’ Rowan asked.

Abbie didn’t answer. I remembered how she’d found it in her heart to forgive Andy, even after his betrayal of her and Matt years before, when he’d stolen money from them to buy drugs. To accept overtures of friendship from Zara – even after such a drastic fall-out, even after so long – might seem quite minor by comparison. What I knew of Abbie’s kindness, the value she placed on friendship, her willingness to see the best in everyone, gave me the answer she hadn’t.

And what about me? I had met up with Zara, even if it had been involuntary. I’d invited her into my home, even if it was only because it had felt impossible to refuse.

There was silence round the table. Then Rowan said, ‘Look, shall we have another bottle of this pencil-shavings chardonnay, or shall we call it a night? I think we’re all a bit knackered.’

‘There’s no point staying here,’ Rowan agreed. ‘Vibes are officially not good.’

‘I think we should go round to Kate’s place,’ Abbie suggested. ‘See if she’s home. If she’s okay.’

‘It’s only a few minutes’ walk away.’ Suddenly, I felt like the disappointing evening could be redeemed. ‘Let’s do it.’

‘We can swing by Tesco and get supplies.’ Rowan was already on her feet, slipping her arms into her coat.

Ten minutes later, we were walking over the bridge across the river, laden with carrier bags containing bottles of sparkling wine, crisps and frozen pizza. Buoyed by excitement, I barely felt the bitter, sleety wind.

‘This is just like when you moved into your flat after you and Paul split up, remember, Ro?’ Abbie’s smile flashed out in the darkness.

‘Ah, I remember that! It was just the best thing. I was so sad and skint and Clara wouldn’t stop crying, and I was thinking, What the hell have I done?’ Rowan recalled. ‘And then you guys turned up and we had gin and tonics and a kitchen disco.’

‘I got so pissed I had to sleep on your sofa.’ I laughed. ‘And do the walk of shame to work the next day in yesterday’s clothes, and everyone thought I’d had a one-night stand.’

I felt a pang of something that felt like longing for the young woman I’d been then – laughing with my colleagues in the office, insisting that I hadn’t got lucky but had been up late with my friends, inhaling a bacon sandwich and fixing my make-up in the ladies’ toilet before going into a meeting with a client. How simple life had been then – how spontaneous, how free of any responsibilities.

‘Here we are,’ Abbie said, looking up at the glass-and-steel front of Kate’s riverside apartment building.

‘Her light’s not on.’ I felt doubt creeping in, my excitement cooling as the wind cut through my scarf. ‘Maybe she’s asleep.’

‘Kate never sleeps.’ Confidently, Rowan extended a gloved hand and pressed the buzzer.

I felt myself beginning to shiver as we waited for a response that I was already suspecting wouldn’t come. Rowan pressed the bell again, but we were met with silence.

‘Maybe she’s still at work,’ Abbie said.

‘Or at Daniel’s,’ I suggested, but I was thinking, Or out with Zara.

‘We should’ve rung first, I guess.’ Abbie smiled bravely.

‘We’ll tell her we tried,’ said Rowan. ‘It’s the thought that counts, right?’

There didn’t seem to be much point in extending the evening after that, standing out in the cold in the hope that Kate might return or trying to find somewhere else to go. So we divided up the shopping, exchanged hasty hugs and went our separate ways.

My hands deep in my coat pockets, I walked slowly towards the Tube station, alone. Tonight had felt strange – like we were a table with one of its four legs missing. It reminded me of when we’d been a group of five. The heady optimism we’d briefly felt raiding Tesco and going to surprise Kate made the disappointment of her absence even more acute.

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