Page 35 of The Fall-Out

We all met each other’s eyes, but said nothing. We knew that Andy’s ailment was far more likely to be a bad hangover or come-down than any sort of viral infection, but we didn’t want to bring down the mood by discussing it. This weekend had been weeks in the planning, a surprise visit to see Zara in Paris, and a much-needed break for all of us.

‘Shame,’ Rowan said, ‘but I guess that means we’ve got an extra room, so you and I won’t need to share if we don’t want to, Naomi.’

‘I mean, I’m totally happy to. But to be honest, I snore terribly when I’ve had a few drinks and since you’ve not got Clara with you, you’ll probably be glad to get some sleep.’

‘So we’re just waiting on Patch.’ Matt glanced at his watch. ‘Hopefully he’s not been struck down with a lurgy too?’

‘He said he’ll meet us in Paris.’ I tried not to blush, feeling as if everyone could guess how long I’d had Patch’s number saved on my phone before I’d finally dialled it. ‘His flight from Aberdeen was delayed so he’s getting a later train.’

Rowan gave me a searching look and said nothing. But, as we moved to board the train, she hung back with me, letting the others go ahead, and we found seats together a couple of rows away from them.

‘It’s going to be kind of weird seeing Zara on her new turf,’ she began, handing me a can of pre-mixed gin and tonic from her bag.

‘Yeah, although Patch has been out to see her a couple of times already, so it’s not so new to him.’ As soon as I’d spoken, I wished I hadn’t.

‘You two have been chatting, then?’ Rowan asked faux-casually, her eyes narrowing.

‘Me and Zara? Yes, of course. We?—’

‘Nome. You know that’s not who I meant.’

I ducked my head, then took a gulp of my drink. I hated lying to my friends – hated even the idea of it, which was why, up until now, I’d been careful not to. Or at least, to lie only by omission. When the first of Patch’s texts had arrived on my phone a month before, I’d felt a thrill of excitement so intense it had shocked me – almost as much as my own urge to keep the to-and-fro messaging that had followed a secret.

Even though our exchanges had been entirely innocent: him sending me a photo of some dolphins in the North Sea, me replying with a picture of autumn leaves in a London park; him asking me how work was going, me telling him about a disastrous first-and-last date I’d been on with a friend of a colleague; and, more recently, us sharing plans for this Paris getaway, they still filled me with guilt. Guilt that was almost as potent as the pleasure our sporadic exchanges brought me. Guilt that was only intensified when I remembered what I was almost sure I’d seen in Zara’s hotel room six months earlier – because now I was not only hiding something from Zara, but hiding something from Patch, too.

‘Oh, me and Patch?’ I replied casually. ‘Yeah, we text sometimes. It’s no big deal. We’re just mates.’

Rowan pushed her sunglasses up into her glossy hair. ‘Naomi, babe, I want you to hear me out. Just this once, then I promise I’ll never mention it again, okay?’

I felt the kind of hollow apprehension I used to get when I was summoned to the headmistress’s office for bunking off a hockey match. ‘Okay. But seriously, Ro, there’s nothing?—’

‘Going on between you and Patch? I didn’t think there was. At least, not yet.’

‘What do you mean?’ That twist of guilt again, with a thrilling side of, Does she truly think something might actually happen between him and me?

‘Nome, I’m sorry to mention this. I really am. I don’t want you to think I’m lecturing, because I’m not. But I’ve noticed – it’s been pretty obvious to be honest, for ages – that you like him.’

‘Of course I like him. We all do.’

She gave an impatient little shake of her head. ‘Duh. But you like like him.’

‘I… Ro, if I did, what would it matter? He’s with Zara. I’d never, ever do anything to hurt her or spoil what we’ve all got as a group. You know I wouldn’t.’

‘I know you wouldn’t,’ she echoed. ‘But here’s the thing. You might not mean to, but sometimes things happen when two people like each other. And with Zara and Patch having this long-distance thing, it makes their relationship that little bit more fragile.’

She thinks he likes me! But I concealed my pleasure. ‘Ro, there’s nothing to worry about. Truly, there isn’t. I promise.’

‘Okay.’ She reached over and squeezed my hand, her cashmere wrist-warmer soft against my palm. ‘Because I really don’t want anyone to get hurt. And you really, really don’t want to make an enemy out of Zara.’

‘What are you talking about, Ro? I’d never make… Zara’s my?—’

‘You two are looking very serious.’ Matt’s grinning face loomed above us. ‘I’m off to the bar for a bottle of fizz. Want any crisps with it?’

The rest of the journey passed uneventfully. Rowan fell asleep; I closed my eyes, but couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d said. I remembered the last time I’d seen Patch: the pain on his face when he’d watched Zara and Daniel dancing, then the recklessness with which he’d given me his number, like it was some sort of final throw of a dice. I didn’t know what was going on between him and Zara or how deep the cracks I’d witnessed in their relationship ran, but I did know that distance was only a part of what was wrong.

And what about me? Did I fancy Patch? There was no point denying it to myself any longer, even if I continued doing the equivalent of putting my fingers in my ears and going la-la-la when Rowan brought it up. Would I ever do anything about it? Of course not. Absolutely, categorically not.

Except that, by not deleting his number from my phone straight away and now exchanging messages with him, I already had.

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