Page 71 of The Fall-Out

Babe, I’m so sorry. What are you going to do?

Abbie:

Jesus. No wonder Zara was angry. You must be raging too. Why did he do that?

Naomi:

I don’t know. I feel really bad for Zara, obviously. But I can’t chuck it all away over something that happened years and years ago, can I?

I watched my screen. Two blue ticks appeared next to my message. Abbie started typing, then stopped. Then Rowan typed something, but didn’t post it. My screen stayed blank.

It stayed blank for a long time. I imagined all of them over on another group, talking about me. It felt horrible. All the emotions of the evening rushed in on me – anger; fear; the looming presence of grief that had never descended; the sure knowledge that, now, Bridget could surely never be left alone with my children again.

My friends didn’t know what had happened, but they knew I needed their support, and they were choosing to withhold it, and the pain of that was almost worse than all the other things. Now that they knew Zara had been right about what I’d done, they were choosing to take her side over mine, and I couldn’t say I blamed them.

Especially now Zara had been diagnosed with cancer.

As soon as the thought entered my mind, I hated myself for it. I tried to erase it, to unthink it, but of course I couldn’t.

Instead I tapped the top of the screen, scrolled down to the bottom and tapped the red words that said, ‘Exit Group’.

TWENTY-SIX

SUMMER 2011

Two weeks after that first night with Patch, I took Rowan and Clara out for ice cream in a park near Rowan’s flat. Clara had strawberry, Rowan coffee pecan, and I had pistachio. Although, inevitably, Clara spilled hers down her front and Rowan and I had to share ours to console her.

‘God knows if she’ll sleep tonight,’ Rowan said. ‘They weren’t shy with the espresso in that.’

As if she’d already felt the caffeine hit, Clara went dashing off over the grass, her legs chubby and strong under her blue cotton dress.

‘Ro? Is it okay if I tell you something?’

‘You’re seeing Patch, aren’t you?’

I twisted my sticky fingers in my paper napkin. ‘Yeah. I mean, kind of.’

‘I hope it’s not “kind of”,’ Rowan said sternly.

‘What? Why?’

‘Because it’s been blatantly obvious from day dot that you were head-over-heels smitten with him, and if there’s any “kind of” about it, you’ll get hurt for sure.’

‘It’s been over between him and Zara for weeks.’ I felt compelled to get this vital detail in early.

‘I figured. I mean, you wouldn’t have let it happen if it wasn’t, right?’

‘Of course not.’ I realised I was biting the skin around my thumbnail, and tucked my hand down in my lap. ‘I feel bad enough as it is.’

Rowan sighed. ‘I’m not surprised. It’s not going to be easy.’

‘But it’s okay, isn’t it?’ I pleaded. ‘He wasn’t cheating on her with me.’

‘I’m sure he wasn’t. Zara’s going to be cut up about it, but relationships end. Shit happens. Have you told her about it?’

I shook my head. ‘Patch has. He said she’s okay about it – well, okay-ish.’

‘Don’t you think you should speak to her?’

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