Page 77 of The Village Cafe in the Loire

Clearly, Amber’s mother was yet to forgive her for her neglect of her daughter, Becky realised when she was greeted by the rather stony-faced Hannah at the door of Amber’s childhood home.

She’d managed to get the six-thirty train and although she hadn’t been able to get a taxi at the busy station, had walked as quickly as she could to get here. Now it was almost half past seven and she was sweaty and uncomfortable. But she was here.

She tried to rise above Hannah’s cold expression – after all, the woman was worried about her daughter and, rightly or wrongly, felt that Becky was partly responsible for what had happened. Hopefully she’d thaw once she heard that Becky had walked away from a six-figure salary to visit her friend.

Oh my God, she thought as she climbed the stairs to Amber’s childhood bedroom, feeling the familiarity of each step, recognising the curve in the stairway, feeling suddenly fourteen again and set for an evening of watchingFour Weddingsand eating crisps. Nothing much had changed in the house, except that everything looked somehow smaller and felt almost surreal. It was almost like travelling back in time to the early noughties when life was laid out like a map with short-term goals and lotsof free time around the edges. Only they hadn’t appreciated it then, of course.

Along the road was the houseshe’d grown up in; the one she’d lived in until she’d left for uni. She’d been devastated when Mum had sold it. ‘I can’t stay here on my own, Rebecca!’ But suddenly, now, she understood her mum’s reaction a bit more. Sometimes a place absorbs memories that are hard to bear.

She almost laughed when she reached Amber’s bedroom and saw the painted sign her parents had bought for her, aged twelve, a year before their divorce – cursive writing on a little piece of wood, the words ‘Amber’s Room’ next to a picture of a little girl in a summer hat.

Then she stilled herself, tried to arrange her face into the position of someone who hadn’t just thrown her life down the toilet (as her mum might term it) or embraced change (as perhaps Maud would) and knocked.

‘Yeah?’ Amber said from within.

Becky opened the door and peered around a crack. ‘Time for a visitor?’

‘Oh, thank God!’ Amber sat up a little against the pillow. ‘Mum keeps knocking to see if I want any more soup and honestly it’s kind of her, but…’

‘You hate soup?’

‘You got it!’ Amber nodded. ‘But she’d forgotten – it’s been so long since she’s cooked for me. And I took a bowl just to be nice. Now I’m worried I’m going to have to have it every day.’

‘Come back hospital food, all is forgiven?’ suggested Becky with a grin.

‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ said her friend darkly.

They both laughed then, as if they’d been choreographed, and turned their eyes away from each other as the laughter died. ‘How you feeling?’ Becky asked.

‘I’m OK. More scared than actually sick.’

‘Scared?’

‘Yeah. It’s like in the hospital I had all these doctors and nurses to tell me whether I was OK or not. Now it’s just me and Mum and every ache or twinge makes me panic.’ Amber shrugged. ‘Guess it’s in the genes.’

‘Come on, Amber. You’re nothing like your mum. I mean, she’s adorable. And she loves you. But you’ve always been more confident, less anxious than her.’

‘Until now?’

‘Nonsense.’ Becky gave her arm a squeeze. ‘It’s a setback, that’s all.’

‘Do you know that Mum had a year when she could barely leave the house? That’s why she didn’t come to my graduation. I said she was ill, and everyone just assumed… physically. She’s got better since then, but I never really understood how the outside world could be scary – until now.’

‘Oh hon. You should have told me!’

Amber shrugged. ‘What if that’s me, now? What if I get so nervous I throw my life away?’

‘Hey. I won’t let you,’ Becky promised. They smiled at each other and she gently rubbed her friend’s arm. It was hard to see Amber in this state, weird to see her in this house. And heartbreaking to realise that for the foreseeable future, they wouldn’t be living together any more.

‘Promise?’

‘If all else fails,’ Becky said, keeping her face serious, ‘I’ll sendmymum around to get you out of bed.’

Amber laughed properly now. ‘I don’t want you to go to extremes!’

They were silent for a moment, the sound of children playing in next door’s garden reminding them both that it was summer, early evening, that brightness and light awaited them outside if they opted to choose them.

‘Anyway,’ Amber said, attempting to sit up a bit more. ‘Tell me about your day. First day back. Were you nervous?’

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