Page 56 of Unforgivable

“Oh right, that’s nice. You two really did hit it off. Ever heard of the internet? You could have looked it up, your amazing—” I make air quotes around the word, “—restoration project whatever. But I guess it’s not the same as being in the amazing Bronwyn love circle, is it?” I cock my head at her.

She clicks her tongue. She looks hurt.

“Sorry,” I say, but I don’t mean it. My phone pings.

“I sent you her number,” she says. I’m sure I’m imagining the note of irritation in her tone. Not.

“It’s weird, I won’t lie, that you’re giving me Jack’s ex-wife’s phone number, but here we are.”

She tilts her head, looks at me like I’m being unreasonable. “Go home, have a bath, pick up Charlie from school, plan a hot date with Jack.”

“Sure, that sounds heavenly, as long as I’m allowed within touching distance of either of them, that should work.” I’m snapping at her, even though it’s obviously not her fault, but I just can’t help it.

When it’s our turn, Katie takes the bill. I put my hand on hers. “I’ll get this.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, of course. Sorry I’m in such a foul mood.” I reach into my bag for my wallet, I can’t find it. I open it wide, check the pockets. No wallet.

“Great.” I roll my eyes. “Sorry, Katie, I left my wallet at home. Do you mind getting this? I’ll pay you back.”

“Don’t be silly,” she says, reaching for her own wallet. Is she holding back a sigh? Am I imagining it?

“No, really, I will!” I say. “I wanted to.”

“Just don’t worry about it, Laura.”

“Okay, thanks,” I say, feeling like a child. And a complete idiot.

TWENTY-SEVEN

As soon as I return to the gallery, I ask Summer if she would mind if I left early. She doesn’t mind. I text Bronwyn.

Leaving work early, thought I’d pick up Charlie?

Then I add,Quiet day here.

Which is a lie, but I’m still at the stage where I anticipate pushback.

She calls immediately. I am so surprised I stare at the screen, biting on a knuckle. I don’t want to pick up. I’ll pretend I’m busy. I’ll text again, sorry I missed your call, I’ll say. Then I tell myself to cut it out and I pick up.

“Hi!”

“I think that’s a lovely idea,” she says. “You haven’t spent much time with her lately. I’m sure she’d love for you to pick her up.”

And there is so much wrong with that sentence I don’t know where to start, but I’m dying to. The words are already forming in my mouth, petty and resentful, itching to get out.I don’t spend much time with her because you won’t let me, so I don’t know why you make it sound like it’s my fault. Also, please don’t say things like ‘I’m sure she’d love…’you don’t know what she’d love. You don’t know her like I do. Also, what are your plans regarding custody?But then I think, for Christ’s sake, Laura. You’re warming to her, remember?

“Great!” I chirp.

“So if you do that, I think I’ll go shopping this afternoon,” she says.

“Great!” I say again.

Then she says, “Listen, I’m so glad we talked last night, Laura. I think we both understand each other a lot better now. I feel like we’ve cleared the air.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” I say. “The air feels positively alpine from here.” She laughs. It’s a nice laugh, it reminds me of when we were friends, back in the dark ages when we laughed together. Surprisingly, it makes me want to hear it again.

I tell her I might take Charlie to the park on the way home. Good idea, she says. Charlie needs to run around in all that clear air we’ve just created, and I laugh too, feeling like we’ve crossed into a new dimension. Bronwyn and I having a friendly conversation about Charlie. We should try our hand at negotiating peace in the middle east next.

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