‘Jesus, Laura, my heart is going like the clappers here.’ I gripped her hands. ‘Put me out of my misery.’
‘It’s Hamish and me,’ she blurted out. ‘We’re seeing each other.’
I was lost; what was so earth-shattering about that? ‘Well that’s nice for you, when?’
‘No,’ she said slowly, ‘I mean we’re together; as in I love him.’
Laura and Hamish? My Laura, and my brother’s best friend.
My jaw dropped open. Of all the things she could have said, that one hadn’t even crossed my radar. They’d known each other for years, but not well and there’d never been a spark between them. Or at least so I’d thought. And I saw them both separately all the time and neither of them had mentioned it.
Laura was staring at me, waiting for my reaction, but I was so stunned I couldn’t react.
‘Well, that’s unexpected,’ I managed shakily. ‘Since when?’
There was a beat of silence.
‘We swapped numbers at the funeral and—’
My gasp stopped her in her tracks.
Freddie’s funeral. July last year. The worst day of my life. Correction: second worst. The day I found out he was dead was off the scale.
I sat back against the sofa, taking this in. Laura squeezed my hand but I slid my fingers from her grasp and turned my face away. While I was burying my big brother, our two closest friends were setting up their first date. I felt physically sick.
‘How could you?’ My voice was barely audible, and tears spilled down my cheeks. I shook my head, trying to remember the events of the day. ‘Of all the places. And as for Hamish, I thought he was genuinely cut up at the funeral. But now it turns out he was working on his chat-up lines.’
‘It wasn’t like that, I promise.’ She held her hands up, pleading with me. ‘Initially we thought we should stay in contact because we were worried about you. I didn’t even see him again after that until December. We just texted each other or talked on the phone.’
‘What happened then?’ I said stonily.
‘Hamish found tickets to some Christmas party he’d been supposed to go to with Freddie and he got really down. He rang me to tell me how much he missed his best friend and I suggested we met up.’
I folded my arms. ‘He could have rung me.’
‘How could he?’ Laura sighed. ‘You were suffering yourself, he didn’t want to burden you with his grief.’
My heartbeat was thumping so loud that I could hear it whooshing in my ears. ‘And all that time you never thought to tell me?’
‘A million times,’ she groaned. ‘But we wanted to be sure that it was serious before we told you. It hasn’t been easy to find the right moment.’
We, we … already they were a couple. A pair. And three was a crowd, everyone knew that.
I should have been happy for her, for them both. But all I could feel was betrayed. The two people who’d been my closest allies, by my side, helping me through the last few months, had secretly been dating, laughing behind my back, having fun, having sex even … Bile rose in my throat. I’d never felt so alone in my life.
I glanced around the spa pointedly.
‘And you think this was the right moment?’ I tried to keep the emotion from my voice, which resulted in an icy staccato tone that sounded nothing like me at all. ‘When we’re supposed to be having a nice day together.’
She reached towards my arm. ‘Maureen gave me the courage …’
‘Stop.’ I shrugged her off me and jumped up. ‘I can’t listen to this. I’m going to be sick.’
I stormed off along the corridor and Laura ran to catch me up.
‘Fearne, wait! Please be happy for me. Remember what Maureen said, that I deserve happiness.’
It was true. Even through the mist of my anger I knew it was true. Laura did deserve to be happy. I hated that I was behaving like this: angry and selfish. But right now it felt like another loss. Only this time I was losing both Hamish and Laura, to each other.
‘Please leave me alone,’ I said in a shaky voice, reaching the door of the changing rooms. ‘I’m going home.’
‘Maureen was right,’ Laura said sadly. ‘You have forgotten what makes you happy. And until you find it you’ll never be able to move on with your life.’
I whirled round to face her.
‘Why are you so obsessed with me moving on?’ I drew air apostrophes over the words. ‘And what exactly am I supposed to be moving on to, anyway?’
‘Oh, Fearne.’ Laura’s shoulders slumped.
I pushed the door open and went inside; the wounded look on her face nearly undid me. If she spoke, I didn’t hear her, which was just as well. Because I simply wasn’t ready to hear it.
Chapter Three
The row hovered over me all the way home like my own personal rain cloud. I felt wretched; I’d never quarrelled with Laura before. If it hadn’t been for Scamp, I’d have probably made a den under my duvet and stayed there for the rest of the weekend, curled up with my own misery.
I was ashamed of my reaction to her news; of course Laura deserved to be happy and she deserved my support. But I was hurt too. We’d always been there for each other; I didn’t have any secrets from her and I couldn’t believe she had fallen in love with someone and not confided in me. And not only was Hamish in on the deception, he was the cause of it, which made me feel more isolated and despondent than ever.
My spirits lifted a little as I pulled up outside our – my, I corrected myself automatically – house, a pretty little Victorian terrace on the outskirts of Chesterfield; there, perched in the front window was Scamp. Ears pricked and front paws, one white, one black, resting on the back of the armchair I’d put there especially for him to keep a lookout. I was pretty sure that he was waiting for Ethel to come home, which melted my heart and made me perhaps a bit over generous with the dog treats to compensate.
Freddie and I had bought the house between us seven years ago; we’d had the best fun doing it up and for a time it had been known as party central among our friends. For the months following his death, I’d hated the special kind of silence Freddie had left behind him. Having Scamp to come home to had helped No. 78 Pineapple Road feel like home again.
‘Hello, you gorgeous boy.’ I crouched down to let Scamp give me his usual enthusiastic welcome and felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I took it out and read the screen: text messages, from both Laura and Hamish. I wasn’t ready to listen to them. Not yet. Instead, I cancelled the dog walker who’d been due in at lunchtime and took Scamp out for a long walk.
‘You’re the best thing to happen to me this year, you know,’ I told him as we stopped at a pedestrian crossing. He looked up at me adoringly, two chocolate brown eyes under expressive bushy eyebrows. The crossing started to beep and Scamp tugged me across the road, eager to get to the park on the other side. Once through the gate, I let him off the lead, laughing as he lolloped off to the spot where two months ago he’d found a discarded sausage; he never gave up hope of finding another. I envied him his optimism.
Ethel had left me a letter asking me to look after him if anything happened to her. A dog fills a space in your heart you didn’t know was there, she’d written. And she’d been right; Scamp had quickly worked his way into my affections as well as my home, and I was simultaneously looking forward to and dreading the day that Ethel returned to her house next door. Scamp ran back to me, his tail wagging wildly, and dropped a filthy tennis ball at my feet. I picked it up gingerly and Scamp yelped with glee as I threw it for him. Part Border collie, part Jack Russell, he had longish legs, wiry fur and perky ears. Despite his arthritic hips and advancing years he raced after the ball with all the enthusiasm of a puppy. At least I was making someone happy today, I thought wistfully, thinking of Laura alone at the spa.