His deep, long-suffering sigh makes me feel like a wilful toddler who’s refusing to eat her greens.
‘What do you want to know?’
I hear Gran’s voice in my head.Be careful what you wish for, Amber, love. But not knowing is worse, I silently retort.
‘When did you get together?’
‘Um, I don’t remember. Sometime during freshers’, I think?’
I feel another jolt of jealousy. I was seven the autumn Dominic started university. While he was bouncing from pub to pub during an alcohol-fuelled freshers’ week, I would’ve been tucked up in bed dreaming of my two newest obsessions: Bratz dolls andFinding Nemo.
‘And how long did it last, this fling you had with Simone?’
I’m holding my breath as I wait for his answer. It’ll be a week or two, I think. A couple of months, tops. A convenient fling while they both found their feet. Friends with benefits. A brief dalliance.
Dominic exhales through his teeth, his breath tickling my cheek.
‘Look, are you sure you want to know all this?’
‘I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t, would I?’ My voice jars in the carefully curated calm of the tasteful bedroom.
‘We split up the summer we graduated.’
And there it is. Barney’s verbal hand grenade exploding in my face. It wasn’t a fling, it was a committed, long-term relationship. Three years. Threeyears! And I knew nothing about it. Not a thing. Heat builds across my chest and travels up my neck to my face. I realise Dominic’s still talking.
‘It wasn’t working. Simone took a job in Hong Kong and I started on the graduate scheme at Deloitte. We didn’t see each other for five years. Then, she met Felix. Hannah and I used to go on double dates with them.’ Hannah is the long-term girlfriend Domhastold me about. They split up amicably a couple of years ago. ‘I gave a reading at Simone’s wedding. We’re friends. That’s it. There’s nothing to get worked up about.’
‘I am not getting worked up,’ I huff, though we both know it’s a lie. ‘But if it’s ancient history, why hide it from me?’
‘I didn’t.’
‘Er, you did. And what was all that crap about you and Simone being able to read each other’s minds?’
‘It was a trick. We worked out a system back at uni. Did you notice me flexing my knuckles? That’s our tell for a Queen. A tug on my right earlobe means it’s a spade. That’s how Simone knew I had the Queen of Spades. If you’re confident enough, people believe you. They can’t see what’s going on right in front of their noses.’ He pauses, rubbing his six o’clock shadow. Histanned face looks sallow in the opaline glow of the bedside lamp. ‘Perhaps we all want to believe in a bit of magic. Whatever the reason, everyone was always one hundred per cent convinced we were telepathic.’
‘How very cosy.’
Dominic’s eyes narrow. He reminds me of a judge at a family court hearing to decide whether my future lay with Mum or in care. Aquiline nose, high forehead, steely-eyed. Patrician. Peremptory. Pompous.
‘Don’t be bitter, Amber. It really doesn’t suit you.’
His voice, as polished as Felix’s whisky decanter, makes me bristle.
‘And don’t lie to me,’ I hiss back.
I throw off the sheets and stomp across the bedroom to the chair I’d left my clothes on.
‘Where are you going?’ Dominic asks as I pull the T-shirt over my head and haul up the crumpled linen trousers.
‘For a walk.’
‘Now?’
‘It’s not that late.’
‘It’s gone ten.’ He runs a hand through his hair and pushes himself to his feet. ‘I’ll come with you.’
‘I don’t want you to.’
