‘Frixie, you’re not making any sense.’
He looked so stumped that for a second, my hopes revived. Maybe Nick had been wrong about the photos.
‘This is going to sound crazy, but there are paparazzi shots of the two of you kissing.’
It definitely sounded crazy. This was all going to turn out to be a big misunderstanding.
‘I’m sorry, I should have told you.’
What did he just say? Why wasn’t he laughing at my ridiculous rambling? And why was he looking at me so seriously?
A hysterical giggle escaped me.
I never giggled – and not hysterically, for fuck’s sake.
‘It was one kiss, you don’t have to tell me everything,’ my voice continued; my brain was still two steps behind:Can I interest you in a Lady Gaga anecdote?
‘It wasn’t one kiss, Frixie.’
Everything went still. My brain had finally caught up.
‘Oh.’
‘We had a fling at university and it always felt like unfinished business. I guess we’re just exploring if it’s got legs.’
But what about me?I wanted to shout.Don’t you need to check my legs, too?
‘I thought you were all about taking things slowly?’ I tried not to sound bitter, but failed miserably.
‘This thing with Jess has taken me by surprise.’
Really?I wanted to scream. Everyone else could see it coming for miles.
I swallowed, not trusting myself to speak. But the words bubbled out of me against my will. ‘But what about us, Si?’
He looked surprised. ‘You and I are best friends, Zoë. That will never change. I value you too much. I mean, I know there was that night at the fancy-dress party, but we decided not to take it further.’
My heart sank with the weight of a hundred tiny daggers.
We decided to take things slowly, I wanted to tell him. When had he decided we weren’t going to take it further?I couldn’t say any of it out loud, though. I’d sound churlish, and the look of shock on his face if I told him I wanted more would be too humiliating to bear.
I nodded and tipped the corners of my mouth into a smile. If he saw how much this was hurting me, I don’t think I’d ever be able to face him again.
I was pathetic.
And suddenly, crushingly alone.
*
I got out of there as quickly as I could, citing a forgotten meeting. I hated myself for running away, but if I’d stayed a moment longer, watching Simon’s face as he reminisced about his history with Jess, I would have died.
My urgent meeting was with a bottle of wine in the same miserable pub as Gavin. Rob and Ayisha were there, keeping Gav company, and for a while their conversation distracted me. Ayisha, who happily drank non-alcoholic drinks whenever we went to the pub, was explaining that Ramadan was about to start, so this would be her last trip to the pub for a month.
By 9.30 it was just me and Gavin, brooding on a ripped leather bench and trying to avoid the gaze of a cross-eyed man playing snooker with an imaginary cue.
The good thing about Gavin was that he didn’t always feel the need to fill silences with conversation. So we sat and drank, and gave Snooker Man a thumbs-up every time he told us he’d just sunk the black.
If I hadn’t asked Simon, when would he have told me about Jess?
