Page 79 of Never Gonna Happen

‘No, it’s not his fault,’ said Emily. ‘She’s a physiotherapist.’ She sighed deeply, blew her nose on a cocktail napkin, and told them everything.

‘So let me get this straight,’ said Kelly, her eyes wide and her glass empty. ‘Jamie’s ex-girlfriend has gone up to Norfolk to give him hands-on rehab in a skimpy swimsuit and you’ve LEFT THE FUCKING COUNTY.’

Emily nodded. ‘I know it’s mad, but I just needed to get away. Everything felt too intense.’

Carol pressed her fingers to her lips, her brow furrowed thoughtfully. ‘Did she finish with him or did he finish with her?’

‘He finished with her. He said they weren’t right for each other.’

‘Right,’ said Carol, holding up her finger like she’d just cracked the Enigma code. ‘So clearly she wants him back and has decided playing Florence Nightingale is the answer. I read this book once where this nurse got her patients to fall in love with her, then killed them one by one using this syringe full of poison. Sometimes she’d inject them while they were having sex, then watch them die while she had an orgasm. Like a black widow spider.’

Emily and Kelly both looked at her in silence, their eyebrows raised. ‘And was this fiction, or a true-life story?’ asked Kelly.

‘Good question,’ said Carol. ‘I can’t remember. But I do remember the nurse turned out not to have any actual nursing qualifications.’

‘OK, this has taken a weird turn,’ said Emily. ‘Louisa definitely isn’t a psycho nurse. She’s actually really nice, and incredibly beautiful. And really good at her job. She helps soldiers injured in Afghanistan.’

‘I don’t care if she’s Motherfucking Theresa,’ said Carol. ‘She’s a schemer. I read this other book once where . . .’

‘Not now, Carol,’ said Kelly quietly, putting a restraining hand on Carol’s arm.

‘It’s not just Louisa,’ said Emily. ‘It’s the housekeeper too. I think she was the one who asked her to come.’

‘Why would she do that?’ asked Kelly.

Emily shrugged. ‘She doesn’t like me. Never has, no idea why, but it’s been a whole new level of horrible since Jamie and I got together.’

‘Oh my God,’ said Carol, leaping to her feet. ‘You’re Mrs de Winter.’

‘Who’s Mrs de Winter?’ asked Emily.

‘She’s the new wife in Rebecca; it’s a book and a film with Laurence Olivier. She gets bullied by an evil housekeeper.’

Emily shook her head in confusion; she had no idea what Carol was talking about and it wasn’t really helping.

‘I never liked that woman much,’ Carol added. ‘What was her name? Anna? She got her knickers in a right piss about my plan to save the Christmas party dinner.’ Emily wondered how many times her mum had told that story, and how much embellishment she’d added over time. In Carol’s version she’d probably put out a fire and saved somebody from being trampled by a horse.

‘Do you love him?’ asked Kelly, fixing Emily with her stare.

Emily shook her head. What kind of question was that? ‘What do you mean?’

‘What am I, speaking German?’ said Kelly. ‘Do you love him?’

Emily thought about it for a minute. About the horse riding and the snowstorm and the hotel in Mauritius, and how she had felt when she thought something terrible had happened to him. ‘Yes.’

‘Then get back in your car and go and act like it,’ said Kelly, her face burning with fury.

‘What, NOW?’ asked Emily incredulously, staring at them both.

‘No, next fucking Thursday,’ snapped Kelly. ‘How do you think Jamie feels? He nearly DIED a few weeks ago, he’s got weeks of recovery ahead of him, his ex-girlfriend turns up out of the blue and then his current girlfriend fucks off. What the bloody hell is wrong with you?’

Emily was silent for a second, then she crumbled into heaving sobs, her hands over her face. ‘Oh God, I’ve really messed this up, haven’t I?’

‘Yes, you have,’ said Carol, giving Kelly a chance to catch her breath. ‘So go and fix it. Go home, get your stuff, get your silly arse back to Norfolk and don’t let Florence Nightingale or Mrs Danvers try to TAKE AWAY THE MAN YOU LOVE.’

‘Christ, Carol,’ said Kelly, clearly impressed. ‘You should be on the stage.’

‘Who’s Mrs Danvers?’ asked Emily.