Page 27 of Somewhere Only We Know

I ran after him and tapped him on the shoulder.

‘You’re the woman who helped Diane.’ He puffed his chest out. ‘Sorry about her.’

‘My friend thinks you’re an asshole, Steve,’ I said, smiling an apology at Diane.

Behind me I heard Tiff choke.

‘I disagree,’ I continued before he had chance to interrupt, ‘because at least assholes are useful. You knew your wife wouldn’t like that flight, but you booked it anyway. And then when she had a panic attack, you abandoned her.’

‘How dare you.’ Steve turned puce with anger, and his mouth flapped open and shut like a guppy.

‘If I hadn’t intervened, she could have been a danger to herself and others. We might even have had to cut the flight short.’

‘And I would not have been happy,’ Tiff piped up.

Steve dismissed us with a wave of his hand. ‘Women, overreacting as usual. You should learn how to keep calm under pressure.’

‘Steve, dear, I think I’ve lost your passport.’ Diane tugged at his arm.

His hands flew to his head and he gawped at her. ‘What? What? Are you kidding me? Jesus Christ, Diane!’

She winked at us. ‘Only kidding.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘Very funny. Not.’

‘So do you know what you’re going to do now, Steve?’ I said briskly.

‘Back to the hotel for a nap,’ he said. ‘Not that it’s your business.’

‘No. You’re going to ask Diane what she’d like to do next. And then you’re going to do it. Right, Diane?’

She nodded. ‘Right.’

‘Oh my God,’ said Tiff as we walked away. ‘You called me your friend.’

I giggled and she giggled and by the time we found the driver from our guest house and climbed aboard the rusty minibus, we had tears rolling down our cheeks.

‘Back to Boston for me tonight,’ said Tiff, rolling her head from side to side to stretch her neck. ‘What about you?’

‘Lots more to see. I’ll show you my list.’ I took Brontë’s Gap Year out of my rucksack and turned the pages until I came to the bookmark I’d stuck between the pages to ensure I didn’t flick too far ahead.

I let Tiff read it for herself.

She cocked an eyebrow. ‘You’re happy to do the elephant stuff?’

‘I’ve been on an elephant before, I’ll have you know.’

Early morning before the sun rose too high. My arms round Jackson’s waist, kissing his back, the elephant’s thick dry skin against my legs … a day of pure exhilaration, memories as vivid as the day we made them.

Tiff gave me an appraising look before picking up my bookmark. ‘Cute.’

‘Brontë made it for me.’ It had a photograph of her sitting on my knee while I read to her. The other side contained a quote from Betty Smith.

‘The world was hers for the reading,’ Tiff recited.

‘Teaching her to read was one of my greatest pleasures.’ I smiled at the old photo. ‘I’ll never forget the first time she read a whole book to me, the wonder on her face as her brain made sense of the story. We read together every night after that, taking turns until she was twelve. When she hit her teens, she’d only let me read to her if she was ill. I think she still loved it secretly but was too proud to admit it. When she grew up, we’d read by the pool on holiday and swap books.’ I was going to miss those trips. ‘Those were my favourite sort of holidays.’

Tiff started scrolling through her phone, checking emails, and it made me think about ShopSwift. I wondered whether Anna was letting Lee take over the Vap-A-Rise contract. But I brushed the thoughts away. No one is indispensable, Maggie, not even you, Anna had said.