‘She really helped me,’ I add.
‘What about Daisy?’
‘No. I’ve been meaning to ring her but ran out of time. It means we haven’t had a chance to talk about that last time we met and put it to bed, which is what I wanted to do.’
‘You’ll have plenty of time before Saturday, if you want to have a chat before Sam and Theo arrive. I can’t wait for us all to be together again.’
I nod, and we’re silent for a moment, a silence that buzzes with undercurrents, both of us knowing we can never all be together again in the same way, wondering how it will work out. I’d been holding onto the hope that Sam might not make it, but of course he was going to accompany his wife. As always, I feel a pang of guilt about the knowledge that only Daisy and I share: the burden I’ve lived with all this time, which makes it even harder for me to be in Sam’s company. And it’s not the only secret I’m keeping from Amy.
‘You must have realised it might be difficult,’ I say. ‘But that’s why you’ve done this, isn’t it?’
She nods. ‘It’s time we sorted this out.’ She pours us both more coffee. ‘How’s Theo?’
‘He’s good, we’re good.’ The words don’t carry the conviction they should.
‘Are you sure?’ Amy raises her right eyebrow, a look I know well. Usually it means she’s seen straight through me.
‘Yes, I am sure. It’s just me making problems where there aren’t any. We had nine months with a marriage counsellor, who said from the beginning that she could see we both wanted to make it work. I told Theo everything I wanted to say, and I think he did too, and we came to the conclusion that we both wanted the same thing, which was a fresh start, possibly even a geographical move.’ I don’t want to tell her Theo has finally agreed to try for a family, in case I jinx it.
‘That’s great. I’m so happy for you. You are good together, you know; I’ve always thought you were well suited, and I really like him. But you don’t sound convinced.’
‘Like I said, it’s just me. Despite thrashing everything out with him about the affair and letting him know exactly how I felt about it, I can’t help having the occasional doubt. For example, if he says he’s been out for a drink, I immediately wonder if he’s telling me the truth. I have to give myself a stern talking-to, reprogramme the way I think. Basically I have to trust him, otherwise it’s over before we’ve even started. He doesn’t work with her any more, that’s something at least. But I’ve made a choice and I’m sticking to it.’
‘Does he know you still have doubts?’
‘No way, that would be the end. We agreed to draw a line under it and concentrate on the future. He has to believe I trust him.’
‘Don’t beat yourself up so much. It’s a very hard thing to do. I’m sure it will be the same for him, dealing with guilt. If the doubts continue, talking always helps.’ She clears her throat. ‘That ties in with why I’ve invited you all here. We need to clear the air. Imagine if the past wasn’t hanging over us any longer. Wouldn’t that be liberating?’
‘In theory, yes, but … it’s been such a long time.’ My throat feels dry, but it’s going to happen, there’s no going back now. ‘You’re right. We might as well try.’
Amy smiles at me as if I’ve passed a test, then jumps to her feet, the tension evaporating. Sunlight floods the kitchen again as the cloud finally shifts.
‘Come on, let me show you around. There are two bedrooms – you’re in with me, if that’s OK, then on Saturday we’ll do a bit of shuffling around to fit everyone in.’
The bedrooms are small, with flowery wallpaper and old-fashioned furniture. I’d have preferred a room at the front of the house, instead of the view over the back garden. I park my case under the window and look out at the daffodils that cover the lawn in a zigzag pattern. The yellow flowers stand out against the dark mass of the forest in the background, and I focus on them, willing their light to block out the memory of the way I used to feel standing in the forest surrounded by the tall trees with their deep green foliage. I shift my gaze back to the room.
‘What time are the others arriving?’
‘Not until late afternoon. We can have some lunch and then go for a walk if you like; might as well make the most of the weather. It looks like it’s going to be glorious for Easter.’
After a lunch of a leek and courgette tart, baked by Amy the day before, accompanied by a selection of salads, we set off for a walk. The river path is busy with other walkers, and a fair few cyclists and runners go past, meaning we walk in single file most of the way, lost in our own thoughts, enjoying the ease of each other’s company that comes with a long friendship. After about twenty minutes, I flop down on a bench.
‘You look tired,’ Amy says, her eyebrows meeting in concern.
‘I didn’t sleep well last night.’ Or any night since I received the invitation. Night-time is when the worries I’ve managed to stamp out during the day scurry back into my head like beetles, the reality of us all being together again playing out in my mind.
‘You are worrying about Theo.’
‘No, it’s not that. Do you really need me to spell it out?’
Amy shifts position on the bench, putting distance between us.
‘It’s Sam, isn’t it?’
‘Of course it’s Sam. The four of us meeting up again is going to be emotional enough, but Sam … you know how I feel about him.’
Sam. Sam and Hannah. Hannah and Sam. Hannah and I met him at the same time. Six foot of handsomeness. Friendly, open face. He captained the university cricket team, and was a popular, easy-going guy with a gentle side to him. They were so right for one another that none of us ever questioned it, until Sam did the unthinkable and went off with Daisy.
It’s always hard when couples split and you have to make a choice about whose side to take, but even though they both became my friends, Hannah was my closest friend at uni. Amy and I only became close afterwards, when events pushed us together; when Sam delivered the bombshell that blew our close-knit group apart. He had driven Hannah to a desperate place and none of us were able to pull her back, and for that I could never forgive him. When you’ve seen a heartbroken woman, it cuts deep, and Hannah’s heart had been shredded to pieces. I’d made an effort with Sam, I really had, for Daisy’s sake, but it wasn’t easy, and being back here in Blackwood had brought it all to the fore again.
‘But you went out for that dinner with him. I thought you’d be OK with it.’
‘And look how that went. Besides, Theo was there, and he doesn’t know about any of that. Or about Hannah.’
‘Why haven’t you told him?’
‘Because what happened to Hannah is like having a shadow behind everything I do in my life, and I want me and Theo to be free of that. You feel it too, don’t you?’
Amy nods. ‘But Sam won’t be here for the whole weekend. Talking to Daisy will help, I’m sure. Honestly, it won’t be as bad as you expect. It’s my birthday, and I’m determined we’re all going to have fun. Come on, let’s get back now.’