‘Fire her?’ Elsa asked, a meatball half-way to her mouth. ‘Has Jessie been moonlighting for Wood’s?’
‘Um, no,’ I said, quickly. ‘He just asked me for some advice a couple of times… you know, a woman’s perspective on what outfit to wear… we had a couple of conversations about colours for the living room…’
‘It wasn’t just me!’ Arthur blurted, face starting to glow. ‘Isaac and Elliot wanted advice, too.’
‘But it’s not a job?’ Connie asked, eyebrow raised with a hint of amusement. ‘You didn’t pay Jessie for advice?’
There was a long, lingering moment before Elliot broke the silence. ‘We didn’t give Jessie any money, no.’
‘Phew!’ Elsa exclaimed. ‘Paying your housemate, sister and friend to tell you how to dress? Now thatwouldbe creepy!’
‘How’s Seb getting on?’ Isaac asked, in a blatant attempt to steer the conversation away from potential humiliation all round. ‘Still renting out boats?’
My cheeks began to flush before I sternly reminded myself that this was nothing to be ashamed of. ‘I wouldn’t know. We broke up.’
I couldn’t resist sneaking a peek at Elliot, sat on the far corner of the table to me. His eyes, wide with surprise, sent a ripple of electricity across my skin.
‘What?’ Isaac sat back, looking almost as astonished as his best friend. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘It only happened a couple of days ago. I’ve had other things on my mind.’
‘That insensitive git,’ Isaac went on. ‘He could have at least waited until after the funeral.’
‘Oh, no.’ I couldn’t look at Elliot this time, sure he would notice my heart pounding through my tea dress. ‘I ended it, not him.’
‘Wow.’ I tried not to be offended that this seemed an even bigger shock to my twin.
‘Well done you,’ Connie said, holding her glass up to chink against mine. ‘I knew you’d make the right decision.’
‘Is there something going on here that I don’t know about?’ Isaac asked, growing increasingly miffed.
‘Either way, now’s probably not the time and place to be asking Jessie about it,’ Connie said, patting his arm in a way that bore a startling resemblance to my parents.
I took a large swig of wine.
‘He’s having a great time wherever he is this week, and I realised, contrary to my expectations, I enjoy being here. If that doesn’t sound insensitive, given I went to a good friend’s funeral today.’ I sighed, trying to find the right words. ‘I suppose that home is starting to feel like home again. And I’m thinking I might like to stay here, more than I’d like to be wherever Seb ends up. So, yeah.’ I shrugged. ‘It felt like the right thing to do.’
‘Cheers to Jessie coming home!’ Arthur cried, holding his glass up, and seeing my new friends smiling as they toasted my decision was the loveliest end to a heart-breaking fortnight.
Only one friend wasn’t laughing. His smile was small but deadly serious, as his dark eyes fixed on mine from across the table, with a question behind them that I suspected the answer to would thrill and terrify me at the same time.
The truth was, I had admitted to myself before calling Seb a couple of days earlier, Seb’s suggestion to stop being exclusive was the major reason we needed to break up. Not because I was upset about it, as I had been initially, but because thoughts about being non-exclusive had started popping into my head at random moments. For example, when walking back from my parents with Elliot, or when he brought me a coffee and a piece of cake and asked how I was feeling, or left a bunch of cow parsley he’d picked on his evening run on the table with a sticky note saying that he was here if I wanted to talk. Increasingly, in those moments, I started to wonder what it would be like if I was free to hold Elliot’s hand or eat dinner with him on a real date. To rest my head on his shoulder when we both ended up on the sofa watching a film. And when I found myself imagining what it would be like if he tilted his head towards me and pressed his lips against mine, I knew that I had to be honest with myself, and then with Seb.
Nothing could ever happen with Elliot; these were sentimental feelings about a first love, who could never be anything more than that because of one terrible night. But, if I was having these kinds of feelings about anyone other than the man I’d been living with for three years, who was clearly moving on, then it was time to accept that I was moving on too.
Was I sad about breaking up with Seb? Of course. Did I miss him? At times, with an ache that burned in my guts. But entangled in the sadness was a tiny shoot of joy that I was not only surviving without him, but starting to thrive again. It felt like a whole new stage in my recovery, and one that it felt right and proper to continue alone.
Alone. That was, until I remembered the look on Elliot’s face when he’d heard I was now single.
35
When Elliot excused himself for his run, I too thanked everyone for the meal and the company, but I was going on a walk, and no, I didn’t want anyone to come with me.
It took twenty minutes to make my way through the village. We were now in the heart of June, and even this late in the day, heat lingered in the air along with the scent of blistering pavements and sun-scorched lawns. I’d set off with the intention of wandering along with my thoughts, but wasn’t at all surprised to find that my feet had taken me back to the bench.
The lane was empty, so I sat down, the sense of my missing friend so strong that I felt sure if I turned to the side I’d find her sitting beside me, gazing dreamily at the horses in the field across the road.
It wasn’t long, or eloquent, what I needed to say to her, but here seemed like a far better place than at the church, or the crematorium.
