Luca sighed impatiently. ‘You know what.’
‘I honestly don’t know what you mean,’ I said innocently, descending another one, two, three steps.
‘Are you really going to make me say it?’
I turned, fingertips drumming against the banister.
‘Fine. Yes, I would like your help. Ineedyour help. There, are you happy?’ His hands smacked against the sides of his jeans in frustration, jaw clenched with discomfort at having to ask for it. I took a mental picture in my head.
‘Ecstatic,’ I grinned triumphantly, before continuing downthe stairs.
2-1 to me.
9
Sometimes it just hits me. Actually, it’s less of a hit, and more of a full-blown punch to the gut. Knocking me backwards for days. It starts as this little voice in my head, reminding me that Joe’s gone and he’s never coming back, gradually getting louder and louder until I can’t think straight, a vice-like grip tightening around my throat until it feels as if I’m choking. It travels down my body to my heart, which is pounding double time as though trying to beat for the both of us. Anything can trigger it. Someone yelling after a Joe on the street. Their Joe. Wearing a jumper I haven’t worn since before the accident and finding a familiar short brown hair clinging to the wool, refusing to let go. Today, it was an orchid.
‘It’s dead.’
‘What is? The plant?’ Alice asked bewilderedly, her eyes brightening at the extra-large glass of Chardonnay I placed on the beer mat in front of her. I was covering Matt’s shift whilst he spent the evening moving Post-it notes adorned with people’s names around on Alyssa’s seating chart, trying to pretend he understood the intricacies of why Julia couldn’t possibly sit next to Bethan. Nothing like a wedding to bring people together.
‘Yes, the plant,’ I said indignantly, staring forlornly at the once bright pink, now flowerless orchid I’d brought downstairs a few days ago. I’d hoped the sunlight that flooded into the bar for most of the day might perk it up a bit, but its two remainingleaves slumped defeatedly over the rim of the pot, their edges brown and shrivelled. ‘Joe gave it to me for our anniversary last year. It’s the last living reminder of our relationship and now it’s dead, too. Because of me.’
‘To be fair, orchids are notoriously hard to keep alive,’ Alice offered, before registering my distress, her hand reaching across the bar and finding mine. ‘The orchid was just a symbol of Joe’s love for you, Jenny, and that lives on. It always will do. This—’ she nodded towards the sorry-looking plant, ‘—means nothing, other than that green-fingered, you are not.’
I squeezed her hand, her pragmatism exactly what I needed in that moment.
‘Speaking of Joe,’ she continued, her voice taking on a cajoling tone that meant I knew what she was going to ask, ‘how have your visions been?’
I sighed, fingers massaging the pressure points on either side of my temple. ‘Do we have to do this now?’
‘Jenny, if you’re not going to see Dr Thomas – yes, I know you didn’t show up to the appointment I rescheduled for you – then I have a duty of care as your friend, and a qualified medical professional, to make sure you’re okay.’ She was sitting bolt upright on her stool as she assessed me over the bar. I felt perspiration beading at the nape of my neck. Eyes like a bloody security scanner, that one.
‘I’m fine.’ I shrugged, faffing about with the napkins for want of something to do.
‘Are you getting them more or less frequently?’
‘Less. Definitely less.’
Alice’s eyes narrowed at the speed of my reply, those green irises fixed on my face.
‘I promise,’ I added, unblinking.
‘Well, that’s good.’
I nodded dumbly, my mouth suddenly dry. It was only uponsaying the words that I realised them to be true. I hadn’t seen Joe yet today, or yesterday for that matter. Was that my doing? Had I been so busy that I wasn’t thinking about him as much? The relaxed slump of Alice’s shoulders seemed to suggest I’d passed whatever test that was, so then why did it feel like I’d failed?
‘How’s it going over there? Any SOS signals yet?’ Alice inclined her head subtly towards the table in the window, where Jacob and his baseball-cap-wearing date were sharing a bottle of red. Baseball hats, Velcro wallets and a lack of appreciation for Beyoncé were all firmly on Jacob’s list of dislikes, so it wasn’t off to a great start.
‘Nothing yet.’ I caught Jacob’s eye and gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up. His lips pressed into a thin, unamused line, but the candle on their table still burned. It was his get-out-of-date-free card. If the candle was extinguished, that was my signal to call him with a fake emergency that absolutely required him to leave right that second, only for him to sneak back in through the back door once the coast was clear.
Alice snorted. ‘Give it 10 minutes.’
I heard a noise behind me and turned to see Matt emerging from the function room he and Alyssa had commandeered for their evening of wedmin. He looked a little dazed, all wide-eyed and blinking, like a bear emerging from hibernation.
‘I need alcohol if I’m to have any chance of making it through this evening,’ he groaned, crouching down and plucking a chilled bottle of Picpoul from the wine fridge.
‘That bad, huh?’
