‘I’m too old to be your friend,’ said Diana, but not convincingly.
‘Are there rules for friendships? I didn’t know that age differences matter when you’re buddies.’
Diana frowned. ‘Buddies,’ she repeated and rolled her eyes at Amanda. ‘So American.’
‘As apple pie, buddy,’ teased Amanda, and Diana laughed in spite of herself.
Amanda was serious for a moment. ‘The only thing is, I haven’t driven much. I mean, I have my licence, but we didn’t have a car in New York, and over in America we drive on the other side of the road.’
Diana turned and started to walk back the way they had come.
‘You can get Simon to teach you – he will know how. Now, come on to my house and I will make you tea.’
Amanda’s phone buzzed in her pocket and she took it out and saw a message from Lainie.
Thanks for the photos. Love everything. FYI, I saw Mike out with a blonde. He’s so gross.
Amanda sighed. Of course Mike had moved on quickly. Why on earth had she ever thought there was something more there? She was part-time, not a partner.
‘Everything all right, dear?’ asked Diana.
‘Yes, my friend in New York told me she just saw my ex-boyfriend out with a blonde. He clearly isn’t sad without me,’ she said with a small laugh. But she felt okay about it, she realised. Mike was nothing more than company. She had mistaken physical connection for emotional understanding. Never again, she told herself. Whoever she was next in a relationship with, it had to be a connection at a soul level.
‘A blonde?’ Diana sniffed. ‘His loss. Come on, I need tea.’
Amanda followed Diana, pushing her thoughts of Mike away for the last time. Instead she started to wonder how Simon would feel about teaching her to drive and why everyone in England seemed to only drink tea.
‘Any hope of coffee?’ she asked Diana.
‘Not a chance.’ Diana laughed. ‘You’re in England now. Our coffee is terrible but our tea is exceptional. You’ll learn to love it.’
‘Like Stockholm syndrome for beverages,’ said Amanda as they came to the gatehouse.
‘Exactly, dear,’ said Diana.
13
Simon
Amanda sat in the car Diana had given her and turned the key.
It started without any protest and she turned to Simon sitting next to her.
‘Diana was right. She said it was in good shape but I thought she was exaggerating.’
Simon shook his head. ‘I don’t think Diana would ever lie to anyone. She has that way about her, you know?’
‘No, what do you mean?’
‘I just think women like Diana… they’re raised to be polite but also not to take any bullshit from anyone. I think she would tell you if you asked her opinion on something but the key to her is, you have to ask first. She isn’t the sort to offer unsolicited opinions.’
Amanda laughed. ‘I don’t know. She’s been pretty opinionated with me. But no wonder she said she didn’t like New York when she went. You can’t walk down the street without someone offering commentary on your look, walk, your inability to step sideways in time for someone in a hurry.’
She took off the handbrake and slowly drove from the garage and around the side of the house and onto the driveway.
Diana was standing by her gate with Trotsky next to her, watching how Amanda was getting on.
‘God, this is terrifying,’ Amanda said. ‘Please don’t let me crash the car.’
