‘The plumber dad. The one in the boots with the dirty white van.’
‘Greg? With the buzz cut? You really don’t have standards.’
I laugh, taking a big sip of my wine. ‘He has shapely calves.’
‘Well, ditto. I am also attracted to you. Very much so. And also top five.’
‘Your number one being…?’
‘I can’t say Orlagh, can I?’
I look over at him, cocking my head to the side, knowing where his heart still belongs. Oh, Sam. I wonder if this has legs. I don’t think it does. All his heartache is still so fresh. I’ve seen the way he sometimes tears up when he’s having sex. He always says it’s because he’s not used to the physical exertion but I know it’s because he misses her. As awful as it sounds, sometimes I close my eyes and pretend he’s Tom. I don’t tell him that obviously, but I have a feeling he knows.
‘And the deal still stands, yes? If we meet new people then we move on, we shake hands and call it a day?’ he asks.
‘I’d at least hug you for your service.’
‘I’d hug you back. And we’d still be friends, yes?’
‘Of course.’
He puts a hand in mine again. He may very well be one of my few school-gate mates so I can hold onto that at least. We can most certainly be friends.
‘OH MY GOD, GRACIE!!!’
My head turns sharply as shrill Aussie tones ring through the air, and Sam’s eyes open widely. In fact most of the bar turns around to the source. Ellie. She really has not changed. She’s supposed to have had a baby but she’s still stick thin, the hair a wonder of curls and frizz. The clothes are typically her: she’s cool with her vintage jeans, surfer-label fleece and headscarf with big statement earrings and a stud in her nose. She comes over and hugs me tightly. She was always a big hugger.
‘You look gorge! This place is gorge! Look at you!’
Look at me. Ellie and I are polar opposites. She is ethereally beautiful, effortlessly so, whereas for me just getting out of the house meant thirty minutes of struggling with eye make-up because liquid eyeliner is evil.
‘And who are you?’ she asks, glancing over to my right.
‘This is Sam. Sam, this is Ellie.’
She throws her arms around him and Sam takes a step back to steady himself.
‘Love, you’re dating? This is epic! You’re cute. I’m bowled over to meet ya. And this is Ryan!’
A figure emerges from behind her. He’s wearing shorts in a British winter with Vans trainers but I stop for a minute to see his face. Tom? I can’t breathe. He’s exactly the same height, build and hair colour. No. I’d seen random pics of him but I hadn’t seen a close-up. Sam senses my shock and goes over to shake his hand.
‘Mate, I’m Sam – good to meet you.’
Ellie grabs him by the shoulders. ‘I know, right, Gracie. Isn’t Ry the spit of our Tom?’
‘It’s uncanny,’ I mutter awkwardly. ‘I’m Grace.’
‘TheGrace,’ he says.
‘You make me sound like a boat.’
This makes Ellie howl with laughter. She really did this, didn’t she? She married someone who’s a physical clone of Tom. I can’t stop staring at Ryan’s face. I want to grab it and feel it to see if it’s real or not. Ellie, this is weird.
‘How about we all start with some drinks? I’ll get some glasses – this wine is decent if you want to share?’ Sam continues.
‘Now you’re talking, Sam. I’m also famished. Food please, veggo menu if they have it.’
Ellie links arms with Sam and they head to the bar, leaving me standing there with Tom 2.0.
