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Authors: Vanessa Greene
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eyebrow.
‘He was so lovely when I got there.’
‘Right. Of course he was,’ I said, before I could stop myself.
‘I know, Jen. You don’t need to remind me.’ Chloe looked a little defeated.
Chloe and Jon had been on and off for as long as I’d known her. Jon had swept her off her feet when she met him online dating three years ago, and according to Chloe their first year together had been a dream. From what I’d witnessed, though, he’d spent the following two years breaking all of his promises and breakingup with her. Then, without fail, just when she was getting back on her feet again, he would decide he wanted her back.
‘He was really apologetic about missing Jo’s wedding,’ Chloe said. ‘And the thing is, he’s not great with weddings anyway, so perhaps it was best he wasn’t there after all, like he said.’ Chloe sipped her wine and smoothed down her peach pleated skirt.
‘Jen,’ Chloe said after a pause, ‘how do you and Dan make it look so easy?’
‘Do we?’ I said, genuinely surprised that she thought that. ‘I’ve no idea, Chlo – because it isn’t, not always. Ask him what it’s like going out with someone who alphabetises his DVDs and “disappears” items of his clothing she isn’t keen on. We have our moments, believe me.’
‘OK, but you don’t have doubts, do you?’ Chloe asked, ‘I mean big ones.’
‘No,’ I replied, mulling it over. ‘Not big ones. I’m pretty sure this time.’ I thought about how different things had been with my ex – I’d had a catalogue of doubts back then. But when I met Dan things just seemed to fall into place, and while it wasn’t all perfect, for the most part loving him felt like a lazy Sunday, not a battle.
‘Good,’ Chloe said, cheering up. ‘Because as it happens I’ve had some really good ideas for yourhen night, so we can’t have you bailing out now.’
I smiled. ‘Not a chance.’
Chapter 8
Maggie
Hearing his voice was the hardest part, but it definitely helped that Dylan had picked up a stupid-sounding transatlantic twang.
‘Hey, Maggie,’ he said, as soon as she answered the phone. ‘So where are you living now?’ he asked her, once they’d exchanged a few pleasantries. ‘And what about work, did you start up on your own like you always wanted to?’
Maggie was sitting on the edge of her sofa, her bare feet pressed into the soft rug and a glass of wine on the table next to her. It was eleven pm and rain was battering against the French windows. The hot weather had broken earlier that evening and the storm was still going strong. The branches of her apple tree knocked against the glass. Maggie had been trying not to watch thephone since replying to Dylan at the weekend, but from time to time her eyes would drift over to it, wondering if and when he would call.
‘Yes,’ Maggie answered, trying to keep the tone of her voice even and steady. ‘I did move. I’m down in Sussex now actually, in an old market town.’ She was grateful that her voice came out sounding calmer than she felt.
‘Ah, right, Sussex,’ he said. ‘Nice. But I bet country living hasn’t knocked the city girl out of you yet.’
‘Look,’ Maggie cut in, steeling herself. ‘Let’s not mess around, Dylan. Why was it that you wanted to speak to me?’
They fell silent.
‘OK, Maggie, you’re right,’ Dylan said at last. ‘To the point.’ She heard him take a deep breath. ‘I never meant for it to be so long before we spoke again, but like I said, I needed some time completely apart.’
Maggie took a sip of her wine and listened.
‘I’ve been living in New York for the past three years. With my international client list it was easy enough to set up a studio over there. I’ve been photographing everything from car adverts to book covers. I know you always thought I let my work take over, but I suppose there were just some things I needed to do.’
Each word about Dylan’s success was like a stab to
‘He was so lovely when I got there.’
‘Right. Of course he was,’ I said, before I could stop myself.
‘I know, Jen. You don’t need to remind me.’ Chloe looked a little defeated.
Chloe and Jon had been on and off for as long as I’d known her. Jon had swept her off her feet when she met him online dating three years ago, and according to Chloe their first year together had been a dream. From what I’d witnessed, though, he’d spent the following two years breaking all of his promises and breakingup with her. Then, without fail, just when she was getting back on her feet again, he would decide he wanted her back.
‘He was really apologetic about missing Jo’s wedding,’ Chloe said. ‘And the thing is, he’s not great with weddings anyway, so perhaps it was best he wasn’t there after all, like he said.’ Chloe sipped her wine and smoothed down her peach pleated skirt.
‘Jen,’ Chloe said after a pause, ‘how do you and Dan make it look so easy?’
‘Do we?’ I said, genuinely surprised that she thought that. ‘I’ve no idea, Chlo – because it isn’t, not always. Ask him what it’s like going out with someone who alphabetises his DVDs and “disappears” items of his clothing she isn’t keen on. We have our moments, believe me.’
‘OK, but you don’t have doubts, do you?’ Chloe asked, ‘I mean big ones.’
‘No,’ I replied, mulling it over. ‘Not big ones. I’m pretty sure this time.’ I thought about how different things had been with my ex – I’d had a catalogue of doubts back then. But when I met Dan things just seemed to fall into place, and while it wasn’t all perfect, for the most part loving him felt like a lazy Sunday, not a battle.
‘Good,’ Chloe said, cheering up. ‘Because as it happens I’ve had some really good ideas for yourhen night, so we can’t have you bailing out now.’
I smiled. ‘Not a chance.’
Chapter 8
Maggie
Hearing his voice was the hardest part, but it definitely helped that Dylan had picked up a stupid-sounding transatlantic twang.
‘Hey, Maggie,’ he said, as soon as she answered the phone. ‘So where are you living now?’ he asked her, once they’d exchanged a few pleasantries. ‘And what about work, did you start up on your own like you always wanted to?’
Maggie was sitting on the edge of her sofa, her bare feet pressed into the soft rug and a glass of wine on the table next to her. It was eleven pm and rain was battering against the French windows. The hot weather had broken earlier that evening and the storm was still going strong. The branches of her apple tree knocked against the glass. Maggie had been trying not to watch thephone since replying to Dylan at the weekend, but from time to time her eyes would drift over to it, wondering if and when he would call.
‘Yes,’ Maggie answered, trying to keep the tone of her voice even and steady. ‘I did move. I’m down in Sussex now actually, in an old market town.’ She was grateful that her voice came out sounding calmer than she felt.
‘Ah, right, Sussex,’ he said. ‘Nice. But I bet country living hasn’t knocked the city girl out of you yet.’
‘Look,’ Maggie cut in, steeling herself. ‘Let’s not mess around, Dylan. Why was it that you wanted to speak to me?’
They fell silent.
‘OK, Maggie, you’re right,’ Dylan said at last. ‘To the point.’ She heard him take a deep breath. ‘I never meant for it to be so long before we spoke again, but like I said, I needed some time completely apart.’
Maggie took a sip of her wine and listened.
‘I’ve been living in New York for the past three years. With my international client list it was easy enough to set up a studio over there. I’ve been photographing everything from car adverts to book covers. I know you always thought I let my work take over, but I suppose there were just some things I needed to do.’
Each word about Dylan’s success was like a stab to
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