time. Trust me, I’ve had heaps of practice. I should be a relationship therapist.’
‘You’re right, I’m going to do that. Starting now.’ Retrieving the remote control, Ellie switched off the DVD player with a flourish. She sat down and indicated the sofa opposite. ‘There, I’m feeling better already. Come on then, your turn now. Tell me what it’s like living in Primrose Hill.’
***
‘Spindly little legs? Like spaghetti?’
It was two o’clock in the morning and Roo Taylor had just left. She was single, Ellie had discovered, but currently was seeing someone called Niall who looked a bit like Simon Cowell and was brilliant in bed. She loved New Zealand wines, DIY programs on TV, and MAC cosmetics. Her real name was Rosalind but her father had nicknamed her Roo because she’d been a bouncy baby. She still worked in the music industry, writing songs for people who could sing in tune…
‘Excuse me? Spindly?’ Jamie was wearing his bright turquoise surf shorts. Outraged, he pointed to his lower half. ‘And you just let her say it! There’s nothing wrong with my legs. They’re athletic.’
Ellie carried the glasses through to the kitchen. ‘Your knees are quite knobbly.’
‘They have to be! They’re knees; it’s their job to be knobbly. If we didn’t have knees, we wouldn’t be able to bend our legs. And you said I snored.’
‘I said sometimes.’
‘Occasionally,’ Jamie protested. ‘Occasionally I snore. Like any normal man. And as for her being rude about my T-shirt—’
‘I’m not going to say I told you so.’ Oh, the argument they’d had in the surf shop when Jamie had insisted that this was the one he wanted, and she had complained that it was a hideous cross between khaki and banana. Ellie paused then said, ‘But I did.’
Jamie shrugged. ‘And you didn’t happen to mention I was dead.’
‘I know. Are you OK with that?’
‘Sweetheart, if it makes things easier, that’s fine by me.’
This was the advantage of having a conversation with someone who wasn’t really there; you could make them say anything you wanted. It was cheating, but comforting at the same time.
‘I’ll tell her the truth later.’ Ellie finished rinsing the glasses.
‘You do that. Are you going to bed now?’
She dried her hands and nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘OK, I’ll leave you to it. Night, sweetie. See you tomorrow.’
‘Night.’
She liked him to leave properly; trying to imagine Jamie lying next to her in bed didn’t work and was just too hard to bear. She hung the towel over the rail and watched Jamie head out of the kitchen.
Oh, Jamie, where are you really? Haven’t I been without you for long enough now?
Please come back.
Chapter 7
‘Oh my giddy aunt, did you even listen to a word I said?’
In the sunny bathroom, Ellie pulled the flush and washed her hands. When she emerged, Roo was standing in the hallway brandishing the honeymoon photo in the silver frame.
‘That was on my bedside table,’ said Ellie.
‘I know! You and thingy with the skinny legs! Look, it doesn’t do any good to keep stuff like this out. You’re just making things worse for yourself.’
‘What were you doing in my bedroom?’
‘Having a snoop around. I’m very nosy. It’s OK, I don’t go through people’s drawers; I just wanted to see what you’d done with the room. And it’s looking very nice,’ said Roo. ‘Apart from this.’
Oh well, it had been ten days since she’d moved in; she’d had a good run for her money. Ellie said, ‘That was taken on our honeymoon.’
‘You were married? You didn’t tell me that.’ Studying the photo, Roo said, ‘Just as well you didn’t have kids—they might have inherited those legs.’
‘There’s something else I didn’t tell you.’ Ellie took a deep breath. ‘We didn’t break up, exactly.’ Another quick breath, because it was still a hard thing to say. ‘He died.’
Silence.
Longer silence.
Finally Roo said, ‘Oh God. When?’
‘January last year.’
‘Oh God.’ She took another look at the photo. ‘And I made fun of his legs.’
‘Don’t feel bad.’ Ellie half-smiled. ‘I used to make fun of them too.’
Back in the living room, Roo threw herself on to the sofa and grabbed a handful of Twiglets. ‘OK, I’m really sorry about everything I said before. But now you have to tell me all about him.’
Had it really only been nine days since she’d met Roo? The first night they had talked for hours. Since then, Roo had taken to popping over the road most days and now it felt as if they’d known each other for years. The timing had been fortuitous;