come before me in Sam’s affections. Erin’s revelations had also made me feel a little sorry for her. Although her supermarket snark and subsequent distress made me wary. Was it any wonder she was so possessive of Sam? Four years of constancy with Sam must have been a revelation after her upbringing, although I was sure she’d wouldn’t welcome my sympathy. I realised that having an Aunty Lynn at such a crucial moment in my life had saved me.
I stood for a moment watching the four of them, a composite group laughing in unison. Victoria’s hand was on Sam’s arm, her fingers patting him as she talked animatedly to the two older men, her head flicking backwards and forwards between them. She looked supremely confident, sure of her place, and I didn’t want or need to disrupt that balance; I had nothing to prove. I was totally sure of Sam’s love.
‘And then Sam did the most amazing cover drive,’ Victoria said, turning her head and beaming at him, proudly and fondly.
OK, proudly and fondly irked me. Where was the line? Was there even a line? I’d never really thought about it before, but there had to be some sort of divide between being a girlfriend and not being a girlfriend anymore, didn’t there? And if there was, was it the same for everyone? Or was it deeply personal? Did it depend on the couple, the break-up, the new relationship?
All I knew was that my hackles were up, and I’m mostly a hackle-free type of person. They were up with shouty, capital-letter, back-off-lady vibes that I wasn’t the least bit proud of. It felt like she was straying near a line, in a deliberate, toe-in-the-water, let’s-see-how-far-I-can-push-this tactic. Proudly and fondly twanged strings that I didn’t feel comfortable with.
‘Honest.’ Her hand slipped up to his shoulder, her fingers straying to the skin on his neck with comfortable ease. An unconscious gesture born of habit and familiarity. I might have forgiven it but for the fact that Sam didn’t so much as flinch. ‘It went straight to the boundary. I don’t think the fielders saw it coming.’ He still felt comfortable with her. That hurt a little more than it should.
‘Not lost any of your talent then, young Sam?’ observed the other man. ‘I expect we’ll be seeing you playing for County again before too long.’
‘That would be nice,’ said Sam, ‘but I haven’t had the call yet.’
My stomach twisted. The two of them looked right together. Dance partners that had segued into the old choreography straightaway.
‘You had a lot of injury problems last year, and the year before,’ said his dad, clapping his hand on Sam’s other shoulder. ‘Give it time. You’re having a great season this year.’
‘I’m sure it’s only a matter of time. You’re playing brilliantly.’ Victoria gave him a suddenly intimate, knowing smile, her voice slightly lowered as if imparting some secret, which yes, I admit, made me want to slap her. A hitherto unrealised jealousy reared its ugly head and I felt the mean-spiritedness of it writhing like poison through my veins. Even so, I marshalled all my self-discipline to stop myself. ‘I know the selectors are keeping a close eye on you.’
I bit my lip, loath to intrude. I was not going to make a scene, but neither was I going to slink away – and then Sam looked up. I caught the quick flash of guilt that shot across his face, as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t, which only made it worse.
‘Jess. I bet you’re gasping. Sorry. One Prosecco.’ He turned and scooped up a glass from the kitchen bench behind him. ‘This is Dad, Uncle Jeff and,’ there was the briefest of pauses, ‘Victoria.’
‘Hello,’ I said, forcing my mouth into a smile which was supposed to encompass them all. Had I practised for this moment? Hell yes. The bathroom mirror had done sterling work this morning with various versions of the oh-it’s-you look of startled interest along with the more difficult indifferent, gracious, I’m-cool-with-you-even-if-you-did-hijack-my-first-date-and-call-me-a-skank‐and‐verbally‐abuse‐us‐in‐Tesco expression.
My foolish – duh, incredibly stupid – hope that Victoria might have finally got used to the idea of Sam and me and was going to be civilised shrivelled and died at the sight of the flinty, you’re-going-to-suffer-a-painful-death-one-day glare that she shot my way. I didn’t hold out much hope for my chances if she got any closer to that butcher’s knife block on her left.
‘Jess, nice to meet you.’ Sam’s dad stepped forward, his forced cheer cutting