don't know where to touch her that won’t make it worse. I don’t know what to say to make her feel better. I feel helpless, yet I feel responsible; not responsible in the way that it's my fault (I’ll deal with that later), instead it's a grown-up responsible feeling. I know that it's my turn to take care of her, to look after her as she looked after me.
She tells me, in between glasses of water and tea and cigarettes (she drove to the garage at two am and got some – I’ve never seen her smoke). Slowly it comes out – not neatly, I have to jiggle all the pieces to work things out.
‘There isn’t anyone else,’ she shakes her head. ‘I know that’s what they all say, but I know Luke. He’d never cheat but that just makes it worse.’ She’s folding over in pain. ‘It’s just me he doesn’t want…’
‘No,’ I say. ‘No.’
Then she runs out of fags and I go and get some and I change the rules.
I smoke on the days of my husband’s funeral and on the day Jess’s husband leaves.
‘I thought maybe he was a bit depressed, I mean, since…’ and she looks at me and pauses, she doesn’t know how raw my wound is but I’m not hurting for me today.
‘He lost his best friend,’ I say, because sometimes you forget that, all the people who are propping you up when you’re grieving have lost someone too. ‘Maybe he is depressed.’
‘It was before that,’ she tells me.
There is an honest appraisal then.
The one that comes when you're at your lowest, before the lawyers and family and friends step in, before everybody pumps you up and convinces you he’s a bastard and that you did nothing wrong. There is a window and Jess is staring through it now and looking at her marriage and she’s looking through it with me.
‘It was before he died. It started going wrong in the New Year.’ Jess says. ‘I know he’s dark, I know he doesn’t exactly share his feelings; I’ve known that from the start. We’ve been rowing a lot lately… I’ve been storming back home to Wales.’
I think of that night and the real reason that they didn’t come around. I just never thought they were in trouble.
‘Jess,’ I put my arm around her. ‘All marriages struggle…’ and then I feel tension in her shoulders, and then, when her face turns to mine, she’s angry, but a different angry now. She’s angry with me and she doesn’t care about raw wounds now.
Here’s another thing they don’t tell you when you marry that man that already was when you met him.
There are so many curses to being a mistress and I’m served one now.
‘Is there something going on between the two of you, Lucy?’
I just stare at her stunned.
‘Because he’s round there all the fucking time.’
‘Doing paperwork.’
‘I mean it Lucy, I want to know.’
‘No.’
‘As if you’d tell me anyway.’ Her face contorts.
‘I wouldn’t do that to you, Jess. I would never break up…’
‘Well, it’s never stopped you before.’
She breaks down, she just starts sobbing and saying she’s sorry and I just sit there wishing I were numb, because yep, Karma can be a bitch at times.
‘I’m sorry, Lucy.’
‘Forget it.’ I close my eyes, because I have to forget that, she’s my friend and I love her and she’s done so much for me and my arm is back around her.
‘I can’t do this Lucy,’ she’s crying. ‘I can’t do this.’
‘You can,’ I tell her and then I shut up, because I need to listen and not talk. I love Jess and everything and she’s been so good to me, but that night when she had her accident, when I told her I wasn’t strong enough, that I was falling apart… I was.
I really was.
If I ever say those words to Jess again, I want her to act differently next time.
I want her to listen.
I want her to know that when someone says they can’t do this, maybe for a little while – they can’t!
‘You’re coming home with me.’
It’s one of the good things about not having him there – I don’t have to ring and check if it’s okay and we won’t have to worry how long she stays, or if she’s getting in the way. The choice is entirely mine and I make it.
‘I’ll go and pack for you.’
‘No,’ she says. ‘He might ring.’ She’s a mess. ‘He might come back…’