in tax law, as far as I know,’ Dan continues, ‘and Adrian’s in teaching, I think, but it wasn’t clear on LinkedIn …’
My brain tunes out as he tells me all about Jeremy and Adrian and how much fun they used to be and the walk they once did in the Brecon Beacons.
‘And Mary?’ I say, as soon as I get a chance. ‘What’s she like? Do I need to be worried? Old girlfriend and all that? Ha ha!’ I try, unsuccessfully, to give an airy, natural laugh.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ snaps Dan, and there’s a defensive flare to his voice that makes me stare at him in sudden, genuine fear. He clearly realizes that he’s overreacted, because the next moment he’s looking up from his mint and smiling like any loving husband would and saying, ‘I don’t worry about you seeing Nick Reese every day, do I?’
I keep on smiling, but inside I’m seething. Nick Reese is a totally different case. Yes, he is my ex-boyfriend and yes, I run into him a fair amount but that’s because he has a daughter in the girls’ class at school. I run into him at school events, because I have to. Not because I’ve invited him to my house for a special Ottolenghi dinner and taken special care over my outfit. (Yes, I have noticed that Dan’s wearing his nicest, most flattering shirt. I have noticed.)
I shrug casually. ‘I just wondered what she was like.’
‘Oh, she’s …’ Dan pauses and his eyes become distant. ‘She’s a life-enhancer. She’s wise. Calm. Some people just have that quality, you know? A kind of goodness. A kind of down-to-earth … soothing … She’s like a tranquil lake.’
I stare at him, stricken. Mary’s a tranquil lake. Whereas I’m what? Some burbling, frantic river with white-water rapids round every corner?
Is he simply tired of me? Does he want a lake, not a river? Is that the massive great chasm in our marriage that I can’t see? Tears suddenly prick my eyes and I look away. I have to get a grip. What would Tilda say? She’d say, ‘Stop overthinking, you silly idiot, and have a glass of wine.’
‘I’m having a glass of wine,’ I say, opening the fridge. ‘You want one?’
‘I’ll just finish this mint,’ says Dan, glancing at his watch. ‘They’ll be here soon.’
I pour myself a glass of Sauvignon and check the table, trying to calm myself down. And as I walk round, straightening napkins that didn’t need to be straightened, something new occurs to me. I’ve been focusing entirely on him. What about her? From her photo, she looks like a good person. She looks like a person who wouldn’t steal her friend’s husband. So maybe my best bet is to become her friend. Bond with her. Show her that I’m a really nice person. Show her that even if Dan says, ‘My wife doesn’t understand me’ – which, to be fair, sometimes I don’t – I’m still doing my best.
(I mean, he is quite hard to understand, in my defence. That mania he has for turning radiators down: I will never get that.)
I’m just telling myself that this is a good strategy and there’s no need to be anxious when the doorbell rings and I start so hard, my Sauvignon nearly spills out of my glass.
‘She’s here!’ I say shrilly. ‘I mean … they’re here. Someone’s here.’
Dan goes to get the front door and I soon hear the boom of cheery male voices from the hall.
‘Adrian! Jeremy! Long time! Come on in!’ Dan is saying, and my heart unclenches a little. It’s not her. Not yet.
I look up with a smile as Adrian and Jeremy appear – both standard-issue nice guys with stubbly beards. Adrian has glasses, Jeremy has red suede shoes, and apart from that I can’t really tell the difference. Dan pours drinks and hands round crisps while I half listen to their conversation, which is all about people I’ve never even heard of … and then they’re on to Mary.
‘She works for an environmental consultancy?’ Adrian is saying. ‘That makes sense.’
‘I can’t think how we all lost touch.’ Dan shakes his head. ‘Have you been back to the garden?’
Jeremy nods. ‘A few times. You know—’ He breaks off as the doorbell rings and I swear a frisson runs through every one of us. It’s her. It’s Mary.
‘Right!’ says Dan, and I can tell he’s keyed up, from his voice. ‘Well, that must be her. I’ll just go and …’