thought Emma had gone home, but she’s there, with a look on her face that I can’t read. I open my mouth to say hello and then close it again.
Despite Emma’s cool welcome, I can’t help noticing that the house smells warm and fragrant with spices. There’s a sizzling noise coming from the kitchen. And over that, I can hear the sound of Rob singing as he cooks something amazing.
I walk down the hall and into the kitchen.
‘All right, you two?’ Rob looks up, wooden spoon in hand, an apron tied round his waist. He looks in his element, and he’s beaming happily, a bottle of white wine half drunk beside the hob.
The back door’s open, and light from the little garden is spilling into the kitchen. I can see the overgrown vines hanging over the doorway, and the light dappling through the leaves. It looks pretty idyllic – the perfect day for a lazy, sunny afternoon in the garden. We’ve hardly used it so far – mainly because it’s so overgrown that none of us know where to start.
‘Gorgeous day, isn’t it?’ says Emma from behind us, in her smooth, deep voice. She’s looking at me curiously. I step out of the way to let her and Jess through.
‘We should have Pimm’s on a day like this. I bet there’s mint in the garden. Have you looked?’ Jess says. She clearly hasn’t picked up on the weird atmosphere.
Becky appears from the garden with a piece of leaf caught in her hair. And she’s standing between the back door and the kitchen. ‘Ah,’ she says. ‘I wondered when you two were going to get back.’
And then there’s a rustle as someone moves one of the vines out of the way and a shape – silhouetted against the sunlight so it takes a moment for me to recognise it – stands for a moment in the doorway.
‘I told you he wouldn’t be long,’ says Emma, in an artificially cheerful voice.
‘Hello, Alex,’ says Alice.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Jess
8th June
So this is a bit awkward. I flick a glance in Becky’s direction and she manages to articulate, with widened eyes, a vague gesture with her hands, and a flare of her nostrils that no, she doesn’t have a clue what’s going on, either.
I watch Alex, trying to look as if I’m not watching him. He steps across the kitchen and puts a hand to Alice’s waist, kissing her warmly on the cheek. Emma lifts an eyebrow almost imperceptibly.
‘Jess, this is Alice,’ says Alex.
And I reach out a hand – why on earth do I do that? It seems weirdly formal, but I don’t know her well enough to kiss her and it feels like I have to do something. Alice takes it and we shake in greeting. Alex gives me an odd, sideways look.
‘Very nice to meet you, Alice,’ I say. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you,’ I add. Becky, standing behind her, widens her eyes at that and gives me A Look.
‘You have?’ Alice tilts her head slightly, smiling. ‘I hope it’s not all bad.’
‘Gosh, no,’ I say, aware I’m digging myself into a hole. ‘All very good in fact. Lovely.’
Becky’s nostrils flare.
‘Why don’t I go to the shop and get some Pimm’s? I was just saying it’s the sort of afternoon you should be drinking Pimm’s.’
I turn around and head for the door.
‘I’ll come with you,’ says Becky, hotfooting it out of the kitchen.
‘What the hell?’ I say when we get outside.
‘I have no idea. Literally none,’ Becky replies. ‘Has she come back to say she’s made a terrible mistake and she wants him back?’
I almost say ‘Bloody hell, I hope not’, but manage to turn it into a cough and then a much more appropriate: ‘Maybe she thought she should pay her respects, or something?’
‘To their non-marriage?’ Becky snorts with laughter again.
‘I don’t know. What kind of weirdo turns up on their not-wedding day and randomly appears from the garden in the middle of our Keep Alex’s Mind Off Things mission? Is this the sort of thing she always does?’
‘I dunno. I only met her a few times at work events. She always seemed quite nice, in a sort of horsey, Surrey, I’ve-got-posh-parents sort of way. Bit like Alex used to be.’
‘Did he?’ I ask, surprised.
‘God, yeah.’
I stop suddenly in the street and someone walking crashes into me from behind, swears, and then carries on, making a detour round me. I’m still not very good at the not-stopping-on-London-streets thing.