Page 26 of The Love of Our Lives
The phone.
Pulling it out of my handbag hurriedly, I look down at the name flashing across the front with panic.
Fran.
For a moment, I think about not picking up – after all, if Emily and Fran are cousins, then she’ll know it isn’t her Emily she’s speaking to. It was different with Adam, because Emily had only recently moved in, but this is someone she’s clearly close to.
No, I can’t talk to her.
But then again, I don’t want to cause Emily any friendship grief either and I can’t just deliberately ignore all the people in her life while I’m here, cause even worse problems. I need to play along for the time being.
‘Hello?’ I say, picking up finally.
‘Jesus Christ,’ I hear a voice say. ‘You are alive then.’
I can’t help smiling. It’s the sort of direct thing Jess might say.
‘Hi Fran,’ I try.
‘Hi Fran?’ she says. ‘That’s all I get? After a lifetime of friendship, then you move to Bonnie fucking Scotland and go radio silent. I know you said you wanted a bit of time to get settled, E, but still.’
Even though I don’t know this girl, I can still hear the trace of hurt under the jokey words.
And a touch of panic too? Her and Emily must be very close.
‘I’m sorry,’ I start to say, ‘it’s just all been quite . . . strange, coming somewhere new.’
‘So, tell me all about it then?’
I try to think what I should say, what would be normal for Emily, but before I can answer she says, ‘Oh, and in case you’re wondering, the wedding admin is going quite well, thank you.’
‘Oh, yes . . . the wedding,’ I say, feeling myself almost light up that I know something about Fran already. I can work with this. I think of all the prep I did for Jess and Graham’s big day a few years back; she was already pregnant at the time, so I pretty much took most of it over for her and, in a way, it was nice – bonding like that after Cat.
‘How are you coping with it all then?’ I say to Fran now.
‘Pretty good after you gave us that checklist of yours. It’s only the seating chart we’ve got left to do. Speaking of which . . .’ Fran continues, ‘have you spoken to Simon?’
Simon. The man in the photos.
I don’t know how I know that exactly but I just do, like a memory floating back to me. Despite this odd feeling, it dawns on me that Fran might actually have a lot of the answers I’m looking for.
‘Not yet,’ I say slowly, and at least that much is true. ‘Have you?’ I ask cautiously.
‘No,’ she says, ‘although I can’t say I reallywantto see him, after what he did.’
I pause, as those feelings come to me again, but stronger this time.
‘He was cheating on me . . . when we were engaged,’ I say slowly.
‘Well, you don’tstrictlyknow that,’ Fran says, ‘it was a receipt for a dinner.’
‘For two,’ I whisper.
‘I know . . .’ she says slowly, ‘it doesn’t look great.’
Oh god.
So that’s why Emily moved up here.
