‘Lovely.’ She’s back to chirpy Ruth. ‘Have you anything nice planned for the weekend?’
I stop writing, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. I don’t have anything nice planned for the weekend, apart from nursing my breaking heart, but before I can really consider what I’m about to say, I come right out and say it. ‘No, nothing much.’
‘Oh? Me either.’ She’s going to do it again, I know it. ‘We should do drinks!’
My forehead hits the desk. She either can’t, or simply won’t, take a hint. I pull my heavy head up. ‘Actually, Ruth. I said nothing much, but I’m visiting my parents in Cornwall. It’s not much really, not fun, anyway.’
She laughs. ‘Don’t let your parents hear you say that!’
I force myself to laugh along with her. ‘I won’t.’
‘Well, have a nice weekend doing nothing much with your parents, and I’ll see you on Monday.’
‘Thanks, Ruth.’ I hang up and glance at the clock. Another hour and I can escape.
* * *
I drag my exhausted body up the stairs to Kate’s flat and head straight for the kitchen, opening the fridge and being immediately confronted with a bottle of wine. I just stare at it. I don’t know how long for, but my eyes are fixed on the damn thing. It takes the sound of a very familiar voice to pull my eyes away, and I turn, seeing Kate, but hers wasn’t the familiar voice that caught my attention. Dan walks in. They both look as guilty as sin.
‘What’s going on?’ I ask, slamming the fridge door. Kate flinches, but remains quiet. My brother doesn’t, though.
‘None of your business.’ he snipes, slipping his hand around Kate’s waist from behind, and then kissing her cheek. This is the first time I’ve seen or spoken to him since my wedding, and it’s not playing out to be a happy reunion, either. He frowns at me. ‘Maybe I should ask you what’s going on. Why are you here?’
I freeze in position and flick wide eyes to Kate, catching her very faint head shake. She’s not told him. ‘Just swinging by after work.’ I return my eyes to Dan. ‘When are you going back to Australia?’
‘Dunno.’ He shrugs, brushing my question off rapidly. ‘I’m off.’
‘Bye.’ I spit, turning and re-opening the fridge to grab that bottle of wine. It shouldn’t be happening, given my own current state of affairs, but I can’t help interfering on this. Kate is asking for trouble, and I’m liking my brother less and less by the day. I never thought I’d be glad to see the back of him. I ignore the exchange of goodbyes going on behind me and focus my attention on pouring a big glass of wine.
By the time I’ve sipped half, I hear footsteps going down the stairs, and I turn to face my stupid, red head friend. ‘Are you f**king mad?’ I wave my wine glass at her.
‘Probably,’ she grumbles, sitting herself down on a chair and signalling for some wine. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Fine!’ I grab another glass and pour some, passing it over the table to her. ‘You really are getting yourself in a mess.’
She scoffs and takes a quick slurp. ‘Ava, shall we re-evaluate the situation here? You’re the one who’s been married for less than a week, has left your husband and is knocked up.’
I recoil at her harshness as she eyes up the glass I’m clenching. I’m instantly on the defence. ‘I’m a few weeks. Some women don’t find out until they’re three months.’ I’m trying to dampen down the burning guilt that’s simmering in my gut.
She gets up, climbs onto the worktop and lights a cigarette. ‘A few drinks won’t hurt you, not that it matters.’ she says, opening the kitchen window and draping her arm over the ledge.
‘Not that what matters?’ I frown, and take a more reluctant sip.
‘Well, you’re getting rid of it, aren’t you?’ She raises her pale brows at me.
The insensitive words spike at my conscience, but it doesn’t stop me slurping more wine. I think I’m more in denial now than I ever was. ‘Yes.’ I mutter, sinking onto a chair, my thoughts wandering off somewhere.
‘Right!’ Kate’s assertive tone snaps me from my reverie. ‘We’re going out.’
‘Are we?’ I blurt. That’s the last thing I want to do.
‘Yes, I’m not letting you mope around any longer. Has he called?’ She takes a drag of her fag and looks at me expectantly.
I wish I could say yes. ‘No,’
Her lips purse, and I know she’s thinking it’s strange, too. ‘Get showered. We’re going for a quiet drink, not too much, though.’ she looks at my glass. ‘Not that it matters, I suppose.