Читать книгу The Widows’ Club - Amanda Brooke - Страница 12

The tap of stiletto heels ricocheted off the walls as Faith Cavendish surveyed the empty room. Behind her, she heard the soft wisp of socked feet and the scratch of pencil on paper.

‘Is that everything we agreed?’ she asked.

‘Looks like it,’ the man said, stuffing a tattered sheet of paper into his pocket. He was middle-aged, but his voice sounded older, with the telltale rasp of a smoker. ‘For a small fee, the lads could take those bags of rubbish too.’

Faith followed his gaze. ‘Those bags of rubbish are my husband’s clothes,’ she said, ‘and I’ll decide what to do with them in my own good time. We agreed a fee and I expect payment in full, no deductions.’

The man gave her a broad grin, revealing tobacco-stained teeth. It was a shame because he might be attractive if he were to take better care of himself, not that Faith was interested. The antique dealer’s only appeal was that he had offered the best price for furniture that had been in the house longer than she had.

‘I authorised the payment not ten minutes ago, Mrs Cavendish. It should be in your account if you’d like to check.’

Faith let him wait as she used her phone to access her account. Her balance looked satisfyingly healthy. ‘Fine, we’re done,’ she said.

As she led the way back out onto the landing, there was an echo to the house that hadn’t been there before. Three of the five bedrooms had been emptied during the course of the day, leaving only her bedroom and the home office untouched. She had convinced herself that she wouldn’t notice the difference, but she did. The house had been plundered.

Faith strummed her fingers on her crossed arms as she waited for the dealer to lace up his battered brogues at the front door. She regretted insisting that he and his workforce remove their shoes before entering the house. She wanted them gone, but this remaining invader showed no sign of leaving when he straightened up.

‘If you change your mind about the other pieces we talked about, let me know. I have a buyer who would snap up that dining table.’

‘I’ll bear it in mind.’

‘Or if there’s anything else I can do,’ he said. His grin suggested there was more than a business deal on offer. ‘I’m sure it’s a difficult time for you, but once you find a new place, give me a call.’

He raised his eyebrows expectantly. Faith had given him a sob story about losing her husband and needing to move out to clear his debts and the fool had swallowed it, hence the generous quote. He thought he’d sized her up; a lonely widow in need of a man to save her. How wrong he was on all counts.

She could tell him that she was more than capable of taking care of herself, that she had spent most of her life being happily independent before Derek swept her off her feet, but Faith didn’t explain herself to anyone. ‘As a matter of fact, I’ve already found a place,’ she said. ‘I’m moving to Marbella.’

His grin disappeared. Outmanoeuvred, the would-be Romeo stepped outside, but as he crossed the drive, he took one last cheeky look over his shoulder. ‘I don’t suppose you’d like to send me an invite when you’re settled in Spain?’

Refusing to dignify the comment with a response, Faith was about to shut the door when a woman stepped through the gates the dealer had been closing behind him. Faith’s stepdaughter, Ella, was in her late twenties but had none of the nonchalance of youth. Her back remained stiff as a board as she gave the antique dealer, the van, and then Faith a curious look.

‘You’re moving to Spain?’ she asked.

Reluctantly, Faith opened the door wider and invited Ella inside before the neighbours could hear any more of their conversation. Despite the tall shrubbery and expansive gardens, someone had been snooping: Ella’s arrival on the day a removals van was parked out front was no coincidence.

Derek had warned Faith that his divorce had been acrimonious but his ex-wife’s bitterness was something to behold. Rosemary had been particularly aggrieved that her ex-husband had kept the family home despite her agreeing to a generous divorce settlement and plundering funds that would one day cost Faith her widow’s pension. One or two neighbours had remained loyal to the first Mrs Cavendish, and Faith guessed she had Mr Newton next door to thank for Ella’s arrival. A wronged wife of twenty-odd years was always going to out-trump the usurper widowed after only six.

Faith placed her hands on Ella’s shoulders and air-kissed her on both cheeks. With a reassuring smile, she said, ‘I told him I was leaving the country just to get rid of him.’

Ella’s shoulders remained tense. ‘And who was he?’

‘An antique dealer. I thought it was time to declutter.’

‘You’ve been getting rid of stuff?’

‘I’ve emptied some of the bedrooms, that’s all.’

Ella’s eyes grew wide as her gaze travelled up the sweeping staircase. One of the emptied rooms had been Ella’s bedroom although she hadn’t stayed a single night in the house since the divorce. Derek had let her take everything that was hers and it had remained a rarely used guest room ever since.

‘Sorry, should I have warned you?’

‘I know it’s your furniture and you have a right to do what you want with it,’ Ella replied, ‘but …’

‘You don’t have to tell your mum,’ Faith replied, feeling a swell of sympathy for her stepdaughter, caught in the middle of a battle that was already won as far as Faith was concerned.

‘Can I take a look?’ Ella asked, hanging her coat on the polished oak newel post.

She took the stairs without waiting for a reply and disappeared into the largest of the three emptied rooms. Her old bedroom was bare apart from the bin bags the antique dealer had offered to take away.

‘I can’t decide what to do with those,’ Faith explained when she caught up with Ella. ‘If there’s anything you want, please take it.’

Unable to watch Ella tear open the bags, Faith pulled back a curtain and looked out across the gardens. The detached house was in a prime location in Woolton Village and although it was only six miles from Liverpool city centre, she could see more treetops than rooftops. Glimpsing the dense woodland that marked the boundary of Woolton Golf Course, she felt a pang of sadness as she recalled the raucous dinner parties she had hosted for Derek and his golfing buddies. Her heart suffered another blow when she turned to find Ella scavenging through the remnants of the life that had been wrenched from her.

‘It’s all his rubbish,’ Ella said, straightening up. ‘I don’t want any of it.’

‘Don’t be like that,’ Faith replied, clenching her jaw. ‘He cared a lot about you.’

‘Dad cared only for himself. You’re lucky he didn’t live long enough for you to work that out.’

This was Rosemary talking, not Ella, and any argument would be useless. There were times when Faith wished she could wash her hands of the whole family, but since Derek’s death, she and Ella had formed a friendship of sorts and for as long as Faith remained in this house, she was the curator of Derek’s legacy and his daughter was a part of that.

Faith tipped back her head and blinked hard before returning her gaze to Ella. ‘I loved your father,’ she whispered. ‘Can you at least respect my feelings?’

Ella looked down at the sleeve of a dark suit reaching out from the open neck of a bin bag. She prodded it with her shoe. ‘I’m sorry, but I hate to see you pining away for Dad. You deserve better,’ she said, her voice softening. ‘You know, moving to Spain might not be such a bad idea. Isn’t it time for a fresh start?’

Faith considered her response, knowing it would be reported back word for word. Amongst Rosemary’s many grievances was the terms of Derek’s will, which had seen the lion’s share of his estate left to Faith. What had they expected when Ella had effectively divorced her father in sympathy with her mother? The answer was obvious. They were waiting for a nice little handout should Faith sell up and move away. This was why Ella had been sent over. This was always why.

‘If I do move, you’ll be the first to know.’

‘So you are thinking about it? Is that why you’re emptying the rooms?’

Faith winced before she could disguise her feelings. She had expensive taste and in the last four years, money had been slipping through her fingers at an alarming rate. She had tried to cut back, going as far as taking a two-week cruise this year instead of the usual four, but it wasn’t enough, and the proceeds from the sale of furniture was no more than a stopgap. Not that she’d ever admit as much to Ella or anyone else for that matter.

‘Come on, let’s go downstairs. I’ve missed lunch and I’m ravenous,’ Faith said. ‘I saw my friend Tara the other day and she sent me home with the most delicious cake.’

‘I care about you, Faith,’ Ella said, not easily distracted. ‘You’re still young. You need to move on.’

‘Thank you for your concern,’ Faith replied, ‘but your efforts would be better spent helping Rosemary to move on. I’m happy where I am and as far as I’m concerned, the only way I’ll be leaving here is in a box.’

As Faith approached the village hall, she caught a glimpse through the window of Steve and a couple of the others rearranging the chairs for their meeting. The foyer meanwhile was devoid of life, although someone had been busy setting out mugs on the trestle table and there was a tower of pre-packaged muffins sitting next to them. Following the sound of a running tap, she found Justine in the kitchen: undoubtedly the culprit responsible for the supermarket fare.

‘Evening.’

‘Oh, hi, Faith,’ Justine said, her ponytail flicking like a horse’s tail as she turned. ‘Tara’s running late, I’m afraid, so I offered to come in early. Thankfully, my mum’s a godsend when it comes to childminding.’

‘A relief, I’m sure, but I can’t imagine it’s something you want to be doing every time,’ Faith replied.

Justine finished filling the kettle and set it to boil. ‘It’s no biggie. We all know Tara has her hands full at the moment,’ she said as she rinsed out the flasks. She had yet to take a pause and the point Faith was attempting to make sailed over her head.

Faith was about to try again when a deep voice close to her ear gave her a start.

‘Can I help with anything?’

She turned to find a stranger in their midst with dark brown hair and a sprinkling of grey at his temples. Dimples puckered his cheeks when he smiled, but it was his pale blue eyes that demanded Faith’s attention.

‘You came back then?’ said Justine. She went to shake his hand, but water dripped from her fingers and she grabbed the first thing she could find to dry them on. It was the tote bag with its cheesy quote that Faith hated. ‘Faith, this is Nick, one of our new members. Why don’t you get to know each other and leave me to it?’

‘Are you sure you can manage on your own?’ Faith asked.

Justine almost dropped a flask. ‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘Honestly, go.’

Nick stepped back to allow Faith through the door and placed his hand close to but not touching the small of her back as they returned to the foyer. ‘Have you been involved with the group long?’ he asked.

‘About three years.’

They paused at a coat stand and Faith watched him slip out of his heavy woollen coat to reveal a dark grey suit that looked hand-stitched. ‘And how was your initiation into our little enclave?’ she asked.

‘Just what I needed,’ Nick confessed. ‘For the first time, I feel like I can grieve properly.’ He paused, momentarily distracted as he looked over Faith’s shoulder. ‘Ah, great. April’s made it back too. Let’s go over and I’ll introduce you.’

‘Not necessary,’ Faith said, and as they went to greet April, it was Faith who placed her hand on Nick’s back to guide him.

April appeared even more vulnerable than when they had first met, if that were at all possible. Her cheeks were hollow and her padded jacket made her look top heavy in comparison to her spindly legs wrapped in black Lycra. Faith didn’t normally warm to people who looked ready to break rather than bend in a storm, but there was something about April that resonated.

Whilst there had been no other woman in Derek’s life, Faith had felt betrayed by his death all the same. Derek had promised her a life of wedded bliss and she blamed him, in part, for making her a widow. Suing the car dealership had been her way of channelling that anger and frustration, but for April, they would need to find some other form of release.

Reaching her side, Faith went in for a hug just as April was slipping out of her jacket, and the embrace took her by surprise. When they untangled themselves, April was smiling.

‘I bet you didn’t expect to see me again.’

Faith spotted a damp autumn leaf stuck in April’s hair and pulled it off. ‘I would have hunted you down, if I hadn’t.’

‘Is Tara here yet?’

‘No, but she will be,’ Faith told her. ‘I take it you’ve met Nick.’

April was swallowed up in a second hug and kept her shoulders hunched when she pulled away.

‘I was wondering if I should have offered you a lift,’ Nick said.

‘Oh, no, it’s fine. I live all the way over in Eastham.’

‘It’s a nice place,’ said Nick. ‘Have you lived there long?’

‘Barring the time I lived with Jason, all my life. It’s my parents’ house,’ April said. ‘But I’m only staying there until I can afford to move out.’

‘I’m surprised you can’t. Didn’t you say your husband worked for one of the councils? The Merseyside Pension Fund is a good investment …’ His words tailed off and his mouth twisted. ‘I’m so sorry, that was completely inappropriate. I used to be an investment banker and I was forgetting where I was.’

‘Yes, you were,’ admonished Faith.

‘It’s OK,’ replied April, blushing on behalf of Nick. Her eyes narrowed when she added, ‘Unfortunately Jason opted out of the pension scheme when he started work, not thinking through the consequences of his actions.’

‘That’s men for you,’ added Faith.

‘On behalf of all mankind, I’m sorry,’ Nick said, holding Faith’s gaze until she gave in and smiled.

It was April who filled the pause. ‘I still haven’t worked out what to wear to these things.’ She pulled self-consciously at the hem of her man-sized Game of Thrones T-shirt, a memento from her marriage if Faith wasn’t mistaken. ‘I feel completely underdressed next to you two.’

‘Oh, don’t let this fool you,’ Nick said, loosening his tie. ‘I had to come straight from work.’

‘And what is it you do if you’re no longer in finance?’ asked Faith.

‘I run a fleet of limousines. Basically, I’m a glorified chauffeur.’

‘So you’re a businessman,’ Faith corrected. She didn’t agree with people underselling themselves.

‘Trying to be,’ he replied. ‘And what do you do, Faith?’

‘I’m a biomedical scientist: I examine human tissue and pick out the cancer cells from the normal ones.’ It was a skill she wished she could apply as easily to a person’s character. She was still trying to work out Nick, who wasn’t anything like she had imagined when Tara had described him. He didn’t look the type to cry, but she would like to see it.

‘And are you from the other side of the water too?’ he asked.

‘No, Woolton.’

‘We’re practically neighbours then. I’m from Hunt’s Cross.’

They compared notes on favourite eateries until Faith spied Justine carrying two flasks of hot water over to the tables. ‘About time too. Come on, let’s get our drinks.’

The three were temporarily separated as more people arrived and wanted to chat. While Jodie and Nadiya made a fuss of April, Faith kept an eye on the door, but as seven o’clock approached, Tara failed to make an appearance. Nick had been pulled into a conversation with Steve and some of the other men, but he returned to April and Faith when Justine began directing them to their seats like a traffic cop.

Faith ignored Justine’s instructions and laid claim to three chairs of her choice. She sat down on the first, but April and Nick became flustered when they both went to take the seat next to her.

‘Sorry, you take it,’ said Nick, the now familiar dimples appearing in his cheeks. ‘I don’t know why I’m so nervous.’

‘Me neither,’ April said.

In a show of chivalry, Nick took a step back and sat down on the third chair, leaving the gap next to Faith for April to fill, but before she could take it, she was distracted by the arrival of Tara and Iain. She turned to wave and by the time she turned back, Justine had claimed the much fought-after middle seat.

‘Shall we get started?’ Justine said loudly, seemingly unaware of April’s displacement.

‘Here, take my place,’ Nick said.

Before he could stand, Justine placed a hand on his arm. ‘It’s probably best that you stay close to me for the first few sessions. April, you can sit over there next to Tara.’

‘Apologies for being late, everyone,’ Tara said once they were all settled. She was out of breath but didn’t pause as she went on to open the meeting.

‘It’s good to see you back, Iain,’ Justine said the moment they had dispensed with the introductions and updates. ‘How are things?’

‘Challenging.’

‘Not because of me I should add,’ Tara added, causing a ripple of laughter around the room.

‘Definitely not you,’ he replied, taking Tara’s hand and giving it a squeeze. ‘The good news is our solicitor doesn’t see any reason why we can’t complete the house move before Christmas.’

‘Not that everyone will find that cause for celebration,’ Tara warned.

‘My in-laws aren’t particularly happy with our plans. They think it’s too soon,’ Iain said. For Nick and April’s benefit, he added, ‘It’s been three years since Joanna died and I’ll admit, it still hurts like hell. I didn’t plan to fall in love again, but I have and I’m ready to do this. Unfortunately my in-laws live in Newcastle so they don’t see the difference Tara has made to our lives.’

‘Has Lily come around to the idea yet?’ asked Faith.

‘She’s quietly accepting – more quiet than accepting if I’m honest,’ Iain said. ‘I just hope her grandparents don’t reverse what little progress we’ve made when she visits them over half-term.’

‘It’s funny how everyone has an opinion on how we should grieve,’ Jodie said. ‘First they’re telling you to get out more, and the next thing they want you to slow down.’

Faith guessed Jodie had a story to tell. One comment could send the group off on a tangent, but Tara was there to make sure they kept their focus on one issue at a time. She was good at that. Better than Justine.

‘Iain’s going to have a word with them beforehand to make sure they don’t give Lily mixed messages,’ Tara said. ‘With so much upheaval, what she needs from all of us is consistency. We’re hoping they’ll come around.’

‘I hate to say it but they’ll have to if they want to be a part of their granddaughter’s life,’ said Iain. ‘I know they’re grieving too, but Lily’s welfare has to come first.’

There were mumbles of agreement and a couple of members went on to share their experiences of juggling relationships with their late partners’ families, but once the subject had reached its natural conclusion, Tara turned to April and Nick.

‘And how have you both been since the last meeting?’

Of the two, Faith expected Nick to speak up, but he simply nodded for April to go first. To Faith’s surprise, his encouragement worked.

‘I’ve been better,’ April replied. ‘I’m still trying to work out how I feel and how I want to feel, if that makes sense?’

‘That’s the one thing you learn fast here,’ Nadiya said. ‘What you’re going through might sound confusing, alarming or downright weird to other people, but to us it’s normal. You’re not alone.’

‘I’m starting to realise that,’ April said. She glanced across to Faith when she added, ‘It’s a relief to know I don’t have to keep all my thoughts locked away, although I’m not quite ready to tell everyone everything.’

‘You can be selective,’ Faith said. ‘We all are.’

April pulled at her T-shirt. ‘It’s like when people ask if I’ve watched the final season of Game of Thrones yet and I feel stupid explaining why I can’t. Jason and I always watched it together, and I’m so angry that he died before the finale aired. I can’t watch it without him.’

The chair next to Faith squeaked as Justine straightened up. ‘Anger is perfectly natural, April,’ she said. ‘It’s one of the five stages of grief that we all process over time.’

‘Oh, please, not this,’ Faith muttered.

‘Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and finally, acceptance,’ Justine recited.

‘Not that everyone experiences grief in such nice, neat stages,’ Tara said diplomatically. Like Faith, she questioned the efficacy of applying that particular grief model like a Band-Aid.

‘Of course not,’ Justine said. ‘Some people don’t experience every stage, or not necessarily in that order, and it’s perfectly normal to go back and forth between the stages.’

‘Or to put it another way,’ Faith said, ‘you’ll experience a lot of different emotions to greater or lesser degrees and at random times. Some days you might go through all five stages at once, or is it seven now, I lose track?’

‘The stages are helpful to some people,’ Justine insisted.

‘I’m sure they are,’ Faith said through gritted teeth, ‘but for others it can be downright distressing, especially when someone with all the best intentions tells them that they should be at this particular stage or another. We are where we are. There’s no road map.’

‘Some of us seem to have become stuck on the anger stage,’ Justine said, jutting out her chin.

‘I have a lot to be angry about, Justine. Derek didn’t need to die.’

‘But at some point you have to move past that stage.’

‘And move on to bargaining? Give me a break.’

Unlike Justine, Faith’s understanding of the psychology of grief hadn’t come from a Sunday magazine supplement; in fact, she had read extensively on the subject. Returning to April, she said, ‘Did you know that the five-stage grief model was originally developed by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross after observing terminally ill patients? She expanded it later to include other types of loss but even she noted that popular culture had misunderstood her theory. The stages aren’t supposed to be linear or predictable, if they exist at all.’

‘I have heard quite a few people mention the stages I’m supposed to go through.’

‘Yeah, Mrs Do-goody down the road and the bloke who delivers the newspapers,’ Faith said.

She turned her head and was about to give Justine her best withering look when Nick caught her eye. She couldn’t tell if the spark in his eyes was fear or admiration. After taking a breath, Faith released it with a sigh. ‘Maybe I am holding on to my anger, but sometimes that’s what gets me through the day. All I’m saying is that theories are made to be disproved and there are scientists better qualified than me to offer alternative grief models.’

‘There’s one based on continuing bonds,’ Tara said, her soft voice adding balm to the discussion. ‘It’s where we redefine our relationship with our loved one, finding ways to keep them with us by allowing their influences to play a part in our new lives. There’s no end stage, no point where we have to find closure and put the past behind us. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately, wondering if there’s a way for Lily and Molly to keep Joanna and Mike as a part of our new family.’

‘I can understand how Lily must feel having to move home,’ said Faith. ‘My beautiful house is the strongest connection I have with Derek, but if we’re talking about continuing bonds, his legacy goes far beyond the materialistic trappings of life. It broke my heart when I took the decision to withdraw his life support, but I made the right choice when I agreed to donate his organs. It comforts me to know four people are alive today because of him.’

‘I talk to my wife’s photo all the time and ask her advice,’ Steve said. ‘I can feel her pushing me out the door when all I want to do is lock myself away. It’s why I managed to drag myself here in the first place.’

‘And Justine and I would never have set up the group if it wasn’t for Mike and Lisa,’ Tara added. ‘Our paths have all taken a turn we never expected, but when we do something to challenge ourselves, it’s nice to be able to glance over our shoulders and say thank you, I did that because of you.’

‘Erin’s death devastated me.’ Nick was staring at the floor so he didn’t see every face turn in his direction. ‘After she died, I completely shut down,’ he continued. ‘I lost everything and that might have been her legacy, but she deserved better from me. She always did.’ He tried to continue but his voice caught in his throat. ‘Sorry.’

Justine reached over to touch his hand. ‘I’m sure Erin would be proud of you for being here.’

Nick straightened up as Justine pulled her hand away. ‘Actually, she’d probably tell me to man up. She said that a lot.’

‘That won’t do you any good here, mate,’ Steve told him. ‘It’s the one place where you don’t have to hide your feelings.’

‘I think that was part of the problem, but I’m happy to report I’ve been turning things around,’ Nick replied. ‘After losing my job, I put on loads of weight to the point where people stopped recognising me. Then I realised it was the one part of my life I could control, so I hit the gym and literally worked out my frustrations.’

‘I’ve tried working out,’ April said, ‘but I can’t say it made me feel any better.’

‘Give it time,’ Nick said. ‘I was lifting weights when I had this lightbulb moment about starting a limo business. I invested every last penny into it and, touch wood, it’s going well.’

‘As are you,’ Jodie said.

‘I have my moments. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to pull over so I can bawl my eyes out. But just in case anyone’s thinking of using my services, I don’t usually break down when I have passengers in the back.’

‘Letting loose my emotions while driving is my speciality,’ Steve admitted. ‘I have two teenage lads and the last thing they want to see is me snivelling.’

‘Thankfully, I don’t have kids,’ replied Nick, ‘but respect to those who have to deal with someone else’s grief as well as their own.’

When Nick glanced at Faith, she felt compelled to respond. ‘I have a grown-up stepdaughter, but I gave up trying to manage her feelings a long time ago.’

The comment was the perfect segue into the broader topic of difficult relationships, and nearly everyone had a contribution to make. By the time Iain returned to his problems with his in-laws, it felt like the conversation had come full circle and Tara suggested they break up early, leaving time for another coffee and Justine’s untouched muffins.

While Tara was cornered by Jodie, Faith went to join April in the foyer and Nick followed. They chatted for a while, but when the discussion turned to fitness regimes, Faith saw it as the perfect opportunity to leave them to it. She had unfinished business.

Justine was understandably wary when she was pulled to one side, but Faith’s expression was full of concern when she said, ‘These meetings appear so seamless but I was thinking about what you said before about juggling childcare. It made me appreciate the extra effort you’ve taken tonight,’ she said. ‘How are things at home? It must be tough.’

‘Oh, we manage.’

Faith leant forward. ‘Only manage?’

‘Well, let’s just say it’s not easy now that Isla’s graduated to secondary school. Two school runs before work are a daily challenge, I can tell you.’

‘No wonder the strain has been showing,’ Faith said, placing a hand gently on Justine’s arm. ‘You spend so much time supporting the newer members, it’s easy to forget that you need support too. I’m sorry if I was a tad harsh on you in the meeting.’

‘Oh gosh, it’s fine,’ insisted Justine. ‘If you can’t be honest and open in the meeting, where can you?’

‘The same applies to you, remember that,’ Faith said, her tone one of sympathy. ‘You must be worried about Tara. She’s another one with her hands full, and I know she thinks we could carry on without her but how would we fill the void? She’s been dropping hints about me taking over if she leaves. Can you imagine?’

Justine paled. ‘No, not really.’

‘Exactly, but I can’t see you coping on your own either. We need to look after both of you. Don’t suffer alone.’

‘That’s very kind of you, Faith, but I … I’m fine, honestly.’

Through the crowd, Faith spied Nick coming to join them. The timing was perfect. ‘That’s super,’ she said, releasing her grip on Justine’s arm. ‘Here, I’ll leave you two to it.’

She stepped away, but Nick pursued her.

‘I’m heading off,’ he explained, ‘but it was a pleasure meeting you, Faith.’

‘I’ll see you next month then.’

‘You couldn’t keep me away,’ he promised. ‘But I was thinking it might be an idea to set up a WhatsApp group.’

Faith wrinkled her nose. ‘We made a stab at using it at work, but all those pinging messages were so irritating. I muted all the conversations.’

‘I hope you won’t do that to me,’ Nick said, tilting the phone in his hand.

‘I can’t promise,’ Faith said. In the pause that followed, she realised he was waiting to take down her phone number. She reeled it out without thinking.