The Birthday Weekend - Lesley Sanderson Page 0,3

and I hit it off straight away, so I hope it works out.’

‘Good for her.’

‘You know what this means, though?’ I look at him directly, struck as I always am by how much I love him, wishing I could be sure he felt the same way, hating the niggling doubt that won’t quite go no matter how many times we’ve seen the relationship counsellor.

‘No, what?’ He gathers the plates together and takes them over to the sink, raising his voice as he turns the hot tap on full.

‘Daisy.’

‘Ah, yes. You haven’t seen her since that evening, have you? How long ago is it now?’

‘Six months. I’ve been meaning to ring her but kept putting it off. This invite is deliberate on Amy’s part. The four of us were a really tight group at university and she wants us all back together like we used to be. I can understand why, given what a tough year she’s had.’

‘Give Daisy a ring. I’m sure she’s been meaning to ring you too. And she’ll have had her invitation, so it will no doubt be on her mind. I bet she’ll be happy to hear from you.’

‘When did you get so wise?’ Our eyes meet and I look away, wishing my tongue didn’t run away with me. We’ve spent the last nine months in counselling, and Theo has become very good at articulating his emotions in front of the therapist – too good at times.

‘You’re right,’ I say. ‘I’ll give her a ring. We need to sort it out before the party, to make sure we’re cool with each other before we get there. For Amy’s sake, if nothing else.’

‘I guess it’s possible she won’t go,’ he says, plunging his hands into the sink, then quickly jumping backwards. ‘Ouch. Jeez, that’s hot.’

The suggestion floats through my mind, a lifeline. Daisy might say no and Kat will be busy; Amy will cancel and the weekend won’t happen, we won’t need to go back to Blackwood and confront the ghost that awaits us.

If only.

Chapter Two

‘Do you fancy watching another episode of that drama this evening?’ Theo scrolls through the TV guide, legs stretched in front of him. He used to stretch them across my lap not so long ago. Baby steps.

‘Can we save it for tomorrow? I’d rather phone Amy, talk about the birthday.’

‘I’m out with work tomorrow night; it’s Billy’s leaving do. Drinks then a curry. You’re welcome to join us if you like.’

‘Yeah, I might.’ Whenever Theo mentions work, flashing lights go off in my head. But he wouldn’t have asked me before and I appreciate that he’s making an effort. He’s told me the woman he had an affair with has left the company, and I believe him. I have to.

I take my phone into the bedroom.

Amy picks up straight away. ‘I knew you’d call,’ she says. ‘What do you think?’

‘The party on the Saturday, is that just us lot, or are you inviting all your friends? Is it a proper party, that’s what I mean.’

‘No, just us. You haven’t read the invitation correctly. Can you see the word party? It’s more of a gathering, a select few of my old friends.’

‘Are you sure? It’s your thirty-fifth, Amy, and you’ve just been given the all-clear. I thought you’d be having a Kate Moss-style blowout lasting at least a week.’

‘You’ve not been on social media lately, have you? You need to keep up. Kate’s calmed down a lot in recent years, and so have I. Everything feels different now. I still can’t believe the past year isn’t a dream.’

‘I wish it was, Ames, you don’t know how much.’

I was the first person Amy told about the lump she’d found – smaller than a pea, most likely nothing – and I was the one who accompanied her to the hospital when she was asked to come in to discuss the results of her tests, who held her hand and asked all the questions Amy was too shocked to ask. But work meant I couldn’t be there every time she went for a round of chemotherapy, and her vast support network stepped in. Just over twelve months later, she is in remission and her life has changed. She stepped down from her post as head of English at a secondary school and now teaches part-time only, spending her spare time training to be a yoga teacher.

‘I don’t,’ Amy says. ‘My priorities have changed, and I know what’s important.’

Hence the toned-down celebration. ‘Are you sure? Never mind