‘You okay?’ Trip asked over her shoulder as they ascended the stairs.

  ‘Of course, why?’

  ‘You’re following me to the toilet,’ she replied with a chuckle.

  ‘No I’m not.’

  Trip stopped on the landing, so abruptly that Ashley nearly toppled into her. ‘Spill.’

  Ashley fiddled with the tie on her dress as heat crept across her cheeks. ‘Is Dani mad?’

  Trip’s face thawed to one of understanding. ‘I think “shocked” is the appropriate word.’

  Ashley nodded slowly while worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. ‘Where is she now?’

  ‘To be honest, I was hoping to find her on the way to the loo. She just kind of ran off.’

  ‘Shit.’

  ‘Yeah. Kirsty said to give her space.’

  Her tongue was out of action again, words firmly clogged in her throat. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Dani.

  Trip offered a half-smile of reassurance. ‘She’ll be grand. Just give her time.’

  ‘It’s what she does now that worries me. No idea where she went?’

  Trip shook her head. ‘Look, I might actually pee while I’m here. The queue’s massive downstairs.’ She nipped into Mum and Dad’s room.

  Ashley leaned against the top bannister and looked to the floor below. The occasional guest wandered by, the tops of their heads the only clue to their identity. Where would Dani go?

  She’d moved out long ago and Ashley’s bedroom was now a glorified office, but it still had a sofa bed in the corner. It was as good a bet as any.

  She hovered her knuckles over the door, her other hand on the handle, poised to enter. This was her room: why knock? Still, it felt wrong to barge in. Ashley opened the door slowly.

  Sure enough, Dani was slumped on the sofa, an open bottle of wine in her hand. She jumped into action at the sight of Ashley, pawing at her eyes as if she’d be crying.

  ‘You okay?’ Ashley asked, uncertainty lacing her words.

  Dani avoided eye contact, choosing to focus on the bottle instead. ‘Me? Yeah, golden. Why?’

  ‘Just wondering.’ Ashley sat on the springy sofa. She’d never liked it. Far too soft.

  She chanced a look at Dani. She’d definitely been crying.

  ‘Congratulations, oh my God, sorry, that should have been the first thing I said to you,’ Dani rambled, her bottom lip wobbling slightly as she spoke. In a flash, the bottle was on the ground and Ashley was held in a bearlike hug.

  ‘How come you’re up here?’ Ashley asked, still holding onto Dani like they were lost at sea.

  She felt Dani swallow against her shoulder.

  ‘It was really busy downstairs. Just needed a moment by myself.’ She sniffed and held Ashley a little tighter.

  Dani wasn’t a crier. With the exception of her father passing, it just wasn’t in Dani’s repertoire. She was a closed book. Even after all these years, Ashley still struggled to read her.

  ‘These are happy tears,’ Dani said with a forced chuckle.

  Closed book or not, Ashley saw through that one like glass.

  It was better to play along though. ‘I know. Can you believe it?’ Ashley released her grip, hoping Dani would too so she could look her in the eye.

  Eventually, she leaned back, revealing tear-stained cheeks. She instantly pawed at them, getting rid of the evidence. ‘I’m proper chuffed for you, Ash.’

  Ashley snagged her gaze and held it as tightly as they’d hugged. ‘I should have told you before I announced it like that. Sorry.’

  Dani nodded, her attention back on the wine bottle she was turning between her hands. ‘A heads-up would have been nice.’ She paused, turning something over, as if debating to add the thought or not. ‘I’ll miss you.’

  Ashley cut short the snort of laughter that escaped. ‘Where am I going?’

  Dani took a long, ragged breath. ‘Marriage is massive. You know what I mean.’

  She did. And the thought of it hurt like hell, but she’d come to terms with her unrequited feelings, shaping them into something new and moving on. A few years ago, the thought of not seeing Dani would have near killed her. Now, it only stung a little: they would change and adapt. Getting married and starting a family didn’t mean you ditched your friends completely.

  Dani look a long slug of wine, gulping the booze down as she winced.

  ‘Since when did you drink wine?’ Ashley asked with a smile, hoping to lighten the mood an ounce.

  ‘A lot’s changed recently. Maybe you were too busy to notice.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘That came out wrong.’

  ‘It sure did.’

  Dani held the bottle in the space between them like a peace offering. ‘It’s stinking, but you’re welcome to have some.’

  ‘Excuse me.’ Ashley chuckled. ‘That’s one of Mum’s classic reserves. It’s not the wine’s fault your taste is awful.’

  Dani grabbed at Ashley’s waist with her free hand, making her break out in giggles. ‘No, no, stop!’

  That only made her go harder.

  Ashley was soon breathless, huddled over as Dani tickled her senseless.

  ‘Ash?’

  Hazel’s distant voice made them both freeze. With a gentle cough, Ashley straightened herself. Her heart pounded. Not just from the tickles, but also from the sinking feeling she’d been caught doing something bad.

  ‘In here,’ she called, smoothing her dress out. Dani took another gulp of wine, her face stoic.

  It wasn’t long before Hazel poked her head round the door. Her warm smile melted Ashley’s heart. ‘There you are. Your mum wants to do a champagne toast.’

  3

  Dani reached across Kirsty to grab the soya milk, intent on finishing off the latte she was making.

  The best thing about working in the family café was that there were no social expectations. She always brought her A game when it came to customer service but there was no forced conversation, no polite chit-chat with co-workers. Kirsty knew when to give her space and it was never awkward.

  Nearly a week had passed since Ashley’s announcement, and so far the only thing to shave off a slither of pain was her therapy session yesterday.

  She’d started seeing Jenny not long after The Kiss (as she’d now come to refer to it in sessions). She was sceptical at first, but it was slowly changing her life for the better. A year on, she felt like a new woman. It was as if she’d carried around an impossibly heavy backpack since Dad died and every week Jenny removed an item. Sometimes it was small. Sometimes it was huge. Whatever the breakthrough, they all added up.

  Drunkenly kissing Ashley in Ibiza had been the wake-up call she needed. She’d been thirty-three. It felt like a lifetime ago now. They were just seventeen the first time around. Now that really was a lifetime. Sixteen years between kisses and Ashley still did things to her insides that should be illegal. She either sorted her life out or it was game over. Ashley deserved her to be the best version of herself. Dani couldn’t be that with the tricks her brain was playing on her.

  ‘You good?’ Kirsty asked, her eyes on Dani’s coffee. ‘You’ve been doing that fern for ages. You’ll have more foam than coffee soon.’

  She was right. Shit. ‘Just thinking.’

  Kirsty didn’t push it. ‘Do you want to pick up table nine’s order, or will I?’

  ‘What is it?’ Kirsty didn’t usually ask. They just cracked on with it.

  ‘Four lattes, a mocha, one double espresso, a cap, and a flat white.’

  Now it made sense: that was a lot. ‘Business meeting?’

  ‘Think so. Will we split it? You do the lattes and the espresso? I’ll do the rest.’

  ‘Deal.’

  Dani had worked in Café Odyssey since leaving school and it was as much her home as the flat she and Kirsty owned together. With Mum in charge and nearly every other staff member family, it was a finely tuned machine, perfected over generations. There’d been a moment when it looked like Kirsty would go to university and do her own thing, but after Dad passed away she’d joined the ranks. Dani thanked her lucky stars for that every day. There was no one else she could imagine working with. Never mind living with.

  Which reminded her: ‘Is Rhona home tonight?’ It was Dani’s turn to make tea.

  ‘Nah, she’s in Brussels until tomorrow, remember?’

  Dani nodded slowly, pushing the espresso button on the machine. She’d not been the best at retaining info this week. ‘Aw, yeah. Sorry.’

  Kirsty offered a small smile, silently telling her not to worry about it. ‘I’ll be glad when wedding season is over. It’s been weird having her away so much.’

  ‘Do you think she’ll—’ The words caught in Dani’s throat. She coughed quietly, hoping that looked like the reason for her pause, not the fact the end of this sentence made her want to rip her own skin off. ‘Do you think she’ll do Ashley’s wedding?’

  Rhona was a high-end wedding photographer. Her prices might be a little out of Ashley’s budget, but mates rates were a thing, yeah?

  Kirsty wiggled her head, internal debate clear. ‘Hazel already asked her at the party. Rhona said yes.’

  Why did Kirsty’s tone suggest that was some sort of betrayal? It was Rhona’s choice who she had as clients; Dani didn’t hold it against her. Maybe they needed to have a chat. Now wasn’t the time or the place, though.

  ‘That’s amazing. I’m glad she could do it.’ A realisation hit Dani square between the eyes. ‘So, they have a date already?’

  Kirsty put her finished flat white on the serving tray. ‘Roughly, or at least that’s what Hazel told Rhona. They want to aim for next August. Anniversaries and stuff. I guess it makes sense.’

  That felt like no time. A measly year. Three hundred and sixty-five days. Although, maybe it would be better if it was even sooner. Rip the band-aid off in a swift motion, get it done with.

  Kirsty’s hand stilled over her uncompleted cappuccino before she placed the milk jug back on the counter. She took a deep breath. ‘I’m only going to say this once, because I know you’ll play it off, but listen to me, yeah?’ She waited for Dani to nod. ‘If any of this ever feels too much or whatever. Just say. I get it. We don’t need to say a word. No questions. No discussion. You don’t need to go to this wedding.’ She picked up the jug and carried on with the cappuccino like she’d not said a word.

  ‘Thank you,’ Dani mumbled, finishing her first latte. It was appreciated, but Kirsty was right: she was more likely to play this whole thing off. Push it under the carpet. Only Kirsty, Rhona, and Trip had an inkling of how much this was killing her. They didn’t know the half of it, though. Something told Dani that Jenny would be seeing a heck lot more of her in the coming months.

  The bell over the café door jingled and a familiar voice filled the bar area. Trip.

  ‘Ladies, how are we today?’

  Kirsty’s face creased with amusement. ‘Since when do you call in at this time of day?’

  Trip was an English teacher at the local secondary school. Seeing her during the week was as rare as a dairy-free mocha. It just didn’t happen.

  ‘Emergency dentist appointment. Crown fell off,’ Trip informed her, pointing at her jaw. ‘No point going back for thirty minutes.’

  ‘Can you drink after something like that?’ Dani asked.

  ‘What? Booze?’

  Dani chuckled. ‘Always a one-track mind with you. No, doofus. You’re here. I’m guessing you want a coffee?’

  Trip’s eyes brightened as she clicked, a lopsided smile pulling at her lips. ‘Ah, gotcha. No, not really. Well, maybe. But I’d probably dribble. I actually wanted to see you.’

  ‘Me?’ Dani asked, pointing to her chest and looking at Kirsty.

  ‘You, yeah.’

  Ominous. ‘What have I done?’

  Trip laughed quietly and leaned on the counter, eying up the scones under a glass dome. ‘They look good. Raspberry and white choc – can I get one? I’ll pay, obviously.’

  Dani put her hands on her hips. ‘Trip.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Why you here?’ Her tone left no room for confusion; she didn’t have time for dallying.

  Trip sucked her lips in, pulling a face like she’d been scolded by a parent. ‘Sorry. It’s about Ashley.’

  Dani groaned, unable to stop her eyes from rolling.

  ‘Now, now,’ Trip continued. ‘She’s desperate to talk to you but doesn’t know how.’

  ‘Huh?’ She had been strangely quiet on the text front this week, but Dani figured she was just giving her space or busy with wedding stuff.

  Trip shrugged. ‘Just reach out to her, yeah? Something’s bothering her.’ Ashley worked in the office of Trip’s school; it shouldn’t have been a surprise she was getting her to do ground work.

  A wave of ice travelled down Dani’s spine. Ashley wasn’t going to warn her off the wedding, was she? Given their history, it would make sense. What else could be bothering her?

  * * *

  ‘Have you texted her yet?’ Kirsty asked, slumping into the armchair with a beer. They’d been to the pub a lot recently. They’d agreed to stay in tonight, only to cave and pick up beers on the way home. At least they’d saved some dosh. Plus, this way they got to enjoy them in joggers without the prying judgement of Kim and Travis, working the bar.

  ‘Not yet. I don’t know what to say. Why hasn’t she just texted me?’

  ‘Same problem, probably. She doesn’t know how to start it.’

  ‘It would be so much easier if Trip had said we could mention her.’

  ‘But she didn’t. So, buck up and get on with it.’

  Dani sighed. The reason for Ashley’s sudden need to see her was weighing on her mind. More so because a new solution had popped into her head this afternoon, and given the chance to run with it, her brain wasn’t for dropping it any time soon.

  It was ridiculous.

  Even thinking it made her feel odd.

  But it was there, a beacon in her mind, calling her closer, wishing her to believe it could be true.

  Perhaps Ashley was finally going to declare her feelings, give Hazel the heave-ho.

  She just needed to chat to Dani first, make sure they were on the same page. They’d been through so much together: was Ashley really ready to commit to someone other than Dani?

  ‘You’ve still not sent it, have you?’ Kirsty asked, peering over the gap between the chair and sofa.

  Dani scrunched her face up. ‘What would you say?’

  ‘I thought you guys texted every day? Just throw an “everything alright with you?” into the convo.’

  ‘We used to,’ Dani replied, with a defeated sigh. ‘Not so much these days.’ Conversation had endured a slow decline since Hazel had appeared, but the first day Dani didn’t hear from Ashley at all had stung like a motherfucker. Like everything, she got used to it over time. Didn’t stop her heart skipping when Ashley’s name flashed up on her lock screen.

  God, this was worse than starting a conversation on Tinder. She’d only used that for casual hook-ups; words were easy when you could get straight to the point. Even then, she’d deleted that app more than a year ago. Talk about being out of practice.

  Dani typed Had a good day? into the message box.

  Nope.

  She shook her head, backspacing the words away. You okay?

  Nah.

  Was there anything funny she could share? No images sprung to mind. Even their shared jokes were few and far between. She could feel Kirsty’s glare boring through her, so she stabbed How’s the wedding planning going? into the box and hit send.

  ‘Talk about indecisive,’ Kirsty teased with a breathy chuckle.

  Dani didn’t have the heart to rise to the bait. She chucked her phone on the couch and grabbed her beer off the table.

  Chet the cat eyed her with malice for moving too much. He’d grown loads since Dani got him. She’d never intended him to be a replacement for Ashley, but the handsome grey tabby was now her best friend. Not that she would utter something so embarrassingly sad out loud.

  Her phone buzzed and Chet stretched his legs out with a shake before getting comfy again.

  Ashley. Not really started, haha. Free for a drink tomorrow?

  Time to find out what this was all about. Dani’s stomach flipped.

  4

  Ashley fiddled with the menu in the centre of the table, repositioning it for the thousandth time. Dani was late. Not by much, but enough to heighten Ashley’s nerves. She’d already rearranged the sauces twice.

  They’d agreed to meet in The Stables, a quiet, unassuming pub in the middle of Shawlands. It seemed as neutral a ground as anywhere, well, without leaving their Glasgow suburb and heading west or to the city centre. If she’d suggested that, Dani would have definitely known this was more than just a social gathering.

  Ashley took in her surroundings, intent on not touching the sauce for a third time. The barbecue bottle was suspiciously sticky.

  In her haste to meet Dani she’d clean forgotten that Lovefest, the suburb’s annual love festival, was on, so the pub was busier than usual. Packed, in fact. It was a Saturday, yeah, but it was standing room only now. She’d been lucky to get a table. She felt bad for nursing the same glass of wine for the last thirty minutes.

  There was no way she could have just met Dani at their agreed time and launched into things, though. She needed time to adjust, time to let her nerves settle.

  Her eyes traced the toy train track circling the room, suspended a few feet below the ceiling, running the length of the mahogany bar and passing over the patrons’ tables. Years ago the toy train would chug around non-stop, but it was now parked at the station above the large flat-screen TV. Forever marooned until someone deemed it important enough to fix. Rumour had it that the train had taken a bend a little too fast, launching itself into some unsuspecting bloke’s vindaloo, taking his pint out and breaking a wheel in the process. Now that would have been a sight to see.

  She sipped her wine. It was like drinking milk straight after orange juice. Every drop sat heavy in her stomach.

 

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