‘It’s complicated,’ I say. ‘Just leave it, Marcus.’
‘She cheated on you.’
I wince. ‘She . . .’
‘You know she did. I showed you the fucking photograph, Dylan.’
‘I know you did,’ I snap, before I can stop myself. ‘And have we talked about why you were there? Why you cared so much what she was up to?’
He goes still. After a long moment his hands shift, and he begins to tug at the thin loop of black leather he wears around his wrist, but he doesn’t lift his gaze towards me.
‘I’ve always had your back,’ he says eventually. His voice is quiet.
‘Yes, well. I think that rather went beyond the call of duty, didn’t it?’
Maggie descends with water glasses.
‘Oh, Maggie, you’re an angel. An angel,’ Marcus says, and it’s like the conversation we’ve just had never happened. I once wrote about that, the way that Marcus’s mood would shift lightning-like. A cloud ripped, gone/and the sun’s back/exposed, raw as joy/until the wind blows.
‘Thank you,’ I say, taking the glass of water from Maggie.
She hovers in front of us, all flushed cheeks and sensible shoes, blossoming under Marcus’s gaze. I’m saved from any more flirtation by my phone ringing. I pull it out of the pocket of my shorts: Addie calling.
‘Hey,’ she says. ‘Don’t freak out. But I’m in A&E.’
THEN
Addie
It’s February 14th – a school day, annoyingly, but Dylan and I have Valentine’s Day plans for the evening. All he’ll say is wear warm socks, which has got me totally intrigued. Deb reckons we’re going on a hike. I hope she’s wrong – I’ve been on my feet all day, and am hoping for the sitting-down sort of romantic.
I get a text from Dylan just as I’m leaving the car park.
Don’t panic, Ads, but I’m in A&E. Getting ready for our date （stringing fairy lights for a picnic at Dell Quay! It was going to be beautiful） and fell off a ladder. Just getting a little head scan to make sure I’ve not got something worse than mild concussion （I’m sure I haven’t!） xxx
I stare at the text. Completely frozen.
‘See you tomorrow, Addie!’ Moira calls as she makes her way to her car, and it takes me way too long to answer her. Stood there in the rain next to my car, I imagine what it would be like to lose Dylan. It is awful. Awful. It would be unsurvivable.
I turn up at the A&E as fast as is legally possible. A bit faster on the stretches of the motorway where I know there aren’t any speed cameras.
Marcus and I get to the doors of the emergency department at the same moment. At first I don’t realise it’s him. I’ve not seen him since France – a weirdly long time not to see your boyfriend’s best mate, but Dylan’s always had an excuse ready for him, and frankly I’ve not minded that he’s clearly avoiding me.
We pause just inside the doors, in front of the reception desk. He turns to me slowly. Like he’s dreading meeting my gaze, maybe. Or savouring it.
He looks just the same. A scribble of dark curls, sharp cheekbones, clever, intense eyes. ‘Addie,’ he says.
‘Hello,’ I say.
A nurse moves past us, his trainers squeaking on the floor. Someone’s talking to the receptionist. We’re still not saying anything. I just don’t know what to say.
Marcus smiles slightly as he takes me in. ‘You’ve changed,’ he says, tilting his head slightly.
‘My hair,’ I say, lifting a hand to touch it. It’s curled today – I wanted to look nice for my date with Dylan.
‘No,’ he says, and he’s looking at me in that way he did in France. Steady and unapologetic. ‘I mean, you’re tougher.’
‘What?’
I’m so over his I-can-read-people thing. He clearly hasn’t changed a bit. He smiles slightly at my irritation but doesn’t answer, just keeps looking at me. I press my cold hand to my cheek to cool it down.
‘You’re here for Dylan?’ I say.
‘Of course. And you?’
‘Obviously.’
We stand for another moment. Marcus’s eyes are still moving over me, assessing.
‘He hasn’t settled,’ I say abruptly.
‘Hmm?’
‘You said he’d settle down. He hasn’t. He still doesn’t know what he wants to do, and . . . he still gets sad, sometimes.’
Dylan thinks I don’t notice. We never talk about it. But I know him well enough to tell when he goes inward and gets lost.