As soon as Emilia and Louise got talking they realized they were mutually fascinated by each other’s jobs and spent the whole morning ignoring everyone else. Emilia had liked Louise so much she’d suggested they go for a drink, and, over the two years they’ve been friends, they try to meet up for dinner when Louise’s shifts allow, usually once every few months. Emilia had always found it easy to make friends. She tries to be warm, open and sociable （the opposite of her parents）， but what had happened with Kristin had shaken her and she is now more wary, preferring to meet up with Louise alone. Even Elliot hasn’t met her, although that’s mainly because, as a single woman, Louise would rather it was just the two of them. Emilia understands that. After she and Jonas had split up she hadn’t wanted to socialize with couples, and Louise’s ex, Mike, sounds like a nightmare who – according to Louise – shirks his childcare responsibilities by loading them onto his overbearing mother.
Emilia is still thinking of Louise when she notices a familiar figure coming out of the little French restaurant just off the green. It’s Jonas, looking dapper in a long camel coat over a business suit. He’s with a very attractive brunette who is at least ten years his junior. She’s wearing a figure-hugging dress and heels so high Emilia is surprised she can walk in them. Emilia stops in the shadow of a shop, her heart speeding up. She’s never bumped into her ex-husband in Richmond before – his office is in Moorgate – but she’s spotted Kristin once or twice and pretended she hadn’t. Now she doesn’t know what to do, how to act.
She can hear the brunette’s laughter, as tinkly and clear as a fork against glass, and watches, mesmerized, as the woman weaves an arm through his and leans in to him. It’s an intimate gesture, and, despite everything, she experiences a pang of pity for Kristin: if this isn’t an affair it’s obviously more than friendship. She watches as they stop at the corner and he leans down to kiss her cheek, then stands back and thrusts his hands into his pockets. The woman laughs again, reaches out and tenderly strokes the side of his face before walking away. Jonas stands for a few seconds staring after her until she’s rounded a corner and is out of sight. Emilia decides to step out of the shadows just as Jonas is crossing the road and, as their eyes meet, she’s satisfied to see a flush spread up his neck to his face.
‘Hi,’ she says, as he crosses over. ‘Who was that?’
‘Ah, just a … er … client,’ he says, looking at his feet.
‘She’s very beautiful.’
His head shoots up and she sees it. The guilt in his eyes.
‘Oh, Jonas.’
The guilt has gone, his expression now closed, defensive. ‘What?’
‘I’m no fan of Kristin but I thought you loved her.’
‘I do.’
‘You’re buying a house together.’
He shuffles his feet. ‘Listen.’ He takes her arm and steers her out of the path of office workers heading towards the green. He lowers his voice. ‘Please don’t tell anyone about this. Nothing is going on. It’s just a bit of flirty banter, that’s all.’
‘That was how it started with Kristin. Have you ever cheated on her?’
‘Of course not.’
Emilia had always thought he’d been faithful to her until he ran off with Kristin. She’d thought it was Kristin’s charm, her magic, that had ensnared him, turned him. But now she wonders if Kristin wasn’t the first. Having the love of one gorgeous woman is obviously not enough for him. She thinks of Elliot in his home office, poring over drawings of cereal packets, and is so grateful she wants to cry. She’s known it deep down for years, of course, but Jonas did her a favour. If it hadn’t been Kristin it would have been someone else.
‘I just … I just get bored,’ he says, so quietly she can barely hear him. He looks at her imploringly. ‘I don’t mean to hurt anyone.’
She stares at him in shock at his rare moment of honesty. And she briefly glimpses the boy she’d first met as a fresher nearly twenty years ago. In a flash she remembers how she’d felt when he’d asked her out. Her, Emilia Ward, who had never felt as loved, as special, as attractive as anyone else. And she’d been so desperate for love, for affection that she’d ignored the red flags: the late nights, the flirty ‘banter’ with every attractive female. Ottilie had said she didn’t quite trust him but Emilia had refused to listen. She’d been infatuated.
She sighs. ‘But you do hurt people. You hurt me and now you’re going to do the same to Kristin. Why bother getting married if you feel that way? And the thing is …’ she bites back her anger ‘… not only did you hurt me by cheating on me, but you ruined a friendship.’
‘I’m sorry, I really am. If I could take it all back …’
He looks lost standing there, the tip of his nose red with cold, and despite it all, she feels sympathy for him. Maybe she can talk some sense into him. Stop him doing to Kristin what he did to her. It starts to rain and she makes a split-second decision.
‘Have you got time for a coffee?’ she finds herself asking.
They spend nearly an hour holed up in a little café, which smells of wet umbrellas and coffee, where they have, for the first time in years, an honest conversation. He tells her how frustrated he is with Kristin and her constant career-changes, how she’s not bringing in enough money, and she’s demanding. ‘I’m happy in the Twickenham house, you know. It was affordable and now we’re going to be stretching ourselves.’
Emilia sips her cappuccino while he talks. ‘I can understand why she wouldn’t want to live in another woman’s house.’
‘You haven’t lived in it for ten years. It’s hardly another woman’s house any more.’
‘You know what I mean. We chose it together. Listen, you need to be totally honest with her. Like Elliot and I are with each other.’
‘Really?’ He raises an eyebrow. ‘So you’ll tell him you had coffee with your ex-husband?’
‘Of course. Why wouldn’t I? I have nothing to hide.’
He stares at her for a while, then shakes his head slowly. ‘You’re a good person, Em. And I’m sorry for the way I treated you, I really am.’
She blushes and tells him it’s all water under the bridge now.
He pushes away his half-drunk Americano. ‘So when am I going to get to read your book? Surely there must be some perks to being the ex-husband of a crime writer.’
She knows Elliot thinks it strange that she allows Jonas to read early copies of her books, but he’s always been supportive of her writing, even after they split up. And, despite her faults, so has Kristin. ‘Once I’ve done the edits I’ll email it over to you.’ She drains the remnants of her cappuccino.
‘Great. I can’t wait to see how you kill off Miranda.’
They chat some more, then Jonas leaves to go back to the office. After Emilia has bought Wilfie his school shirts she heads back up the hill thinking of Jonas and their conversation. The handle of the plastic bag cuts into her wrist and she’s grateful when she reaches her house.