Pete claims he never stopped loving me, but why did he leave? Why was a job in Sydney so appealing he was able to take off without a backwards glance? And why, oh why am I allowing this man back into my life?

25

“Trish!” Emma walks out of her café kitchen and spies me hovering by the coffee machine.

She envelops me in a hug and I feel our stomachs press together.

“Come and sit down. I’ve just pulled a plum cake out of the oven and there’s a piece with your name on it.” She leads me over to the table by the window. “I’ve got a couple more things to sort and then I’ll come join you. Do you want a drink?”

“I’m good,” I say, surreptitiously slipping off my shoes under the table. “Take your time, Em. I’ve got a work email I need to deal with anyway.”

Emma dashes back into the kitchen and I take a moment to survey the café. It’s almost 3 p.m. on a Saturday, but there are still a couple of groups tucking into a late lunch. My mouth starts to salivate as I watch an elderly man take a big bite of his bacon and egg pie. I’ve only eaten an apple, cheese and crackers, and a packet of crisps since breakfast. Not that I’m going to tell Emma I’m starving – she’ll be sure to give me a lecture about the importance of eating well. I hope she’s not too long bringing out the cake.

Emma places a plate of deliciousness on the table ten minutes later, and flops down beside me.

“Man, it’s been busy.”

“Who’s that?” I mumble, my mouth already full of cake.

I dip my head towards a tiny olive-skinned girl with short black hair, black jeans, a tight-fitting tie-dyed top and about twenty bits of jewellery piercing various parts of her face.

“Oh, that’s Mia. What a godsend. She’s here from Italy on a working holiday visa and saw the ad I put in the window.”

“How is she at making coffee?”

Emma has been complaining about how hard it is to find a decent barista for weeks. Plus, I’m angling for a good decaf.

“Amazing.” Emma waves Mia over. “Mia, this is my friend, Trish. I’m sure she wouldn’t say no to a decaf flat white.”

“You read my mind. Thank you, Mia.”

“So the others have bailed on us,” Emma says as Mia heads towards the coffee machine.

“Oh no.”

“Mags forgot it was her and Phoebe’s three-month anniversary and they’re going to some swanky restaurant to celebrate, and Lily’s going on a last-minute weekend away with Darryl. He booked them into a posh hotel with a private spa pool on the balcony.”

“Lucky her. We could have cancelled.”