She hadn’t only divorced Cliff, she’d divorced that side of her life that ate lobster ravioli.

“Maybe you should stay with a friend for a while.” Nessa stabbed at some crumbs with her fingertip. “I mean, just until things calm down.”

Friends?

Since the news had broken, two “friends” had messaged her to cancel arrangements for lunch the following week.

She’d had a wide circle of acquaintances when she was married to Cliff. People she’d meet socially, people she ate lunch with, and drank wine with and shopped with, but she’d mostly distanced herself when she’d ended her marriage. Were they really friends? A friend should be someone who cared about you, who you trusted, and she didn’t have anyone in her life who fitted that description.

She felt an urge to test her theory.

Picking up her phone, she scrolled through her contacts and called Heather, who was probably the person she saw most frequently. Heather ran the communications company that Cliff had used on occasion for various campaigns, which was how they’d met. Cliff had put a lot of business her way. Since then she and Heather had played tennis regularly. Three times a week, slamming a ball across a net. Three times a week of forehands, backhands and polite conversation. Three times a week of wondering if this was really how she wanted to spend her time.

Heather answered immediately. “Joanna! I’ve been so worried about you. If there’s anything you need... I’ve been meaning to call.”

But she hadn’t called.

“Hi, Heather—”

“I was sorry to hear about Cliff.” The woman’s voice tailed off, as if she wasn’t sure whether she was supposed to be sorry or not. “What exactly happened, do you know?”

Was she supposed to be clairvoyant? “I have no idea.”

“Who is that young woman? They say she’s alive, so surely she must have spoken to someone by now? Was it a one-night thing do you think? One wonders if she was—” Heather lowered her voice. “Do you think he paid her?”

“I know nothing about her, or her relationship with Cliff. We’re divorced, Heather.” Why did she need to remind people of that fact?

“But you were married to him for two decades—I mean, you deserve a medal frankly—and you knew him better than anyone. It must be hard on you.”

“The hardest part right now is that the press has surrounded my house and don’t seem in a hurry to leave.” And friends who asked the same questions as journalists. Friends who talked to journalists.

A source close to Joanna said...

“Is that so surprising? This is juicy,” Heather said, “and it’s a little light relief from all the bad news out there. People would rather read about Cliff’s colorful sex life than read serious stuff. Not me, of course,” she added hastily. “I barely read any of that.”