‘Yes, the manager told me that too. It’s amazing that the pub and church stayed standing,’ said Michael, as Stuart came over to join us. I took a deep breath to steady myself. Michael, Stuart. Two men I’d loved in different ways: Michael in the past, Stuart in secret. It was overwhelming to be in such close proximity to both of them and confusing to see them both looking at me. I glanced from face to face, two sets of eyes, trying to see if I felt anything beyond just recognizing them as Stuart and Michael. Was there anything else there?

‘You OK, Bea?’ asked Michael. ‘You’re looking a bit strange.’

I coughed and looked over his shoulder. ‘Oh yes. Fine thanks.’

‘I hear that you and Bea already know each other,’ said Stuart.

‘We do,’ said Michael. ‘And you?’

‘Old friends for years,’ said Stuart. ‘How did you both know each other?’

Michael looked at me fondly and put his arm around my shoulder. ‘We were much more than old friends. We used to live together in our early twenties.’

I glanced up at Stuart’s face and noticed the briefest look of … what was it? Jealousy? Anger? His protective nature? Whichever, he pushed it away fast and smiled.

‘How lovely that you’ve met up again,’ he said. ‘Lots to talk about, no doubt. When are you returning to Thailand?’

Subtle, I thought, and tried not to laugh.

‘Oh, not for a while,’ Michael replied. ‘I’m trying to persuade Bea to join me on an extended holiday, maybe in Europe.’

There was a flash of annoyance on Stuart’s face again, quickly disguised. ‘You are? Europe? And will you be going, Bea?’

Was I imagining that he was jealous? Or was it wishful thinking? I asked myself as I looked at him then at Michael. ‘I think you know my situation better than anyone, Stuart. I have no idea what I’ll be doing.’

This time, it was Michael who looked jealous. ‘How exactly do you know Bea?’ he asked.

‘Oh, as well as being good friends, I’ve also been her accountant all that time.’

‘Ah,’ said Michael. ‘An accountant.’ He said it in a disdainful way.

Stuart ignored the insult and leant over to look at the photos on the wall behind us. ‘These are fascinating, aren’t they? Appears that this pub hasn’t changed much, but it looks as if the rest of the street has. Good that they have these old photos as a record of how it once was.’

I pointed at one that showed the row of houses that had taken the hit from the bomb. ‘Yes, especially as that side was destroyed. Can you imagine what it must have been like to live there and find that your house, your home, had gone.’

Stuart stared at the photos. ‘That’s if you survived the war. I’d imagine a lot of people didn’t. Awful, heartbreaking.’