“Yours always tastes better for some reason. And I love your marmalade. You should start a business.”

They were sitting at the large kitchen table that had originally belonged to her grandmother and bore the scars of generations of family life. So many conversations had taken place here.

Clare ran her finger absently over one of the grooves, wondering who had carved it. “Just because you’re good at something, doesn’t mean you have to turn it into a business. Sometimes you can do something because you enjoy it.”

“I’ve annoyed you.” He leaned in and kissed her. “It was a compliment, not a real suggestion.”

“No, I’m the one being sensitive. It sounded like—”

“—something Becca would say.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I know. The moment I said it, I knew you’d think that. Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you think of her. So how is Jack?”

“He didn’t email you? He was asking about the summer.” Clare stood up and slid another slice of bread into the toaster, pondering on how different men and women were. Jack was Todd’s friend, and yet he was asking her for an update. At one point during their friendship she and Becca had been in touch almost daily, exchanging small details of their lives, sharing feelings and revealing emotions. When Becca had injured her knee and been told she’d never dance again, it was Clare she’d emailed at three in the morning and it was Becca Clare had emailed when Aiden had been born prematurely and had breathing problems. From small irritations to major life heartaches, there had been virtually nothing about their lives that they hadn’t shared.

If someone had asked her at any point how Becca was doing, Clare would have known and yet here was Todd asking her about Jack.

Was it that her relationship with Becca had been particularly close, or was it that male friendship was different? Male friendships tended to be anchored by activities rather than emotions. Todd, who had made several friends since they’d moved from London, contacted them to arrange sailing or hiking. They talked about wind direction or routes and bonded over an appreciation of the locally brewed beer.

Jack and Todd behaved like long-lost friends each summer, although their interaction bore no resemblance to the relationship Clare had with friends. They teased each other, exchanged good-natured insults, and generally kept everything light.

Maybe that type of friendship was less complicated.

Todd finished his toast. “You’re the one who makes all the arrangements. Jack and I just come along and enjoy ourselves. What did the email say? Are they coming to see us?”