‘Ooo! Interesting. Did you get the gossip? Is the wedding no longer happening?’

‘Bea, that is terrible!’ She takes another bite. ‘But no. Apparently the bride’s father is now making the cake.’

‘Well, more fool them. This is delicious.’

I take yet another bite, despite the fact I now feel quite ill.

Tilly frowns and gestures towards my fork. ‘I’ve only ever seen you eat like this when you’re anxious. What’s up? Are you stressed about my wedding too?’

I swallow my mouthful. ‘No, no, no.’

‘If it’s not the wedding, then what is it?’

Tilly doesn’t know Peter, so she would be a good person to talk to, but she’s currently so in love with being in love that I worry her advice won’t be subjective.

‘Honestly, nothing. There is nothing making me anxious.’

‘I don’t believe you.’

‘Really.’ I cross my heart with the fork and fling crumbs everywhere. ‘I swear.’

Tilly takes a sharp inhale of breath and I know she isn’t done with her interrogation.

Luckily the cake lady comes back with her diary and a pen. ‘OK, where were we?’

My phone alarm goes off and I jump, even though I was the one to set it.

‘Sorry.’ I turn it off and look sheepish. I have another session with the assistants that I don’t want to be late for. ‘I need to go.’ And not a moment too soon. Tilly still does not look appeased by my answers. ‘I don’t suppose you have a box for the rest of this cake …?’ I gesture at the leftovers and see Tilly look at me with slight disbelief.

CHAPTER 30

By the time reUNIon day rolls around, I am fully practised in the art of distraction. My flat has never been so clean. My wardrobe has been reorganized so it’s now colour coordinated. I can do a fishtail braid in my hair. I’ve made so many cards that I’ve almost completed my store Christmas orders already, and it’s only just October. I’ve also been actively not fancying Peter. Actively not fancying Peter has made me very productive.

If I stop fancying Peter, I’ll stop feeling so confused, and I’ll feel better about him moving to Australia – I’ll only be sad as a friend.

Unfortunately, my brain didn’t quite get the memo and chose Wednesday as the night to have another Peter dream. It was one of those dreams that seemed very real – no walking dolphins in sight. We were an item, and it all felt natural and familiar; it was even more disturbing than the sex dream.

Even my phone is mocking me. He’s always in my ‘frequent contacts’, no matter how many other people I message, and even though Tilly has knocked him down a spot due to all of the wedding-related messages. Today’s drama was about the florist. I had to spend about an hour in the stationery cupboard talking to someone about the availability of dahlias.

Almost as though he knows I’m watching my phone, a message from him pings through.