Her hand found my knee, squeezed, almost a touch too hard. ‘Let’s not talk about it anymore, okay? Let’s just try and go back to normal. We care about you, Lucy, we really do. Have dinner with us. We can even go somewhere nice. Screw Sam, we can even go somewhere public. There’s a place just down the road in Kingston that’s having a grand opening tonight. It’s only fifteen minutes away, but hey, at least it’s a different town. It could be our treat.’

‘You don’t have to do that.’

‘I want to,’ she said. ‘Please.’

I hesitated, questions dancing in my mind. Questions I could tell she didn’t want to answer. But did the details even matter right now? I had skeletons, too, plenty of them. We were linked, the three of us, by our torrid backstories. There was a reason we’d met, and I knew it maybe better than they did. They were the best thing that had ever happened to me, and I understood, deep down, that they were good. Our friendship couldn’t just end, half-cocked plan or not. ‘Okay.’

Vera stood up, brushing off Dusty’s fur. ‘Forget we said anything about this. I’ll see you tonight.’

I nodded, but I knew as well as she did that I wouldn’t forget. I couldn’t.

The restaurant was dark, accented in rich wood and painted a shade of burgundy, like a scene out of The Maltese Falcon.

The waitress led us to a booth in the corner, John and Vera piling into one side, me on the other. I hadn’t seen John in days, and I noticed the changes in him like a lover would. His eyes were puffy, as if he hadn’t been sleeping well. His beard was unkempt, needing a trim.

I glanced around, wondering if the gossip mill extended beyond the confines of Woodstock. My eyes caught a woman across the restaurant, her head turned toward us, her eyes fixed on John. Christ, I thought. Maybe it really was that bad.

I kept my gaze focused straight ahead as the waitress came and went, rattling off specials, bringing us wine, taking our orders, things that none of us could really afford – lobster fettuccine for John, rack of lamb for Vera, grilled branzino for me.

When the menus were gone, John looked up, his eyes quickly casing the room before landing on me. ‘Vera said she told you everything.’

Vera set her wineglass down, nudging him. ‘I told you we weren’t going to talk about it tonight.’

‘I know,’ John said. ‘I just – I want to thank you, Lucy, for believing me.’

I bit my lip, feeling suddenly awkward. I stole another glance around the restaurant, spotted another woman looking over, but it was hard to tell if I was being paranoid or not.