I walked into town today and encountered Joan Wetherby. I have tried, as you wished, to make friends with your old chum, but it seems she has no desire to let me in. I was standing outside the post office chatting idly with young Lucy Falcon, the woman who moved into the yellow house on Cove Road just before you shipped out. Joan sauntered up beside us, greeting Lucy, ignoring me. That woman has always been cold towards me, but never before has she completely forgotten her manners. She did not even ask after you.

Oh dear, your son is restless tonight. Perhaps he did not like the vegetable soup I made for dinner. I thought it quite delicious. We have not faced the harsh rations here that inflict our English sisters, and I had all manner of vegetable to make use of.

My love, I must cut this short. Evening melts into night and I wish to take a walk in the moonlight like we did when you were here.

Stay safe, my darling.

Ivy

Nicole folded the letter carefully and slipped it back into its envelope.

She reached for the next one. No. With her old life now gone, routine and order were all Nicole had left to hang on to. The days were easy enough to fill with tasks, but the nights were excruciating in their loneliness. Metering out Ivy’s letters went some way to easing those dark hours.

She pulled out her notebook and started making scratchy marks. Ivy. Tom. The nursery. The baby. Around her words she doodled pictures – ivy leaves on a vine, a spinning top. Random thoughts and half-ideas.

Five

February, Last Year

The end of the signing line was finally in sight. It was the last of Nicky’s author talks. As much as she loved them, the schedule had been gruelling, and she was relieved this was the end.

She kept checking the crowd all night to see if Jane had turned up.

‘She didn’t come?’ Mark appeared beside her.

Nicky shook her head. It was her own fault. Jane had sent through her manuscript before Christmas, but with all the preparation for her book launch, Nicky just hadn’t got to it.

She’d apologised. More than once. But now it was getting embarrassing. She hadn’t texted Jane in weeks, shame stopping her each time.

No wonder Jane didn’t come.

‘I did tell you not to get your hopes up.’

He had. More than once. Nicky played moments from the last few months over and over in her mind. Was Mark right? Had she just not seen the signs of jealousy? One of his greatest assets as a lawyer was being able to read people. Maybe he saw the truth about Jane that Nicky had refused to accept. She didn’t want to believe it, but the evidence was there. Maybe Jane wasn’t the friend she thought she was.