‘I’ll give the letter to my union rep. He’ll take it to the NMC and hopefully they’ll decide I have no case to answer.’ Jodie tapped the letter. ‘They’ll probably tell the nursing home but I doubt if they will pursue it, after all, it doesn’t reflect well on BestLife Care that someone can simply sail in and leave medication around willy-nilly.’

Rivka looked relieved and wiped a hand over her face. ‘That’s what I thought.’

Jodie frowned as the truth dawned. ‘You’re going to stay with her.’ She picked up the letter and waved it. ‘Despite this? How can you bear to stay with a woman who would do such a thing?’

‘I love her,’ Rivka said. ‘I’d probably forgive her anything.’ She dropped her gaze to the table again.

Suddenly, Jodie knew there was worse to come. ‘What are you not telling me?’

Rivka didn’t lift her head. ‘I love Tasha, and I’d do anything for her.’ She looked up then, and a tear trickled down her cheek. ‘Even give up my friendship with you.’

Jodie barked a laugh. This had to be a joke! She and Rivka had been friends for ever. Since their student nurse days. Almost twenty years. ‘You can’t be serious.’

‘I’m sorry. Maybe in a few months we can reconnect, you know, when Tasha understands that she is the most important thing in my life.’

Jodie thought about all the scrapes they’d been in together. The hours they’d spent laughing, talking and growing up, the secrets and lies they’d shared.

Maybe they were all grown up at last.

The letter sat on the table between them. Jodie took it, folded it, put it into her pocket and got to her feet. ‘I hope it all works out for you, Rivka.’ Jodie turned and left the café.

40

Jodie wanted to wail and gnash her teeth, get very drunk, go around to Rivka and Tasha’s apartment and smash Tasha in the face with her fist. But she did none of these things. She’d promised to cook dinner, and that’s what she was going to do. She shopped for the easiest meal she could think to make, the loss of her friend, and of their years of friendship, weighing her down with every step she took through the supermarket as she tossed items inside willy-nilly.

‘Very nice,’ Flynn said that evening, cutting into fillet steak.

Jodie had given herself the smaller fillet and less of the roasted vegetables. She pushed the food around the plate taking miniscule pieces and swallowing them almost unchewed. She’d filled her wine glass and left it undrunk. It was easier. Flynn, she knew, wouldn’t notice that she wasn’t drinking and she wouldn’t have to lie.