‘I’m sorry, Mary, but I think we should go,’ he said finally.

‘You don’t have to,’ Mary said, rising to her feet. But it was clear there wasn’t really another option. Elsa was planted in her seat, glaring. Her husband was sitting awkwardly beside her.

‘We’ll walk you out,’ Michael said, as Heather grabbed her purse.

At the door, they spoke in hushed tones.

‘I’m sorry, Mary,’ Stephen said. ‘I thought it would be okay.’

‘Don’t apologise!’ Mary said. ‘It’s not your fault. I have no idea what got into Elsa.’ Then, perhaps feeling disloyal, she added, ‘She and Pam were very close. I guess everyone grieves in their own way.’

‘It was a lovely dinner,’ Heather said, even though she’d barely touched the soup. ‘Thank you for inviting me.’

‘We’ll do it again,’ Mary said. ‘Soon. Just the four of us.’

‘I’ll see you at golf,’ Michael said, shaking Stephen’s hand. ‘It was great to meet you, Heather. Hopefully next time will be less eventful.’

Michael and Mary waved, and Stephen and Heather walked to the car.

‘I’m sorry,’ she started, but Stephen held up a hand.

‘Let’s talk about it at home.’

Heather got into the car. But as Stephen got into the car beside her, she felt it, that little pinch of unease she used to get when her father was on the warpath. She used to think of it as her sixth sense. It told her something was in the air. Danger.

27

RACHEL

Rachel found it hard to recall how dinner ended. At some point, the bill was paid, they’d thanked the waitstaff, and they’d wandered out into the evening together, as if it were something they’d always done. On the way back to Rachel’s house they continued their conversation from the restaurant, but with new comfort, more teasing, and an undeniable frisson of chemistry.

‘You know,’ Darcy said as they walked home, ‘that was the best date I’ve ever been on.’

Rachel laughed. ‘Me too.’

‘Really?’ He looked so delighted she decided not to remind him it was her first date.

‘Really.’

They arrived at Rachel’s house and, without discussion, went inside. Rachel located a bottle of red and some cheese, and by the time she’d returned to the living room, Darcy had moved a throw rug from the couch onto the floor.

‘Night picnic?’ he said.

‘We definitely need more food,’ she replied, deadpan. ‘I don’t think we ate enough at dinner.’

It all felt so natural and normal. For the first time, instead of resisting, Rachel went with it. She poured them each a glass of wine, then arranged some cheese and quince paste on a cracker for Darcy. She enjoyed having something to focus on, something to keep her hands busy.

‘Maybe you could go into business arranging night picnics?’ Rachel suggested. ‘If you want to start a new business.’

‘So you like it, do you?’ he said, looking pleased. ‘Good. I’m glad.’

He put his glass on the coffee table, and smiled at her. It was a different smile from his usual, mischievous one. It sent a tingle up Rachel’s spine. The kind of tingle she used to feel around men all those years ago, before that day at the beach. A good tingle.