‘No. It should be me. I mean, I’ve known her longer than you. I reckon I’m the one who’s being the most disloyal.’

‘First off, nobody’s being disloyal,’ he said, irritated. ‘Me and her finished months ago, remember? And also, remember that she was the one who was shagging around.’

‘Right, well, on that subject …’

‘Oh Christ, don’t tell me you’ve been shaggin’ around too,’ he laughed.

‘You laugh because you know that that is something I will never do.’

He stopped and took her hand and kissed it. ‘Yeah, I do know that, as it goes. Anyway, carry on.’

But Judith didn’t answer immediately, steeling herself for what she had to say.

‘Jude?’ Gareth looked confused.

‘Well, first of all I’m sorry for not telling you this sooner, OK?’

‘OK …’ said Gareth quietly.

And Judith took a deep breath, closed her eyes and said the words.

29

Lana

Three months later

Remember this moment, she kept thinking. She wanted to capture it for ever, engrave it in her memory, the day one of her two best friends got married. Standing there in St Theodore’s with the frosty December sunshine streaming in through the stained-glass window behind the altar and the smell of incense making it all feel so holy. Catrin and Solomon were kneeling down before Father O’Leary, receiving his blessing and the blessing of every person in that church. She wasn’t religious herself, but today she felt something akin to a spirituality she’d not experienced before, a joyousness that filled her to the brim.

She glanced at her other best friend, standing next to her in an identical Empire-line gown of royal-blue velvet. Poor Jude. She hated the dress. And Lana could see why – she looked so bloody uncomfortable in it and was clearly glad to be able to hide under the pretty wrap that not only accessorized the dress but also kept out the December cold. Lana tried smiling at her, keen to inspire a shared moment, a moment of Isn’t this amazing? But her enthusiasm wasn’t returned. Still, she wouldn’t be put off. Today was special. And nothing was going to spoil it.

Apart, possibly, from Gareth.

Of course, it wasn’t ideal that he’d been invited to the evening party. When Lana first discovered this, she’d protested. ‘What d’you have to do that for, Cat? It’s gonna ruin my night having him there!’

Catrin was uncharacteristically tetchy in her response. ‘Yeah, well it’s not your wedding, is it? And he’s our friend, after all.’

‘Suppose so,’ said Lana, realizing she was being a bit selfish.

Over the past ten months she’d thought about Gareth a lot – mainly with guilt over how she’d behaved. She’d tried talking to Catrin and Judith about it on the rare occasions she’d seen them recently, but neither of them had been much help. In fact, neither of them had been much anything of late: Catrin’s hen night in October had been a bit of a damp squib – thank God for Liz Kelly, who had joined in with the tequila slammers and generally been up for a fun night, because Jude and Cat had been like two boring old women. Lana had asked them several times what was wrong – but they’d both clammed up.