What? But those were HIS words!

And then the ultimate blow. A photograph of her taken on the day of the christening. A bit grainy, but it was definitely Lana, smoking and laughing outside the church. And next to it a photo of Jude, looking pretty miserable nearby. Where in God’s name had they come from?

And then she remembered there was some woman outside the church taking photos of her, Because you’re famous like now, aren’ you? She’d said she was in school with them, though for the life of her, Lana couldn’t remember who the woman was – Vicky something? No, Becky! Becky Williams – that’s it! She hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, but the bitch had clearly sold her ‘story’ to the Sunday Edition.

And according to a reliable source, Lana Lloyd fell out with Judith Harris, her best friend, eighteen years ago, when Judith stole Lana’s boyfriend from under her nose and went on to have his child … “Lana has never forgiven her!” said the friend. This makes sense, considering she’s never had children of her own. When I bring up the subject I see a sadness in her eyes. It’s clearly a sore point and would explain the jealousy she feels towards her one-time friend …

Lana felt sick. Surely this wasn’t happening. Her phone buzzed. A text from Catrin:

OH MY GOD LARN, HAVE YOU SEEN THE SUNDAY EDITION????

40

Judith

She couldn’t believe she was flying to Cyprus for the third time that year. And for the saddest of reasons. This journey, which they took every summer – and sometimes in spring – had always been a joyful one. Ever since that week in 1987 when Gareth had come out, they’d visited Kakopetria as a family. And every time, they’d been welcomed with open Cypriot arms. All three of them adored visiting the beautiful village in the Troodos Mountains and Jack loved nothing more than hanging out with his Pappoús and Giagiá Cleo. Judith had looked forward to every trip. Until this one.

Because now she was sitting there in silence, no excited smiles at the prospect of two weeks in Sofia’s beautiful home, spending hour upon happy hour in the company of her father and his wife, playing with her cousins’ children, eating splendid feasts of traditional Greek food and soaking up the Cypriot sunshine.

No.

Because this time they were flying there to say goodbye.

They’d gone out just after Christmas for a week. And from the moment they’d arrived they could all tell things weren’t right. Cleo was so quiet she barely spoke a word; her girlish giggle had disappeared and her smile had become a rarity. And George, poor George – he’d lost so much weight. Cleo was frequently and uncharacteristically cross with him, and Judith often found herself walking in on hushed conversations held in dark corners. George looked pale and withdrawn and he’d stopped smoking. Had Cleo’s nagging finally got the better of him? It was a good thing, of course, but did he resent it? Was his relationship with Cleoniki beginning to lose its shine?