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‘Let’s not pretend money isn’t an issue,’ said Theo.

‘Exactly, no matter how much I wish it wasn’t,’ I agreed.

‘But know that if you’re finding it too hard to write with me, if we’re not gelling or whatever, then you’ll find anotherway. It doesn’t have to be this. You have to do what’s right for you.’

There. He’d listened. He’d somehow tapped into the very thing I tried to remind myself of daily but never quite managed to believe: what I wanted mattered, too. Except often it didn’t feel like it, and it hadn’t for years now.

‘Are we going to do this thing about earliest memories, then?’ I said, wincing.

‘I’d rather stick pins in my eyes, but yeah, sure,’ he said.

I sighed. ‘Bloody Carla. I’m literally just going to keep saying that on repeat.’

‘I’m with you. And if we ever get this book written, I reckon we should name one of the victims after her as a form of revenge.’

We shared a smile.

‘I like that idea,’ I said.

Up ahead, I caught sight of Rob and Claire, deep in conversation.

‘Do you want to go first?’ I asked.

‘Oh, ladies first. I insist.’

Fantastic. Memories, especially the older ones, were not something I tended to dwell on. Too painful, perhaps. Too visceral. Just the thought of it made me feel a bit shaky and as though I needed to get into the probably freezing cold waters of the Mediterranean and swim far, far away. Whatwasmy earliest memory? There was the obvious, but I’d been nine then, so I could definitely go earlier if I tried. There was one image that popped into my mind. I went to say it but my throat contracted and I had to breathe a bit before I could feasibly get the words out.

‘I was five or six. I don’t remember my brother being around, so maybe five.’

‘You’re really doing this?’ asked Theo, looking panicked. He’d have to go next, after all.

‘I’m a stickler for doing what I’m told,’ I said.

‘I remember,’ he said, and for a second our eyes met, and the only memories I could think of were the ones I’d made with him. I forced myself to look away, out to sea, bringing my mind back to where it was supposed to be.

‘So yeah, I was five years old and I was reading a book. Sitting cross-legged on the bed with my mum. She was smiling at me, telling me how to pronounce words I didn’t know how to pronounce. When the book was finished she asked me if I liked the ending and I said no, and she asked me to tell her how I would have done it differently and I did and she said it was much better than the original.’

It was a bit rushed, even I could see that, but that was about as much as I could share without getting all maudlin. I glanced across at him, waiting for his reaction. When I saw the tiniest shake of his head, his dismissive expression, I couldn’t believe it.

‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ I asked him, not sure whether I really wanted to know the answer, but also not prepared to let him off the hook.

‘Like what?’ he said, immediately on the defensive.

‘Don’t try and pretend it was all in my head, because I saw you. Something I said seems to have touched a nerve.’

He groaned. ‘Sorry. I didn’t actually mean to do it. It was sort of an involuntary action.’

Was Theo for real? It had taken me a lot to share that stuff andthiswas how he made me feel afterwards?

‘Why?’ I asked, incredulous. To give him his due, he didn’t know the full story and so he couldn’t possibly know how things had panned out. But still. Even he wasn’t usually this insensitive.

‘Look, can we just forget it ever happened?’ he said.

‘Not until you explain yourself,’ I replied.

He ran his hands through his hair. ‘You really want to know?’

‘I just said, didn’t I?’