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Poppy didn’t quite know what to say to that. She didn’t want to lie, and she didn’t want to tell the truth. So she just stayed silent. You couldn’t use someone’s silence against them, could you? That was why you stayed quiet during arrests. What you said could be used against you. That also applied to awkward post-snog chats.

Poppy and Norah looked at each other for a long moment, the weight of unspoken truths hanging between them. Poppy was no longer sure whether the silence was a strategic move or just sheer panic-induced paralysis. Either way, it was buying her time.

Norah was the first to drop the eye contact. The moment had passed. ‘So, we’re good, right? We can just go back to normal?’ she asked as she fidgeted with her coffee cup, her voice hopeful but tinged with doubt.

Poppy cleared her throat, trying to find her voice again. ‘Sure, yeah. Normal. Like it never happened,’ she said, forcing a smile that felt as natural as Norah’s.

Norah’s face softened with relief. ‘Great. I was worried we might get weird.’

Poppy raised an eyebrow. ‘Weird? Us? Never.’

They both laughed, though it was more of a nervous titter than genuine amusement. Poppy could feel the lunch crowd beginning to trickle in, the murmur of voices growing louder. She needed to wrap this up before the café turned into a bustling madhouse.

‘Look, Norah,’ Poppy said, leaning in slightly. ‘Whatever happens, we’re still friends. Always.’

Norah smiled. ‘I hope so. I would hate for this to go sideways. I like having you as a friend.’

‘Me, too,’ Poppy said. ‘Right, I better get back behind the counter.’

Norah gave her a small nod, and Poppy got up from the table. She headed back to the counter, bracing herself for the lunchtime rush. As she started taking orders and making coffees, she couldn’t help but steal glances at Norah, who was finishing her coffee and scrolling through her phone, looking as if nothing had happened.

But something had happened. Something significant. Poppy felt it in the pit of her stomach, a gnawing sensation that wouldn’t go away. She tried to push it down, focusing instead on the steady stream of customers. But the feelings kept bubbling up, no matter how many lattes she made.

As the lunch rush hit its peak, Poppy found herself in a rhythm, exchanging pleasantries with customers, flashing her best customer-service smile, and keeping things moving. But her mind kept tripping over the night before. It had felt so good before it felt so fucking awful.

She glanced at Norah again, who was now chatting with another customer, some bloke. He was clearly trying it on.

Poppy watched them talk, and she thought,She turned you down because it’s just not going to be you. Ever. Because you’re never in the right time or place, and you’re never the right someone. But it will be someone else one day. And you’ll have to watch.

As Norah slid out of the café a minute later, Poppy put in an order for a bacon sandwich, and she thought about her guitar, sitting at home. She wondered if she might have the energy to smash the thing to bits tonight.

Thirty-Two

Jesus, this was what you got for making even a slight effort. Unwanted male attention.

‘I need to go. Catch you later,’ Norah said, taking two steps back from the random guy with a dad goatee who was trying to engage her in inane chitchat.

‘Can I get your number?’ he begged.

‘I don’t have one. I’m a Luddite,’ Norah lied. ‘Never touch technology.’

‘So, how does anyone contact you?’ he asked suspiciously.

‘I’m psychic. I sense that someone wants to talk to me, and I find them. See you around,’ she said. She’d have preferred to simply say, ‘No’, but you never knew how they’d take it. Better to be weird.

Norah looked over at Poppy, who was busy with some pretty young woman at the counter. She watched Poppy giving the woman a genuine smile she couldn’t seem to summon for Norah. She felt a pang of jealousy, which was extremely stupid. All was well now. They’d had a silly moment, but they would move past it.

Norah walked briskly away from the café. She walked back to Orchid Street and let herself into her mother’s house, the familiar scent of her mother's plugin air freshener wafting up her nostrils aggressively.

‘Norah, is that you?’ her mother’s voice blared from the kitchen.

‘Yeah, Mum. Just got in,’ Norah replied, picking up her laptop from the table and opening it. She had about a minute to get logged in.

Her mother appeared in the kitchen doorway. ‘I didn’t see you come in last night. Must have been a long guitar lesson.’

Norah sighed, already feeling the fatigue from dodging her mum's probing. ‘I guess so.’

Her phone buzzed. Max again.Hi, how’s it going?She muted him and stuck her phone back in her pocket. They’d already put together a Freddie custody schedule. What more was there to say? Norah had no interest in being buddies.