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‘Well, that’s the cool bit. At Fenchurch Fine Art Gallery.

I managed to talk the owner into giving me a shot there.

I’m mostly doing the donkeywork of organising exhibitions and manning the desk when he’s not around, but I’m enjoying it.

There’s a lot of face-to-face interactions, which I’m good at, and I feel like I’m learning the biz from the ground up.

My background knowledge in art has been incredibly useful, plus the things I learnt to do at the hotel have ended up being a help too.

You’ll no doubt be surprised to know that I haven’t been late for work once and I very much don’t intend to be either.

I’m taking this very seriously.’ She picks up her drink and takes a big gulp, before smiling at me. It’s a genuine smile, full of warmth.

My heart flips.

‘That’s great, Dee.’

‘I’ve not told you the best bit yet.’

‘Which is?’

‘I met a couple of artists recently through the gallery and they invited me to exhibit some of my paintings at an event they were holding at their artists’ collective studio, and I managed to sell four of them.’

She beams at me and I can’t help but smile back.

‘Congratulations.’

‘Thank you,’ she says, colour rising to her cheeks now. ‘And off the back of it, I’ve got some space exhibiting at an artists’ fair at Somerset House in a couple of months, which is ridiculously exciting. So keep your fingers crossed for me. It could make the world of difference to my career.’

I want to reach out and pull her into a hug, but I resist the urge. It feels like too much of a liberty right now. ‘I’m happy for you, Dee. Seriously.’

‘Thanks,’ she says again, her eyes shining with pleasure.

The sight of it makes a bubble of joy rise in my chest.

‘I figured, if I really wanted to be a career artist, I ought to stop fannying around, waiting for it to happen to me. That was never going to work.’

‘Sounds sensible.’

‘Well, you inspired me.’

I let out an involuntary snort. ‘Really?’

‘Yup.’

‘Huh.’

‘No need to sound so shocked. I do pay attention to the things people tell me sometimes. Especially people I respect.’

‘Wow. That’s not something I ever thought I’d hear come out of your mouth,’ I tease.

‘Well, I live to shock.’ She winks at me. ‘Especially you.’

My entire body responds to this, sending a rush of ecstatic energy through every muscle.

Dee doesn’t seem to notice my sexual distraction, though.

‘Honestly, I want to be the sort of person you respect, in the same way you respect Bea. And I guess I should thank you for being so honest with me and helping me realise that. I needed a boot up the arse.’

‘Well, I’d like to say it was my pleasure, but I never took any pleasure in having a go at you. It was down to pure frustration,’ I say, aware that my voice seems to have deepened by an entire octave.

‘Yeah, I got that. You don’t have a mean bone in your body, Numbers.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Though I know you definitely have another kind of bone, in certain situations…’

Jesus.

‘Is this another one of your trouser-snake jokes?’ I say, trying very hard not to remember all the times she’s seen that particular bone. And, predictably, it decides to make another entrance at the memories. I’m very grateful that I’m sitting behind a table right now.

‘You know me so well,’ she says with a grin.

‘Yeah. I guess I do.’

We look at each other while the meaning of that sinks in. Because we do know each other pretty well after spending that intense time together on Kapheira island. It irretrievably bonded us together, I think.

My pulse picks up its beat as I look into her deep blue eyes. She has such charismatic personality in her face, I can’t help but gaze at it in wonder.

‘So are you seeing anyone at the moment?’ Dee asks, breaking into my distracted trance.

‘I’ve been on a couple of dinner dates recently with a friend of a friend, but there wasn’t any chemistry, so there’s been no one serious, no.’

She nods.

‘How about you?’ I ask, preparing myself for a declaration about how in love she is with some incredible guy that I’m no doubt going to hate the sound of. Not that I want her to be unhappy. Just not happier without me.

‘No one special,’ she says, giving a shrug of her shoulder. ‘Actually.’ She huffs out a sigh. ‘Honestly? I haven’t dated since I last saw you. I’ve been too focused on getting my career back on track.’

I’m stunned. She’s not dated for four months? ‘Oh. Right,’ is the only response I have. All other words have deserted me.

‘I’m surprised half the population of London hasn’t been throwing themselves at your feet, though,’ she says with a grin, saving me from my awkwardness.

‘Well, they may have been, but I’ve been pretty focused on other things, so too busy to notice,’ I joke.

‘How’s your mum?’ she asks, catching me off guard. ‘Did the move to London go okay?’

I rub my hand over my brow, trying to soothe the sudden tension there.

‘Uh, she’s not great, to be honest. She barely recognises me any more when I visit and doesn’t tend to engage in much going on around her.

She’s barely talking now. I feel like she’s pretty much gone, at least in spirit. ’ Sadness coils in my gut.

‘Oh, Jem, I’m so sorry,’ Dee says with genuine empathy in her voice.

‘Yeah. It sucks. She doesn’t seem unhappy though, so that’s a blessing at least. And I feel like she occasionally knows I’m there and that I love her and care about her, even if she’s not sure who I am.’

Dee clears her throat. ‘You know… if you like… I could come with you sometime when you visit her? For moral support? And I’d love to meet your mum.’

The idea of this sobers me up instantly. I’m not sure I want to cross those streams. As much as I appreciate the gesture, I feel like I want to keep the way I feel about each of them separate in my head.

‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea. It’s confusing for her to meet new people,’ I say.

But do I mean that? It might actually be good to have someone else there when I visit. Someone who understands me. Someone I don’t have to pretend with.

‘Okay, well, you know, if you change your mind, or ever want to talk to someone, or just go for a coffee sometime and not talk about it, then give me a call, okay? I’m around and I’d be happy to meet up. As friends,’ she says.

She leans forwards, putting the flats of her hands onto the table, right by where I’m resting mine, but with enough space between them that they don’t touch. Even so, my skin prickles with awareness.

‘I know I’m no expert in grief, or dealing with something as traumatic as the things you’ve been through – and are still going through – but I’d like to help in any way I can,’ she says with complete seriousness.

‘Support you. If you’d like me to. And if you don’t, then I’ll understand and leave you alone.

I just want what’s best for you. Because I care about you. ’

‘Thanks.’ I go to open my mouth and say more, but the words dry up in my mouth. I’m suddenly incredibly nervous and doubting everything I’m feeling. Am I reading this right? Does she just want to be friends with me now? And is that what I want? Do I actually want more? Can I have it?

Dee seems to take my uncommunicativeness as yet another rejection because she removes her hands from the table, then slaps them onto her knees and says, ‘Okay, well, it’s been good seeing you. I, err, have to go and meet a friend and I’m a bit late now. So, I guess I’ll see you around.’

I watch her get up and start to put on her coat, a pulse beating hard in my temple.

I have a sudden urge to let her know I’m there for her too if she needs me and that I know she was there for Bea when it really mattered. I love that she stood up for her sister, even though it meant swallowing her pride and giving Bea centre stage once again.

Which must have been hard for her after striving for equal attention her whole life. She’s been constantly forced to fight to get it – but never quite got there.

But she’s still fighting for what she wants.

Her dad’s indifference and her mum’s jealousy could have broken her, but she’s refused to let it.

You’ve got to respect that.

I do respect that.

And I’m coming to realise that that’s exactly the kind of fighting spirit I want in a partner. Someone who doesn’t give up.

But I need just a bit more time to think about this. I don’t want to jump into it and get it wrong. Perhaps we should try being friends first.

‘Dee?’

‘Yeah?’ She turns back to look at me, already a couple of steps away.

‘Are you free for lunch on Saturday? There’s a place near my flat that I’ve been meaning to check out, but I feel weird about going there on my own.’

‘Oh! Well, sure. Yeah, I’d love to save you from an embarrassing situation. It’s about time I made up for all the times I’ve caused them.’ The grin she gives me is one of pure mischief.

There’s a lifting sensation in my chest.

‘Great. I’ll message you.’

‘Cool.’