‘It sounds a bit like Stockholm syndrome,’ Joe said. I frowned at him, so he expounded. ‘You know – when people who’ve been held captive defend their abductors.’
‘Oh, gosh,’ I said. I reflected on this for a few seconds and nodded thoughtfully. ‘Yes, in a way, I suppose that’s exactly what it is.’ I felt shocked that Joe had so easily handed me a key to thinking differently about my relationship with Ant. Having a label to hang on my conflicted feelings enabled me to feel a bit less confused almost immediately.
‘Do you think it can work?’ Joe asked. ‘Between the two of them, I mean?’
‘Ant and Amy?’ I asked. I tried to imagine it for a moment and then shook my head gently.
‘If that’s too painful for you to think about . . .’ Joe said.
‘No, it’s fine,’ I told him. ‘I’m just trying to visualise it. And I suppose I’d have to say that I doubt it. I really doubt it. Ant’s an incredibly difficult person to live with.’
‘You said that before,’ Joe said. ‘But how? How is he difficult?’
‘Well, he’s pretty aggressive,’ I said. ‘He’s passive aggressive mainly, but sometimes just plain aggressive aggressive. He’s controlling and obsessive; he’s a bit of a narcissist, and quite perverse sometimes. He’s pretty moody and unpredictable, too.’
‘Wow,’ Joe said. ‘All that, huh? No wonder you’re feeling perky.’
I surprised myself by laughing at that. ‘I feel guilty about it, though.’
‘Guilty?’ Joe said. ‘What do you have to feel guilty about?’
‘About feeling perky, I suppose,’ I said.
Joe stood then and crossed to the window to look out at the kids, and I suddenly panicked that I’d forgotten to watch them in the pool. But apparently everything was fine.
‘They get on really well,’ he said, and so I crossed to stand next to him, looking out.
‘Yes, they’re good kids, aren’t they? Ben’s great company for my two.’
Joe sighed deeply.
‘And you?’ I asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Joe said. ‘I thought my relationship was solid, so now I’m just confused.’
I nodded thoughtfully. ‘I suppose sometimes you just have to look at what-is.’
‘I’m not sure I follow.’
‘I suspect we lie to ourselves about how things are,’ I explained. ‘But when something like this happens, it reveals how they really were all along. It’s just that we didn’t want to see.’
‘Yes,’ Joe said. ‘Yes, I suppose. Gosh, that’s quite wise.’
Because no one had ever called me wise, I laughed at this. All the same, the compliment felt good. Perhaps I did have useful things to say, I thought. Maybe the problem was simply that I hadn’t had anyone to talk to who was interested.
‘Anyway, I’m basically gutted,’ Joe said. ‘I’m not going to deny it. I’m all wiped out about it.’
I rested one hand on his shoulder and said, ‘I’m sure.’
‘I want to tell Ben the truth,’ he said with another sigh. ‘But I’m not sure how that fits in with your plans.’
‘The truth?’ I repeated. ‘I suppose that depends which bit of the truth.’
‘I thought I’d tell him that Mum—’ His voice cracked then, and he shrugged and moved away to fill his coffee cup from the pot before sitting once again at the table. He cleared his throat and continued, ‘I’m thinking of telling him that Mum’s new best friend is Ant. And they’ve gone off to spend some time together because they get along so well.’
‘Ah,’ I said. ‘I see.’
‘That seems to me to be something he can understand. And something that isn’t actually a lie.’
I stared out at the girls as I thought about this.
‘Is that OK for you and your two?’ Joe asked. ‘Because they’re bound to compare notes.’
‘Best friends,’ I said, trying the words for size. ‘Best friends,’ I whispered again. Then, ‘I suppose it leaves it open for . . . whatever . . . evolution, or whatever you want to call it, happens.’
‘As in they’re not best friends any more. Or they’re . . .’ Joe coughed again, and then said, ‘. . . they’re in love, or getting married, or whatever.’
‘Getting married?’ I said, with a laugh. ‘That I doubt, somehow. But yes.’ I dragged my eyes from the girls to look at him. ‘Best friends. For now, let’s go with that.’
‘OK,’ Joe said. ‘I’m just going to wait until he asks me. If yours ask first, then you can say the same thing.’
I nodded. ‘Is the flight home . . . it’s not tomorrow, is it? I keep losing track of the days.’
‘It is,’ Joe said. ‘Tomorrow’s Monday. We’ll need to leave just after lunch.’
‘God,’ I said. ‘That’s going to be quite something, going home to all of this.’
‘I know,’ Joe said. ‘Tell me about it.’
‘Whose car did you take to the airport?’ I asked. It had suddenly dawned on me that without Ant we’d be stranded at Luton.
‘Mine,’ Joe said. ‘Thank God.’
‘So you can drive us home?’
He nodded. ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘We won’t have enough booster seats, but we’ll just have to manage. For one trip, it’ll be fine.’
Almost the second that we stepped back outside, Ben ran to Joe to ask him when his mother would be back. It was quite uncanny really, almost as if he’d been listening to our conversation.
‘She’s actually gone off with Ant for a bit,’ Joe told him, sitting down cross-legged to explain. I was impressed by how unflustered he sounded. ‘Ant is Mum’s new best friend.’
‘Oh,’ Ben said, frowning as he thought about this. I was watching Lucy and Sarah and could see that they too had tuned in to this conversation and were struggling to listen over Lola’s Spanish nattering.
‘But is she
