Page 97 of Our Song

I look out again to make sure it’s definitely him.It is.

‘Laura, what’s wrong?’

‘Nothing,’ I say.‘Sorry, seriously, I’m fine.’

‘You keep poking your head out of the alcove.Are you sure nothing’s wrong?Maybe it was a bad idea coming here after all …’

I sigh.‘My ex Dave is over there with his new fiancée.’

‘His new what?’

‘His fiancée,’ I say.‘His betrothed.The woman he’s going to marry.’

‘He’s engaged again already?’

‘Well, I suppose he’s more traditional than I thought,’ I say.‘Sheispregnant, after all.’

‘Sorry, she’swhat?’

The over-the-top awfulness of it all hits me and I let out a laugh despite myself.‘It’s so cartoonishly terrible it’s kind of funny.’

‘Ah, Lol,’ says Tadhg.‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s okay,’ I say.‘No, seriously, it is.It will be.I don’t want tobe with him anymore.It’s just … we were going to get married.And now it’s like I never existed for him.He’s got a whole new life.’

‘Yeah, well,’ says Tadhg, ‘so do you.’

I roll my eyes.‘“Tadhg’s little Cinderella: rock star’s charity case”?’Those words are still burned into my head.Along with all the other headlines.

‘The people who matter know that bollocks isn’t true,’ says Tadhg.

I lean out and gesture over at the booth, where Dave and my replacement (Liz, I tell myself, her name is Liz) are getting up to go.‘Theydon’t know that.’And without thinking, I say, ‘God, I genuinely wish the tabloids had said I was your new girlfriend.At least then Dave would think I’d moved on as fast as him.’

That’s when Dave’s eyes meet mine and widen in shock.Unthinkingly, I grab Tadhg’s arm and lean back into the alcove so Dave can’t see us.But it’s too late.

‘Oh shit, he’s spotted me!No, no, no, no, no, I think he’s coming over!’

‘Lol,’ says Tadhg.‘Did you seriously mean what you just said?Do you really want him to think you’ve moved on?’

‘Oh God, yes!’

‘Do you mind if I put my arm around you?’

‘Um, no?’

‘Then,’ Tadhg is whispering in my ear now, ‘let’s give him something to think about.’

I turn my head to look at him as he slips his arm around my shoulder.Our faces haven’t been so close in a long, long time.

‘Laura?’

I turn around to find Dave awkwardly standing beside the table.The girl from Instagram – Liz, I remind myself – is next to him, holding his hand.Could there possibly be a hint of a bump underneath her elegant floral dress?

‘Oh, hi!’I flash the most brilliant smile I can muster.‘I thought I spotted you over there!’

I turn my beaming smile (don’t overdo it, Laura) on Liz.‘Hi, I’m Laura!’

‘This is Liz,’ says Dave.We haven’t seen each other since I moved out last year, but I can still read him like a book.I know he thinks he’s doing the brave, honourable thing coming over to say hello.He probably wants to make sure I haven’t, like, slit my wrists or something.For someone who avoids serious emotion, he must be very proud of himself.Whether this is all fair to Liz or not is another point.