Faithful by Louise Bay Page B

him?”
    I threw my head back and laughed . I realized it was the first time I’d laughed since I’d seen the photos. The vitamin D was working already. It was a relief to see the first evidence that I wouldn’t feel as wretched as I currently did forever.
    I slept on and off again on the lounger ; the sun mixed with the alcohol was like the most effective sleeping tablet ever. It seemed like days passed, but it could only have been hours. Anna was engrossed in her magazines every time I summoned the energy to turn my head in her direction, and then sleep pulled me under again.
    When the sun completely disappeared from view , Anna ordered us back to shower and change for dinner. If I had my choice, I would just crawl into bed, but this was Anna’s holiday, too, and I felt I should make an effort.

When I came out of my room Anna was waiting for me. “Oh, dear God!” She looked at me and rolled her eyes. “You look like an Amish person.”
    Before I could respond she marched me back into her room, barked at me to remove my pastel linen shirt and drawstring trousers. “That shirt and trousers should never be put together and shouldn’t be worn at all unless we are sightseeing, do you understand me? She dressed me like I was three years old in a strapless maxi dress, a bold tribal style necklace and applied some tinted moisturizer, lip gloss, and mascara to my bare face.
    “There . Slightly less Amish, slightly more like you.” She was right; I did feel more feminine, more attractive.
    At dinner we were surrounded by a lot of couples. The pain it caused was a constant tightness across my chest and I found it difficult to look up and around and kept my head focused on the menu, my plate, my hands. Anything so I didn’t have to witness other people’s loving relationships.
    “Do you think he ever took her away? Like, for a break? What about the weekend he went fishing with his brother last November? Was he with her?”
    “I don’t know, Leah,” Anna said honestly and she patted my hand.
    “Have you spoken to Fran? Have you had a text or email from her?”
    “No, I don’t want to speak to her, I don’t want someone who would do what she’s done anywhere near me. She did text me to see what I had done at the weekend but I didn’t reply and I won’t reply.”
    “Don’t feel you don’t have to speak to her on my account. We don’t know who instigated what. Maybe Charlie started this whole thing and maybe he’s not to blame so much either.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I have to be honest with myself, I pushed him away. I was having doubts and wasn’t making time for him so it’s not surprising he found someone else.” Tears started to pool in my eyes, threatening to make a run for it down my cheeks.
    “Just stop right there. Charlie and Fran have both been completely shitty to you. I don’t care if you were having doubts or whatever. You were together six years. It’s not all going to be fair sailing. And even if he did want out, sneaking around with your close friend wasn’t the way to go about it. Fran always wants what everyone else has and even if Charlie did come on to her, she should have kneed him in the bollocks and run screaming. She was meant to be your friend.”
    “I think it’s more complicated than that. Look, I was flirting with Daniel, I’ve kissed another man. That was a betrayal of Charlie.”
    “Jesus, Leah, you and Daniel was or is a mild flirtation. Fran’s pregnant, and she’s a close friend. You get that, don’t you?” I didn’t respond—the wound felt fresh again. She was going to have the life I was meant to have.
    “In the words of Barbara Streisand and Donna Summer , 'enough is enough.' No more tears. Not tonight, anyway.” I did manage a half-chuckle at that. “Let’s fully embrace denial this evening and then tomorrow morning between 10 and 11:30 I will allow you to wallow again, and then it’s back to that river in Egypt—Denial—for the rest of the