she good at my mum’s, do you know?’
‘Good as gold, apparently,’ Jack said, a smile breaking through. ‘Christ, we sound like we’re talking about a baby.’
Isla didn’t catch his eye. She knew he wanted kids one day. She took another bite of her roll and glanced at her phone on the worktop, noticing a Facebook notification.
‘And my mum and dad are OK?’ she asked, picking up her mobile and looking at the screen.
‘Yeah, great, happier now you’re back in the UK, of course.’
‘God, when will they stop worrying about me?’ she said, opening up Facebook. ‘I just wish they’d see I’m fine now.’
‘So tell me all about your trip.’ He sat down opposite her. ‘Have you taken lots of photos? The ones you put online are fantastic.’
‘Yes . . . ’ she said, but she was distracted by an event invitation. ‘Good God, I was only thinking about him yesterday.’
‘Who?’
‘Trevor Cooper.’
‘The old boyfriend who you don’t fancy?’
She laughed, eyes glued to the screen. ‘That’s the one. He’s invited me to a university reunion.’
‘I thought he didn’t get in touch after you saw him on the train.’
‘He didn’t, and I hadn’t noticed him on Facebook either, well not until yesterday, oddly enough.’
‘Maybe he came on to sort out the reunion.’
‘Yeah, probably.’ She glanced up. ‘I like your beard, by the way,’ she said, touching his face. ‘Suits you.’
‘What this ol’ thing?’ He smiled. ‘It’s just something me and Ryan Gosling are trying out.’
‘Well you’re much cuter,’ she said, but her eyes had drifted back to her phone screen.
‘Coffee?’ Jack asked, and Isla startled. ‘Bloody hell, you’re a bit edgy,’ he continued, getting up after a bite of his roll. ‘You OK?’
‘Yes, yes I’m fine. And yes please. Love one. Thanks.’
Jack headed for the coffee machine, as she tapped the phone screen to open the event.
The cover photo was Wetherspoon’s in Cambridge.
Event Invitation:
University Reunion, Wetherspoon’s, Cambridge. Friday, 28 October 7.30 p.m.
INVITED: 6
COMING: 3
NOT COMING: 2
I’m trying to get together a few old uni friends for a reunion. I thought it was about time. It’s been years! Do you guys fancy it? Trevor
Isla looked to see who’d been invited. Roxanne wasn’t there, but then she’d fallen out with Trevor. Sara Pembroke, who had studied chemistry with him, had already accepted. Isla hadn’t had much to do with her at university, but recalled she was tall, and overweight, with short dark hair. An insular girl, if she remembered rightly. Super-intelligent.
She clicked on Sara’s profile to try to find out what she was like now, but there was a hedgehog for her profile picture, and a field of poppies as her cover photo. Her friends list and settings were private.
The declines were Stephen Grant and Jenny Dawson. They’d been the dream couple at university and were getting married on 28 October. The other acceptances were Veronica Beesley and Ben Martin. Their profiles were set to private too, their friends lists hidden, but Isla recognised them, even though they’d matured over the years. They’d unfriended Isla on Facebook a long time ago, at a time when they were clearing out old university friends, and moving on. She was amazed they’d agreed to meet up with Trevor. But then Trevor had been popular at university.
She read the comments on the event page:
Veronica Beesley: Sounds like fun. I’m in! x
Reply: Trevor Cooper: Great. Looking forward to it! What are you up to now?
Reply: Veronica Beesley: Fashion design. I’ll bore you about the last eight years when I see you. Can’t wait!
Isla’s eyes widened as she took in the words. She could hear Jack talking in a cute voice to Luna as he made some coffee, but she was fully locked in cyber-world.
She did a quick search for Veronica’s company and clicked on her website. She sold her own designs, with a quirky vibe about them. They were the kind of things Isla loved to wear, but were way out of her price range.
She clicked back to Facebook.
Ben Martin: I’ll be there if it kills me, Trev, mate.
Reply: Trevor Cooper: Great news. Be good to catch up. Are you still in publishing?
Reply: Ben Martin: I am indeed. See you Friday!
‘What’s up? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost,’ Jack said, sitting back down, and placing two freshly poured mugs of coffee in front of them.
‘I think I have,’ she said in a whisper. ‘Well a haunting of ghosts, actually.’
‘A haunting of ghosts?’
‘Like a gaggle of geese, but ghosts,’ she said, with a smile.
‘Pretty sure you just made that up.’
She hadn’t really looked at Trevor’s Facebook profile when he added her in July. Just registering, at the time, his profile picture was a wolf howling on a mountain, and his cover photo a generic beach somewhere. But she looked at it now. He had a dozen friends, including those he’d invited to the reunion.
‘Isla?’
‘What?’ She glanced up, and met Jack’s enquiring eyes. ‘Sorry. Sorry.’
Jack placed his hand over hers. ‘I was thinking, do you fancy taking off on Saturday? Maybe have a picnic by the sea? I know it’s October but . . . ’
‘Yes, yes, why not? Sounds great,’ she said, barely registering his words.
‘So when is this reunion?’ He removed his hand from hers, and nodded at her phone.
She sucked in a breath. ‘Friday night.’
‘Where?’
‘Spoons in Cambridge.’
‘Will you go?’ He swallowed a gulp of coffee.
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Could be fun meeting up with old friends. And I’ve got a backlog of Game of Thrones to watch, so I need you out of the house.’ He laughed.
‘Yeah, maybe I will.’ She looked at the phone once more. ‘Ben Martin is going. He’s in publishing.’
Jack’s eyes widened. ‘That could be good, right? He might publish your book.’
She smiled at his naivety. ‘I’m not sure he’d be best pleased if I started bombarding him with questions, but you never know.’
‘You should go, Isla,’ Jack said, his voice serious. ‘You’ll have a great time.’
She returned her eyes to the screen, clicked yes before she could think too much, and put down her phone. ‘Done,’ she said, leaning over the breakfast bar and pressing her lips on Jack’s, kissing him long and hard.
‘That’s more like it,’ he said, slipping down from the stool. Taking her hand, he led her to the bedroom.
***
Later, Isla spotted a butterfly on the work surface next to