‘So how’s Dani?’ I asked. Supervision had never been so hard. I had a hundred and one other things I wanted to ask.

‘Not great. Still very cagey about what she’s saying, and her mum is still very sick, but I’m visiting when I can.’ Elle appeared to have a good connection with one of her families, and despite coming off all child protection cases following the assault that resulted in her being stabbed, Elle and Colin had agreed for her to keep Dani on her case load, a young girl struggling to cope with her mum’s MS and the demands of being a young carer.

‘Are you sure you want to keep hold of her? I know the family home isn’t far from where you were attacked. I can move her to someone else.’

‘No. I want to stay involved. Abi’s been visiting with me when she can. I’ve been OK so far.’

‘I’m glad you’re still friends. You’re good for each other. You calm Abi down and she makes you more daring. It’s a good mix. Always was,’ I said, pretending to write down the last few notes and trying to figure out how I would type up Elle’s supervision when most of the notes read ask her in thick scrawl.

I made a show of ending the session by dropping my notepad in my desk drawer and swivelling my chair to face her. ‘Off the record, I want to ask you something. I keep hearing the same thing. She talks about being used or letting people use her. What does that even mean?’

‘I can’t answer that,’ Elle said as she stood up.

‘Has she been in a relationship since me?’

She glanced towards the door. She looked like she was either planning her escape or assessing if it was thick enough to keep in muffled voices.

‘Elle, we used to be friends too. Help me out.’

‘No.’

‘No she hasn’t been in a relationship, or no you won’t help me out?’ I needed absolute clarification on this.

‘I don’t know what’s going to come of this. Have you forgotten you’re married? What does it matter to you anyway?’ She had this tone of anger in her voice. I’d never heard it from her before. Elle was always so quiet, so passive, and always so fucking quick to see the best in everyone. Where was the Elle that I knew? Had months of comforting Abi changed her opinion of me?

‘Please,’ I said, trying to appear as calm as possible.

‘No, she hasn’t been in a relationship since you.’

I let out a strangled gasp and quickly covered my embarrassment with a cough aimed into my fist. ‘What about the guy at the bar?’

‘Rob’s a friend.’

‘A friend with benefits,’ I stated.

‘She doesn’t do relationships. She just…’

‘What, Elle?’

She took a deep breath. ‘She went through a phase of having one-night stands. A lot of them. He happened to make it twice. She was just trying to forget you, but I think she’s coming out of it all now.’

I laughed bitterly at her choice of words and shook my head briefly in annoyance. ‘Jesus, it’s not some kind of epidemic or the bloody flu.’

‘Did you expect her never to have sex again? That’s not fair, is it? How many have you slept with since you left?’ She blushed terribly and covered her mouth with her hand. ‘I’m sorry, that’s totally unprofessional. I shouldn’t have asked that.’

I followed her eyes to the same spot of carpet and felt my lungs clash for air. ‘There’s so much I want to say. So much I need to explain.’

‘Then why don’t you? Just for her sake. She needs to move on. I can’t tell you how many nights I’ve been there to comfort her. Do you know how hard that is to do that when you have no idea what to say? Imagine having something so precious, so amazing, and then someone takes it away from you. How can someone move on from that?’

‘I know how that feels. I know more than anyone,’ I said in a hollow voice, the tick in my jaw flexing its legs again.

‘Promise me you’ll talk to her,’ she said as she stood up. ‘Tell her everything.’

I nodded. Elle was right. I owed Abi an explanation. I opened the drawer, took out the pad, ripped off the ask her doodles and wrote a note.

Meet me in the park at the end of the road at 1 p.m.

I folded it up, jumped out of my chair and made my way to Abi’s desk. I spotted the stapler and put the note underneath it, a corner peaking out to be sure it would be seen. Thirteen seconds later, I found myself back at my desk pressing my fingers into my eyelids as I thought about all the notes I’d hidden under her stapler and how different this was to the rest.

I was glad to be busy for the next hour. Phone calls and off the cuff supervisions had taken up my time and given me a welcome distraction from worrying about the team meeting that morning. Team meetings always made me edgy. Abi would hide away in the corner at her desk, choosing not to join the circle of chairs in the middle.

When I walked down to the office, her chair was empty. I had to start the team meeting without her, which only made my nerves worse.

‘I have a training opportunity here. It’s an annual conference where there will be different speakers on various topics. Some will be directly work based but there will also be info on the latest research in social work. It’s an overnight stay in Birmingham at a pretty decent hotel and there will also be a few seminars on the fascinating subject of stats led by yours truly.’ The team whistled and laughed, causing me to stroke my forehead nervously. Public speaking was not my idea of a top day out, but I was starting to realise it came with management territory. As the team calmed down, Abi breezed through, apologising to no one in particular for being late as she dropped her bags and took her usual corner spot.

‘Morning, Abi. All OK?’ I asked.

‘Fine.’

One-word responses were better than nothing.

‘I was just talking about an upcoming conference with various speakers on the latest research. It involves an overnight stay.’ She carried on unpacking her bags. ‘If you’re interested, I’ll put your name down.’ She was now reading the note hidden under the stapler. She looked like she had seen the ghost of Elvis Presley riding the back of Bigfoot.

‘Yeah, yeah, that’s fine. Sounds good,’ she said dismissively, wafting her hands in front of her as she continued looking at the note.

‘Is that everyone?’ I asked to a room of quiet social workers. Very unnerving.

I walked over and put the conference booklet on her desk. She picked it up without looking and slipped it into her bag. ‘It has all the details of the hotel and directions, so I wouldn’t lose it if I were you,’ I said, pointing to the canvas bag she’d slipped it into. She looked up and whipped me with her stare.

‘Jamie, can you explain where I’m going?’ Vijay shouted from across the room, forcing me to leave Abi’s desk. I glanced at the clock. Ten to one. I felt Abi brush past me. My eyes followed her down the corridor. I noticed she’d put on her cardigan and her bag was across her shoulder.

After finishing my conversation with Vijay, I headed to the café on the corner to grab a couple of coffees and to give me a few more minutes to rehearse what the fuck I was going to say to Abi.

* * *

She was sitting on the swings. I joined her on the next one along, sliding my legs either side so I could face her. She stared out without looking at me, took the coffee, and started to swing. I watched. I waited. She was swinging three minutes later.

‘Abi, stop, please.’ Her heels scraped on the floor bringing the swing to a stop. She mimicked my legs, also positioning them either side, and finally looked at me.

‘There’s not enough brandy in this coffee,’ she said.

‘There is no brandy.’

‘Exactly. Fill her up,’ she replied, handing the coffee back to me.

‘Too early in the day for that. Or too early for a workday,’ I replied, handing the cup back to her.

She smiled slightly. ‘I nearly cried when I saw your note. It took me right back.’

‘I’m not sure whether to say sorry or thanks.’

‘Don’t say either. It’s not necessary.’ She dismissed me with her eyes, looking off into the distance and clipping her hair in her hand to stop it blowing around in the breeze. She looked like a fucking angel.

‘I just want to clear the air a bit,’ she said, picking at the coffee cup like she had suddenly found something amazingly interesting on the packaging. ‘I’ve not really been myself since you left, and I know it’s because I didn’t have any form of closure.’

‘Abi—’

‘No. Let me finish,’ she said, raising her hand. ‘I’m not going to lie. Hearing you say you’re married wasn’t easy. I ate my body weight in cookies over the weekend and the amount of wine I drank could have filled a fucking bath.’ There was my Abi. Funny, straight to the point, and even more beautiful when she smiled. ‘But now I have some closure. That’s it for us. No going back. I’ve lived hoping for any kind of second chance, but now I know that won’t happen, I can move on.’ She shrugged like it meant nothing, but I knew it meant everything.

‘There’s a lot I want to say,’ I mumbled.

‘There’s nothing to say. I don’t want to know the ins and outs.’

‘What if I need you to hear them?’

She shook her head. ‘No. That’s a line I can’t cross.’ She motioned her finger across her throat and smiled. ‘I do want to say thanks, though.’

‘For what?’ I sighed heavily, frowning as she grasped the metal rope of the swing and looked across into the distance.

‘After everything you’ve put me through, you’ve made me strong. I’ve survived this, so I can survive anything.’

I knew it was all lies. She was trying to put us to rest. I should have let her, but I wasn’t sure I could let that happen. Not anymore.