‘I want a transfer,’ I said, barely looking at the man in front of me. Luke Simms was sitting behind his desk with his arms folded across his chest and possibly a slight smirking smile in the corner of his mouth.

Bastard.

It had been four weeks since Jamie had told me about his daughter.

‘Do you want to tell me what this is all about?’ he asked as I busied myself running my fingers across the smooth edge of the desk.

Luke had taken over as head of children and families a few months after ending a short and ill-matched relationship with Elle. Their relationship was a disaster waiting to happen, but there are some mistakes you have to just let your friends make. Elle had taken Luke’s promotion well knowing that she wouldn’t bump into him as part of frontline work and was reassured that she would only need to see him in very short bursts.

‘I feel that I’ve outgrown the team. I’m confident in my skills and feel my professionalism shines, so it’s time to move on and think about career development, progression, climbing up the ladder, hitting my head on the glass ceiling.’

He hid his smile behind his hand.

Things carried on as normal at work. Jamie tried to keep out of my way, but when he couldn’t, he was all nervous ticks and blushes. The only time we mentioned what had happened was when he’d waited for me by my car one night, pinning me against the driver’s door and hastily telling me he hadn’t forgotten what I’d said to him but couldn’t do anything about leaving until Clara was well enough to cope. I’d felt everything. I’d felt every piece that was smashed and broken. I’d felt his love and I’d felt his desire in his fingertips across my collarbone and his racing heart as I pressed my hand to it. He’d pulled away like he was trying to stop himself from touching me anywhere else.

I knew I couldn’t cope with any more moments like that. They left me breathless and gasping for air. He floored me. My heart couldn’t take the pace.

‘Abi, does this have anything to do with the fact that Jamie Dawson is your boss?’ he asked.

‘Why would that matter?’ I replied, trying to appear as calm as possible.

He sat back in his chair and considered his response.

‘I’m not here to regurgitate the mess. I just want a transfer. I’m bored in my current team. I need some new experiences. I would even consider leaving child protection to try adoption or fostering.’

‘Abi, I can’t give you a transfer just because you’re finding it hard being around Jamie. Believe me, I understand. I would find it hard working with Elle day in and day out.’

‘Don’t compare what I had with Jamie to what you had with Elle. You treated her like shit and strung her along,’ I said quietly, wondering how I could get out of there without honouring a threat I’d previously made about cutting of his ballsack if he ever went near her again. How dare he put our relationships side by side.

‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I know we’ve had our differences over the years, but I really did like you. You’re a bloody great social worker and you’ve always been there for Elle.’

‘That’s nice, Luke, but I’ve always disliked you intensely and still do. Now, about my transfer.’

* * *

‘Hey, are you OK?’ Elle crouched down at the side of my bed and started stroking my arm softly. It took me a second to remember where I was. I watched her blonde hair drop around her face as she had placed a glass of water on the bedside table.

‘What time is it?’ I asked in a gravelly I’ve just had a fucking tease of a dream voice.

‘It’s eleven. You were talking in your sleep. Something about stripy socks,’ She smiled knowingly.

‘Oh yeah, I get plagued by the most random dreams sometimes.’

Not random. Every dream was about him. Every dream rubbed my nose in the fact that he wasn’t lying in my bed.

Damn those stripy socks.

‘I was thinking, shall we just order pizza? There’s nothing in, we haven’t planned anything, and we’ve got a flat full coming later.’

‘Fuck, I’d forgotten,’ I said, squinting my eyes to get the focus back.

We’d organised a catch up with Gem and Kate for later that day. We hadn’t seen each other properly since I’d asked for a transfer. They wanted the full story instead of text snapshots and third-party explanations.

Elle and I bumbled along like teenagers left alone for the first time when parents go on holiday. The washing pile was so big it was now balancing precariously on top of the wash basket, and the fridge contained an old bottle of antibiotics—only an old bottle of antibiotics.

Rather than being responsible adults, we chose to party. We also chose to eat out for every meal, including snacks, and Elle had agreed to join me in forgetting reality through a bottle of wine before bed. Reality wasn’t worth it—I liked living in a permanent alcohol haze.

‘I can’t believe you’ve only got a month left before you leave,’ Elle said as she sat down on the bed.

‘I’m not leaving leaving. I’m just going to be down the road.’

Luke had agreed for me to transfer to the adoption and fostering team. I was feeling relieved that Jamie would no longer be part of my work life when he had taken over so much of my personal life.

‘I heard about supervision yesterday,’ she said with a pained look on her face.

I hadn’t told Jamie personally about my transfer; Luke had. He didn’t speak to me about it, but he announced it to the team a few days later. He couldn’t look me in the eye and then he disappeared for the rest of the afternoon. Yesterday, we had our first supervision since the news broke. To say he was pissed off was an understatement. There was enough anger to power a small shopping centre for a week.

During case discussions, he had slipped in a sentence almost like he was hoping I wouldn’t notice.

Why didn’t you talk to me?

We could have worked through this.

How the fuck will I cope not seeing you every day?

How could you do this to us?

I shook my head to every question apart from one. I answered ‘How could you do this to us?’ with a spew of language so unprofessional I should have been escorted from the building and had my keys and ID badge confiscated.

‘He can’t have it both ways, can he? A wife at home and a work wife in the office.’

‘A work mistress.’ Elle whispered the word mistress like it was a dirty word.

‘No, honestly, he would never have allowed that to happen,’ I replied, sitting up and pulling the cover back as the door buzzed.

‘I’ll get it,’ Elle said. ‘It’s your mum,’ she shouted through from the hall.

That was all I needed.

* * *

‘I’ve only dreamt of seeing this much bling on a body,’ Mum said as she shook her boobs to encourage the light to reflect off the sequins of the dress. I had to admit she had a great body for her age, but I was having trouble accepting any positive things about her as she had casually crashed our girlie catch up session completely unannounced. Add the fact that she was now raiding my wardrobe for her date and I was in a serious sulk stroke bitch mood.

‘It looks ridiculous. Please remember that you’re too old for cleavage-baring dresses.’

‘Hang on a minute. I may be getting older, but I’m not at the stage of wearing bobble hats and pulling a shopping trolley.’

‘Can’t see you doing that anytime soon,’ Kate laughed as she opened a bottle of beer.

‘Absolutely right, Kate,’ Mum said, putting her arm lazily around Kate’s shoulders. ‘Now, can you talk my daughter into lending me this dress?’

‘Take the fucking dress, Mum!’ I shouted from the bathroom. ‘I’m sure your new man will love taking out a woman old enough to be his mother in a dress that looks like you’re about to join the line up of Strictly Come Dancing.’

‘Abi Sinclair, there are no rules in the dating handbook that say a woman can’t enjoy a younger man.’

I made a gagging noise. ‘Pass me the dating handbook and I’ll smash you over the head with it.’

‘Oh, shush. Just because your disaster of a love life is turning you into a bitter spinster, doesn’t mean I can’t have fun.’

‘Thanks. Thanks, Mum,’ I said nodding my head.

‘Has she told you?’ she asked, moving her pointed finger across Elle, Gem and Kate. ‘Hanging on for a married man.’ She pulled me into her chest and kissed the top of my head. ‘She deserves better. Look at this beautiful girl. She may be a bloody nightmare, but she deserves to be loved with a passion.’

Elle took Mum’s glass of wine from her and replaced it with a glass of water. ‘You need to be sober for your date.’

‘What did I do to deserve these beautiful girls in my life?’ she laughed, turning to see me sulkily resting my elbow on the dressing table and squashing my mouth up with my hands. ‘You’ll find someone, gorgeous,’ she said, stroking my hair away from my face. ‘He wasn’t worth it, as sexy as he was. And believe me, I pictured him so many times when I was struggling to find my happy place.’

‘Shitting hell, Mum!’ I shouted in disgust as the girls started laughing.

‘What? No harm in that. I never touched him,’ she said, holding her hands out in surrender. She took in my serious sulk and pulled in her mouth. ‘Girls, can you give us five minutes?’

They all got up and filed out.

‘Come here.’ Mum held her arms out as she sat on the bed. I lay down with my head on her lap. She stroked my head like she did when I was eight when Dad had just died. I struggled so much with my feelings back then. I knew I felt sadness, but wrapped up in that sadness was a huge sense of relief that we would no longer have to think about every word we said before we said it, or map everything out to ensure we wouldn’t royally piss him off.

I took advantage of the comfort she gave me, understanding now that we had comforted each other. She had a need to protect me as her daughter and I had a need to make her feel better because I still needed my mum despite her grief and her pain.

‘I know you hate me,’ she said. I jerked my body to face her, shocked at her completely rubbish assumption.

‘I don’t hate you. Why would you say that?’

‘We’ve had an unconventional relationship. I know I’ve made some terrible decisions in the past, but the one thing that’s kept me going, and still does, is you. I love you so much. I’ve hated seeing you so hurt,’ she said as she continued stroking my forehead.

‘Well, Jamie and I are very definitely smack bang in the middle of the friend zone with an extra element of professionalism. Very complicated,’ I told her, smiling to mask the hurt.

‘You know, I’ve been the other woman too. It hurts like fuck.’

‘I’m not going to be the other woman, Mum. I wouldn’t do that.’

‘Listen, I slept with my ex knowing he was married.’

‘Bloody hell.’ I covered my ears with my hands.

‘Don’t act so high and mighty. How did you know the men you took home for the night weren’t married?’

To put it simply, I didn’t.

‘I’m not doing that anymore. I’m going to just see what happens. If I meet someone, fine.’

‘Bullshit.’ She pushed me up from her lap. ‘You don’t feel you deserve love, but I have no idea why. The one-night stands were an excuse. No, that’s not quite right. They were an opportunity to put on the act. Abi Sinclair the heartbreaker, the girl who doesn’t give two fucks. That isn’t you. A mum can see through that, so can best friends. I gave you some god-awful advice when Jamie left. It was wrong of me to say you should make him jealous by telling him you were seeing someone else. Maybe if I hadn’t said that, he wouldn’t have got himself into this mess.’

‘It’s water under the bridge now. We can’t change things.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Nothing you said or did could have changed what ultimately happened. Mum, it’s taken years to realise how important you are to me. I know you think you’ve been shit at this parenting lark but, Christ, you’ve done such a good job. I’m proud of you. You’ve given me good values despite your questionable ones.’ She smacked me on the arm and I smiled in response. ‘You’ve raised this bloody mad character. I’m me because of you.’

‘Wonderfully you. I wouldn’t have you any other way,’ she whispered.

We hugged each other again, holding a little bit tighter, stroking our thumbs across the fabric of our clothes a little bit firmer. She was late for her date with the man-boy she had met in a launderette.

I followed her through to the kitchen where the girls were looking through takeaway menus. ‘Abi, remember I was telling you about sleeping with my married ex?’ I rolled my eyes dramatically. ‘I also found out he slept with my best friend after sleeping with me at a party. He was rampant.’

Fuck, she didn’t have an ounce of filter.

‘Information we didn’t need to know, Mum.’

‘Hold on! I want to know more. How did you find out?’ Gem asked, fascinated.

‘She told me.’

‘No way! What a bitch,’ Gem replied.

‘Hmm, she took great pleasure in it. Gossiped for England. Love you, gorgeous. See you tomorrow.’ And with that, she was gone, crashing the door closed behind her.

‘You OK ?’ Elle asked, handing me a glass of wine.

‘Yeah, I’m good.’ For the first time in a while, I was telling the truth.

* * *

A few weeks passed by. Jamie was perfectly professional and I followed his lead. I noticed a few weeks previously that he was working from home more, often taking files with him in his rucksack; so out of sync with the suits and brogues, but so typically him.

I would be lying if I said it had become easier. I still felt a ball of feelings ranging from love, hurt, hate, sorrow and lust all stirring around in the pit of my stomach whenever I saw him.

He told me at the end of our last supervision session that Clara was home and things continued to be difficult between them, but she was starting to make the steps towards recovery, using counselling to come to terms with the loss of their daughter.

I often wondered what she looked like and couldn’t picture anyone other than me beside him. Two weeks later, on the start of a beautifully sunny day, I found out exactly what she looked like.

I was sitting at my desk reading the instructions on how to warm up my soup when my phone rang. ‘Hi, I’m about to have lunch. What’s up?’ I asked.

‘Abi, I have a lady in reception. She’s asked to speak to you,’ Matthew said.

‘Who is it?’ I could hear the background noise of voices.

‘Her name is Clara. She asked if Jamie was here and then asked to see you.’

I felt a rise of goosebumps across my arms. ‘Shit. Tell her I’m not here.’

More voices. Fuck.

‘I’m sorry, Abi, but she says she’ll wait to see you.’

I blew out a breath and started twirling the phone wire as I thought about why she would be here. ‘Is there a private room we can use?’ I didn’t want the whole building listening in on this.

‘Both meeting rooms are busy but Jamie’s office is free. He’s not due back until after lunch. Is everything OK?’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘Jamie’s room is close to reception so I’ll keep an eye out just in case.’

‘Thanks. I’ll be down in a minute.’ As soon as I get my breath back.

I stood and smoothed my hair with my hands. The office was quiet, which only added to my impending sense of doom. Elle was out and Kate was in one of the meeting rooms with a client. No backup. No words of advice. What kind of friends were they?

I approached reception with caution and immediately saw her. She was stunningly beautiful with her copper hair styled in bouncy waves and her green eyes accentuated by winged eyeliner and a smoky eye that was perfect, like a picture from a magazine. She wore a white t-shirt and cardigan, black trousers and amazingly high black sandals. A large leather bag was balanced on her knee and class and elegance shot out from every single pore.

‘Clara?’ I quizzed as I opened the main door.

She stood and hooked her bag on her shoulder. ‘You must be Abi.’

‘Yes. You wanted to see me?’ She nodded. ‘I’m not sure what I can do for you but follow me,’ I said, trying to sound as breezy as possible even though I knew where this was going.

I opened Jamie’s door, holding it for Clara as she passed through and sat down. She smiled and her body language was eerily pleasant.

‘I’m sure you know why I’m here,’ she said.

‘I’m sorry, I’m not sure I do.’

‘You’re very pretty. I can see why he’s been holding a flame for so long,’ she said in a frighteningly calm voice.

‘Clara—’

‘Has he told you about me?’ she asked, still so calm.

‘I know who you are, yes.’

‘That’s funny because he’s never mentioned you.’ She smiled somewhere between false and stellar restraint.

‘Why would he?’

Clara laughed silently and picked up her bag. She rummaged through until she pulled out a stack of letters tied together with a piece of thin leather. My heart dropped and I instinctively put my hand to my mouth. I knew immediately that they were mine.

‘He’s been working from home a lot. I thought it was sweet, that finally he was starting to care about me in the way I’ve so desperately wanted him to. I found these a week after we moved in together. They were hidden at the back of the wardrobe. Not a great hiding place.’ She smiled again. Calm. Collected. Serene.

‘We have history,’ I said quietly.

‘You certainly do. I’ve read them. Every single one.’ She picked up the pile and untied the leather, picking one out of the envelope and holding it up. ‘You know, I didn’t tell him I’d found them. I was pregnant, felt like death, and this didn’t help,’ she said, shaking the letter in front of me.

‘Jesus,’ I said, holding my hands on my head as I leant my elbows on his desk.

‘I’m assuming you know about our daughter,’ she said.

‘Yes. I know. I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine—’

‘No, you can’t. Don’t even try. You won’t come close,’ she spat. ‘I should have guessed he would have told you. It’s just me he doesn’t talk to.’ She shook her head and the steely calm disappeared, leaving behind a nervous leg kick and trembling mouth. ‘I was being nosy one day. He had some papers lying across the desk and I was missing the buzz of casework, so I picked them up. Supervision notes. Yours. Imagine my surprise when I saw your name,’ she said, smiling again. ‘Do you have any idea how it felt finding out that the fresh start he’d promised wasn’t a fresh start at all? He’d sought you out. Couldn’t live without you it seems.’

‘He didn’t know I was working in this team. He was as shocked as I was.’

‘Abi, give me more credit. I’m not stupid. If he didn’t know, he was certainly hoping.’ She set her eyes to the floor before looking directly at me. ‘He’s beautiful, isn’t he?’

‘I’m not going to answer that.’

‘You don’t need to. I’ve read your letters, remember?’ she said in a cocky tone she hadn’t shown before. ‘I loved the little drawing. Infinity. He would never tell me what his tattoo meant. I’d guessed it was a past love, and then it all made sense once I read these.’ She held the letters up again. ‘Very romantic.’

‘I was shocked when he showed it to me. I didn’t know. It was just a way to remember what we had.’

‘When did you see his tattoo?’ she asked, her eyes widening and her mouth opening in shock.

‘I…erm…we…’ I stuttered and stammered knowing I’d just landed myself in a whole heap of trouble. Honesty overruled thought. ‘He showed it to me. We were on a training conference together and he showed it me. Nothing happened. Nothing,’ I said, shaking my head at the awful awkwardness of it all.

‘The conference where he was speaking? The overnighter? The night I…’ She stopped herself as realisation dawned on her that it was the same night she had been admitted to hospital. ‘Oh my God.’ She dropped her head, causing her curls to fall across her face. She was silent for what seemed like minutes. ‘You have the same tattoo?’ She laughed bitterly before I could answer. ‘Of course you do.’

‘I’m sure this isn’t easy for you, but I promise you that nothing has happened between us. He told me he was married and I’d never come between that. I’ve asked for a transfer. I’m leaving next week.’

‘You were already between us, Abi. Always have been.’

She stopped talking as I covered my mouth with the tips of my fingers and took in the heavy words. My hearing was heightened and I sighed in despair for the heartbroken woman in front of me. I could hear short bursts from her as she tried to calm her breathing.

‘He was never mine, was he?’

‘You need to ask him,’ I replied on a whisper. ‘I can’t answer that.’

‘I knew when he agreed to marry me that he didn’t love me. I was hoping he would grow to.’ She looked to the floor. ‘When I read the letters, I knew that we would never share a love like yours.’ She wiped her hand delicately across her nose and reached into her bag for a packet of tissues. ‘I always knew.’ She cleared her throat and visibly straightened her shoulders. ‘It’s been nice to finally put a face to a name, but I think we’re done here.’

Suddenly, Jamie’s door swung open with such force it made me jump. ‘Clara! What are you doing?’ he asked, troubled and confused.

‘I’m not here to see you, Jamie. I’m here to see Abi.’

‘Why?’

‘Oh, come on,’ she said, turning to face him. ‘Don’t pretend you don’t know. We’ve come to the end, haven’t we? I think we all know that.’

He studied her face, his eyebrows squeezing together creating a look of what the fuck? before changing completely into a look of defeat as he dropped his head when she held up the letters.

‘Abi, if you could leave us. Jamie and I have some talking to do.’

I slowly stood and ran my hands down my trouser legs, smoothing out the fabric in a pathetic attempt to delay leaving the room. As I walked towards the door, I stopped at her side, but she didn’t attempt to look up or speak. She just sat with a look of sorrow and hurt.

Jamie was waiting beside the door, rubbing his neck with his hand, his face contorted in a look of pain and anxiety. I walked past and silently gasped as he lightly brushed my fingers with his before closing the door behind me.