Annabel continued to push her food around her plate; she knew Katy and Rebecca had meant well. She also knew they were right, ending her arrangement with Dan didn’t mean she had to stop having fun with friends and family. However, turning up, intervention style, to drag her out into the big, wide world hadn’t really been a good idea, no matter what their intention.

After realising she should have stood her ground more and simply point blank refused, Annabel wished she was back in the confines of home. At least there she didn’t have to pretend she was having a good time, she could be as miserable as her heart desired.

She had to give them their due though. So far, Katy and Rebecca hadn’t once mentioned the state of play with Dan. Up to now, topics had included anything but. They’d covered the weather, morning sickness, and the fantastic sales on the high street; their current conversation centred on the latest new movies, which ones to see and which to avoid. Not that Annabel had anything in particular to contribute. She hadn’t watched a film on the telly recently, never mind taken herself off to the big screen.

She zoned out of Katy and Rebecca’s chit-chat altogether and glanced around at her surroundings. Waiting staff, dressed in their all black uniforms, busily flittered about. Cheerful throughout, they delivered the restaurant’s take on home cooked food to some tables, while clearing empty plates away from others. She took in the décor. With its open fires, wooden flooring, and cottage-like theme it looked pleasant enough. Warm and cosy even, thanks to the autumnal colour scheme. A quick peek out of the window, however, revealed its true colours. The adjacent cinema complex and ten pin bowling centre did nothing to counter the fact that a country pub without the countryside didn’t work. The place was trying to be something it wasn’t.

A bit like herself really, thought Annabel, as she sat there with an empty smile on her face while nodding and shaking her head in all the right places; she tried to give off the right vibe without an ounce of authenticity. Not that anyone else seemed to notice the façade, she acknowledged; neither her own nor the building’s.

Annabel found herself thinking about Dan. She wondered if he was coping alright; after all, his mother’s condition was bound to have worsened. She recalled his face the last time they talked. He seemed disappointed to hear her breaking off their arrangement, but at the same time had to acknowledge it was probably for the best. Apparently, he’d been coming to the same conclusion himself since meeting Maeve. Annabel didn’t tell him that she’d seen them together, she didn’t see the point. He’d accepted their arrangement had come to an end and she supposed, in the end, that was all that mattered. She took a deep breath and exhaled. Finally, she could put a name to the long legged, long haired blonde. Annabel pictured them together. They made a handsome couple and she hoped things worked out for the two of them. The proverbial happy ever after being the least Dan deserved.

‘Are you going to eat that?’ asked Rebecca. ‘Or just keep playing with it?’

‘Sorry?’ said Annabel, her attention suddenly caught. She followed her sister’s gaze to her plate. ‘Apologies, I’m just not very hungry.’ At last, she set her fork down.

‘Why don’t you just call him?’ asked Katy.

‘Call who?’

‘You know who,’ said Rebecca.

‘Dan.’ said her friend. Not that she really had to point out the obvious. ‘That is who you’re thinking about, isn’t it?’

Annabel picked up her wine glass. It seemed she’d spoken too soon with regards to their silence on the subject. They both might not mean to go on, but as far as she was concerned, they were beginning to sound like a broken record. Why couldn’t they just accept her dealings with Dan were a thing of the past, no matter how many times they suggested otherwise? ‘Like I keep telling you, I’ve made my decision and there’s no going back.’

Much to Annabel’s annoyance, her sister rolled her eyes not even attempting to hide her frustration.

‘Really?’ said Katy. ‘Because from where I’m sitting, going backwards is exactly what you are doing.’

‘And I have to agree,’ Rebecca joined in.

Annabel sighed. ‘Now there’s a surprise.’

‘Oh come on, look at it from our point of view,’ said her sister. ‘It took a while, but after all the heartache, we finally get a chance to see the real you again. The Annabel that laughs and jokes and isn’t afraid to show herself up. Then just as quickly as you reappear, puff!’ She flicked her fingers out like some sort of magician. ‘You, the woman we all know and love, are back to locking yourself away in that house of yours as if the outside world doesn’t exist.’

Annabel didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t argue. She’d surprised herself at how quickly and easily she’d managed to fall back into her routine.

‘And all in the toss of a coin,’ said Katy.

Rebecca put her hand up in disdain. ‘Don’t remind me,’ she said. ‘Have you ever heard anything so ridiculous?’

It was clear the two of them were never going to give up and Annabel felt cornered, forced to question if this had been on tonight’s agenda all along. To pretend all was well until they got her on neutral ground. Unlike at home, in public she’d have to listen to them and, with a bit of luck on their part, come to her senses. ‘It might seem ridiculous to you,’ she said. ‘But it makes perfect sense to me.’

‘Does it?’ asked Katy. ‘Because I don’t believe you.’

As usual, it seemed Annabel was talking to herself.

‘I think you’re running scared. I think you started out on this journey with Dan thinking you wanted one thing and then you realised you wanted something else. Yes, a baby would give you someone to love and yes, that love would be reciprocated. I get that. But we both know a baby isn’t enough anymore, why else would you call this pregnancy thing off? You want the whole package and that freaks you out.’

Annabel took a sip of her wine. The evening was going from bad to worse, and fast. The last thing she needed was another lecture. The last thing she needed was someone telling her how she felt. ‘I almost had the whole package with Tom,’ she said. ‘And look where that got me. As for your scoffing, Rebecca, be it a penny or a couple of quid, people put their futures in the hands of the Money Gods all the time. You only have to look to the lottery to see that.’

‘What? And now that these Money Gods have spoken, we’re supposed to just accept it, are we? We’re supposed to get on with our lives knowing you’re sitting in front of the box night after night turning into some sort of amoeba? You’ll be telling me you’re going to get a cat next.’

‘Funny you should say that,’ said Annabel.

Desperate to change the subject, she knew she was just being mean, that she didn’t really have any such plan. But her sister hated cats with a passion and Annabel knew that to even imply getting a feline friend would be enough to send the woman off on a tangent.

‘Jesus,’ said Rebecca, true to form. ‘Mrs. Miggins down the street got a cat when her husband died.’

Annabel sat back, relieved to see her cunning plan play out.

‘Granted she’s a lot older than you, but one soon turned into two and then three and you know what cats are like. Before anyone knew it, she had a house full.’ She pursed her lips, shuddering at the thought. ‘Talk about a giant litter tray.’

‘Look,’ said her friend, keen to get their original discussion back on track. ‘We all know how special Tom was.’

Bugger! thought Annabel. Trust her to bring things into line.

‘Even though he’s no longer here, how special he still is. And what happened, well it’s beyond words. But that doesn’t mean you can’t find happiness again, Annabel.’

‘For my sake as much as yours,’ added Rebecca, obviously still pre-occupied with all things moggy.

Annabel almost laughed. Talk about a pair of hypocrites. It didn’t seem too long ago that one of the women before her thought she was still grieving, while the other insisted she’d lost the plot. As for their dislike for Dan, they’d had him down as some sort of bad influence.

‘What do you think Tom would say if he saw you like this?’ asked Katy. ‘Would he want you to just give up?’

‘Because it doesn’t stop at the cats, you know,’ her sister carried on. ‘Before long you’ll be wearing floppy hats and hoarding pile after pile of newspapers.’

‘To think, my own sister, a cat lady,’ added Rebecca. ‘I need a drink.’

Before she could protest, Annabel’s glass was snatched from her hand. She watched on, wide eyed, as her pregnant sister began downing its contents.

‘Thank you,’ said Annabel. For the baby’s benefit if not the mother’s, she quickly re-claimed her now half-empty glass.

‘Then you’ll stop leaving the house altogether like some sort of hermit,’ said Rebecca. ‘And let’s face it, when it comes to the life of a recluse, you’re already half-way there.’

Annabel stared at her sister, unsure whether to laugh or feel offended. She supposed it was her own fault, a part of her even felt a bit guilty. In her desire to the change the subject she’d obviously pushed the poor woman over the edge. However, in her condition, it probably didn’t help that her hormones were all over the place.

Annabel returned her attention to Katy and decided it best to ignore Rebecca and her cat complaints altogether. ‘I know exactly what Tom would say,’ she said. ‘But we’re not talking about him, are we? We’re talking about me.’

* * *

Sitting in one of the armchairs in the lounge, Dan quietly watched over his mother as she slept on the sofa. She seemed so at peace when asleep, to the point that Dan wished sleep would come to her more often. It had to be a welcome relief from the increasing agitation she experienced when awake, a sure sign that her medication was losing its power over the pain. One of the reasons he wanted his mum to listen when he suggested she might be more comfortable upstairs. But as always, the very idea had been poo-pooed. Taking to her bed, as his mother put it, would be too much like giving in. Although Dan wasn’t stupid, he knew her reluctance had more to do with the actual climbing of the staircase itself.

He continued to observe his mum and found himself insisting he’d give anything to take away her suffering. Offered the chance, he’d exchange places with her in an instant.

He took in the photo album lying on the coffee table, wondering which of her memories she’d been reminiscing about today. She’d taken to going through their many snapshots just before her naps, almost as if she wanted to impress each and every image to mind should she not wake up. He leaned forward and reached for the album to see for himself; his sudden movement causing his mother to stir. He stopped, holding his breath as he willed her to stay asleep and, much to his relief, she seemed to settle back down.

Dan picked up the album and, after getting himself comfortable in the armchair again, began slowly turning its pages. He couldn’t help but smile as, photo after photo, his mum and dad stared back at him. In some of them they were goofing around, in others there was definitely a bit of posing going on. Throughout though, they were clearly at ease in front of the camera and no one could deny the feelings they had for each other, their togetherness leapt off of the pages. The family of two soon turned to three and Dan started to recognise himself in the photos. He’d been too young to remember when any of them were taken, but his parent’s clearly adored him. In every shot, their love for him was as evident as their love for each other.

‘What time is it?’ his mum suddenly asked.

Surprised that his mother had awoken, Dan let the photo album rest on his lap. He checked the clock on the mantelpiece. Disappointingly, she’d slept for less than an hour. ‘Almost six-thirty,’ he replied.

‘Shouldn’t you be getting ready by now?’ she said. She gradually eased herself into a more upright position.

‘There’s no rush.’

‘Still, it’s a big night and you need to look your best.’

Dan didn’t want to even think about the evening ahead. There was no getting out of it, of course, which did nothing to help his sense of foreboding. But at least he could delay the inevitable for a little while longer.

‘I know,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry. I will.’

He raised the album and continued to browse its pages.

‘It’s funny how the brain works,’ said his mum. ‘I can forget what I’m doing from one minute to the next, yet I remember each and every one of those photos being taken like it was only yesterday.’

‘That’s old age for you,’ said Dan.

His mum laughed. ‘I wouldn’t mock,’ she replied. ‘It comes to us all eventually.’

She indicated for him to pass her the album, and Dan joined her on the sofa. Perching himself on the edge, he angled it so that they could both see the images without her having to move too much.

‘Now this,’ said his mum, pointing to one photograph in particular. ‘Is one of my favourites. You were two years old and it was the first time we’d taken you to the beach. Boy, did you hate it.’

Dan stared at the young child in the picture. With his unruly blonde hair, big blues eyes, and great big smile, it was fair to say he’d been cute back in the day. Sitting in a deckchair, his shoeless, podgy feet just about hung over the edge of the seat and his arm was outstretched, as if pointing to something out of shot. Surrounded by blue skies and the orange sand typical of many UK beaches, it seemed your usual family outing. ‘I look happy enough,’ he said.

‘That’s because you’re sitting down,’ his mum replied. ‘It was the sand you didn’t like. Every time we put you on your feet, you froze for a second before bursting into tears. You were so funny. We put it down to you not liking the feel of the stuff. You were the same with grass for a while too.’

Dan smiled. He couldn’t remember a second of it. ‘Those were the days, eh?’

‘They certainly were.’

They carried on browsing for a while; Dan listened intently as his mum animatedly filled in the details of this photograph and that photograph. She seemed in her element back then, and now. Dan smiled, able to understand why. The images proved just how good life had been. Perfect, in fact, the way his mother told it.

He began to wonder if he, himself, would be ever lucky enough to experience this. In years to come, would he sit on a sofa with his own children, looking back on a lifetime of memories filled with real love? At the moment, it was hard to imagine. He struggled to get his head around the possibility that he and Maeve could ever share the depth of feeling that his parents had shared. He just had to hope that, in time, things would change, that he’d start to think about Maeve in the same way he thought about Annabel. His heart sank. Funny how he could only admit his strength of feeling for the woman once they’d called things off.

‘Are you okay?’ asked his mum.

Dan fixed a smile on his face. ‘I’m fine. Why do you ask?’

‘You have that faraway look in your eyes again,’ she replied. ‘Anything you want to talk about.’

She’d accused him of that a lot these last couple of weeks, but Dan didn’t see the point in talking. He’d made his decision, even before Annabel suggested they call it a day.

He pictured Annabel’s face the last time they’d met. He could have sworn she’d been disappointed when he agreed it was probably for the best. He realised he’d imagined it, of course; foolish wishful thinking that she might feel for him what he felt for her. He took a deep breath, determined to dismiss all thoughts of the woman from his head.

‘I’m just a bit nervous about tonight,’ he said. ‘Meeting Missy for the first time and all that.’

‘Why don’t I believe you?’ asked his mum.

As she searched his face for the truth, Dan suddenly felt self-conscious. The truth was the last thing his mother needed to know and he quickly handed her the album ready to leave the room. ‘I suppose I should go get a move on,’ he said. ‘Time to get ready.’

His mother suddenly appeared concerned and, gently placing a hand on his leg, she prevented him from going anywhere. ‘I’ve been very silly, haven’t I?’ she asked.

‘What are you talking about?’ replied Dan. ‘Silly about what?’

‘About the whole caboodle, for thinking I know what’s best. You don’t really want a future with Maeve, do you? And I think we both know why.’

Sitting there, all pretence seemed to suddenly desert him. Dan felt as sick of lying to himself, as much as he did lying to his mother. But he still couldn’t bring himself to answer the question. His mum was dying and the last thing he wanted was to add to her pain.

He stared at the floor and tears sprung in his eyes as he wished that everything could be different.

‘I only wanted what I thought was best for you,’ said his mum.

‘I know,’ he replied.

‘I’m sorry, Dan.’

After wiping his eyes, he finally returned his mother’s gaze. ‘Me too,’ he said. ‘I did try.’

His mum smiled. She held her arms out for a hug, Dan could see she needed it as much as he did.

‘That’s settled then,’ she said, eventually pulling away. ‘We’ll have no more of it.’

‘But … ‘

‘No buts. You’re the person I care about here, no one else. Besides, if Missy is half the friend I think she is, she’ll more than understand. And so will Maeve.’

The relief Dan felt was enormous. At last, he could breathe a bit easier again.

‘Fancy looking at some more photos?’ asked his mum. ‘Before supper.’

Dan nodded as she re-opened the album and, proving herself true to her word, it seemed that was the end of the matter.

‘Now this one,’ said his mum ‘is of me and your father on our wedding anniversary.’

Dan stared at the image; his mum and dad were raising a glass of bubbly for the camera. It was a cute picture. His mother, with her head thrown back, was laughing as his father whispered something in her ear. Dan sighed. Looking at how happy the two of them were, he couldn’t help but think of Annabel.