The Reunion

that I couldn’t get past was how casually I’d treated it, how carelessly. Months before he died I betrayed him, and I got rid of his child as though it were nothing. I treated what I had as though it were dispensable. Replaceable. As though
he
were replaceable.’ She was gripping Lilah’s hand so hard it hurt. ‘For years I couldn’t get over that. I felt as though I deserved everything I got, that I deserved to be lonely, to be punished. And now I just keep thinking, what if I’d stayed, what if I hadn’t run away? Maybe things would have been different, maybe I could have…’
    ‘Could have what? Held us all together?’ Lilah shook her head. ‘No, you couldn’t, Jen. You think that if you’d been around that Andrew and Nat wouldn’t have fallen in love, or Dan wouldn’t have written his film or a million other things wouldn’t have happened to pull us apart. We were
twenty-something
, for God’s sake. You don’t stay friends with the people you love when you’re twenty. Or if you do, you’re very lucky. I think it’s a miracle, quite frankly, that we’re all talking to each other now.’
    They sat quietly for a minute or two, then Lilah said: ‘I meant what I said before, Jen. Don’t ever tell Dan about the child. And don’t tell Andrew either. It’s not the same for them, they won’t understand. And Dan will feel it as a loss, no matter that you don’t know whether the child was his, no matter that even if it was, he probably wouldn’t have wanted it at twenty-four. You don’t have to be honest about everything in relationships, Jen. That’s a lie, it’s a Hollywood lie. If the truth is all that’s holding you back, just let go of it.’
    Jen went for a swim, Nat went to buy ice creams. Lilah dozed in the sun, watching spots of orange and flashes of purple make patterns in the darkness. Then a flash of blinding, agonising white.
    She woke up with what felt like a hangover, head aching, hands trembling, white lines wavering at the edge of her vision. She asked for her ice cream.
    ‘I ate it,’ Nat said sheepishly. ‘You’ve been asleep for three quarters of an hour. You want me to go and get another one?’
    ‘Just water would be good.’
    Nat handed her the bottle. It hurt to swallow; she wondered whether she was getting a throat infection, or whether she’d just fallen asleep with her mouth open. ‘Jen still swimming?’ she asked.
    ‘No, she went for a walk, over to the other end of the beach. I think she’s gone in search of a place to have lunch. Are you hungry?’
    ‘Not really,’ Lilah said. The thought of getting up and making her way to a restaurant made her feel weary. Hell, the thought of having to chew her food made her feel weary. If she could just stay here, in the sun. That would be good.
    ‘Come and sit by me, Nat,’ she said.
    Natalie shuffled her deckchair over so that they were sitting side by side. Lilah leaned in closer to her and whispered, ‘You have to fix it, Nat. This thing with Andrew. You have to fix it.’
    ‘We will, Lilo,’ she said, patting Lilah’s hand. ‘Don’t worry about us.’
    ‘Don’t patronise me, Natalie,’ Lilah said, withdrawing her hand. ‘I’m serious.’
    ‘I know you are. I know. I’ll… well, I can’t promise, can I? But I’ll do my best.’
    ‘That’s not good enough. You have to promise me. You have to fix it for me.’
    ‘Lilah, don’t get upset. It’ll be all right. We’re not going to get divorced. OK? Nothing bad’s going to happen. We just have things to work through, and we have to find a way to do it, we have to find time to do it. It’s not that easy, you know, when he’s working hard, and I’m dealing with the girls, and there always seems to be so much to do at home…’
    ‘Don’t. Don’t do that, don’t claim you don’t have time to fix this, to fix the most important thing you have.’
    ‘OK. You’re right.’ Natalie looked nervous; she was looking at Lilah’s face, studying it. ‘Lilah, do you want to go?’
    Lilah shook her head, took another sip of her water. She felt as though the sand were shifting beneath her, the horizon tilting. Head shaking was a bad thing, she should remember that.
    ‘I need to tell you something,’ she whispered.
    ‘What’s that, Lilo?’
    ‘About that night, in December, at the B&B.’
    Natalie smiled at her, a half-smile, indulgent.
    ‘Don’t, Lilo. It’s all right.’
    ‘I want to tell you…’
    ‘I don’t want to know.’ She