Sarah shook her head. ‘There’s more to this than you realise. There has to be. Jimmy wouldn’t act like that with anyone, let alone you. I know you haven’t seen much of him over the last few years, but trust me on this one. He’s still every bit as much in love with you as he was in high school.’
‘You’re wrong,’ I corrected glumly.
‘We’ll see.’
We’d reached an impasse. There was nothing more to say about that night. So we finally – and thankfully, on my part – moved on to the much less complicated topic of Sarah’s wedding and honeymoon. She had stopped off on the way to the restaurant to collect the proofs of her wedding photos, and once our plates had been cleared, she spread the large album on the table.
Never had I seen a bride look more beautiful and glowing with happiness than Sarah had on that day. As I turned the heavy embossed pages of the album, I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with sadness that I hadn’t been there to share that incredible moment with her. She must have known what I was thinking, and seen the regret in my smile, as my fingers hovered beside a photograph of her and David laughing happily under a falling cloud of confetti.
‘I wanted to postpone the wedding, you know,’ she said softly, ‘when we knew what had happened to you, but your dad and Matt wouldn’t hear of it.’
‘They were quite right. I’d have been furious if you’d done that.’
I carried on turning page after page. Here now were photographs of the reception, the tables beautifully decorated with deep red floral displays which perfectly matched the crimson bows cinched around the back of the chairs.
‘It all looks so beautiful,’ I murmured.
Another page, and here were photographs of the guests, randomly taken after the meal. Matt’s handsome face looked up at me from several group photographs. Jimmy was there too, but always more in the background, not smiling directly towards the camera like my fiancé. I also couldn’t help noticing that in many of the photographs, Cathy was also present, never far away from Matt’s side. I paused to study her exquisite face and caught Sarah watching me.
‘She looked amazing, of course. That dress of hers was so tight she must have been sewn into it!’
I laughed. The deep red gown Cathy wore did indeed look as though it was moulded to her body like a second skin.
‘I think she was trying to upstage me.’
‘Never happen,’ I assured her, but after turning yet another page and seeing Cathy once more cosied up to Matt, this time on the dance floor, I just had to ask, ‘Did she stick by him like this all night?’
Sarah shrugged as though to say she didn’t know, but I could read her better than that. ‘God, she doesn’t miss a trick, does she?’
‘You know Cathy,’ Sarah pronounced.
And I was quiet for a moment. Yes I did know Cathy; but perhaps it was Matt who apparently I might not know that well.
‘And anyway,’ Sarah said, taking the album from me and firmly closing it. ‘It doesn’t matter how much eye-fluttering and cleavage-flashing she tries, you’re still the one he’s engaged to; still the one he’s been with for ever.’
I nodded, but I wasn’t sure a little detail like that would stop Cathy, not if she really set her mind to it.
‘I know you two have been going through a sticky patch in the last few months, but you keep assuring me that’s only about work stuff – not anything serious, not like what happened when you were at uni.’
I sat up sharply in my seat. ‘What? What happened when we were at uni? What are you talking about?’
She jumped guiltily then, and I could see the thought process flashing through her eyes as she considered a means of bluffing her way out of the gaffe she had just made. I repeated the question, trying to keep my voice even and calm.
‘What happened when we were at uni, Sarah? Tell me. It’s not fair that I don’t know.’
The laughter was gone from her voice but I could see that my plea had convinced her to tell me.
‘You and Matt had a major row and broke up for about four months or so in our second year.’
This was indeed news to me. Certainly Matt hadn’t thought to mention it, despite the fact there’d been every opportunity for him to do so when we had been talking about our relationship recently.
‘We broke up? But why? What happened?’
‘I can’t tell you.’
‘Don’t be daft, of course you can tell me,’ I cajoled. ‘I’m not going to get upset, or anything, I just want to know.’
‘No. It’s not that. I mean, I can’t tell you, because I don’t know.’