oe. Drive me home.”

“What?” Joe is helping himself to a Scotch and doing his best to avoid Kay. He walks into the dining room, she walks out. She walks into the kitchen, he walks out. Right now the living room is out of bounds, and Joe is pouring himself a stiff single malt to soothe the pain of rejection. He turns to see Emily, her face ashen and her coat on, standing behind him.

“What are you talking about? Where are the others?”

“I don’t know but I don’t feel well. I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Oh God, Emily, I’m sorry. Are you sure you don’t want to lie down here? I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”

“No. I want to go back.” She sighs impatiently and lies, “Joe, I have medicine back at the house that I need. Please just drop me off, then you can come back.”

“Okay. Hang on. God knows where Alice is. Let me just tell Sally where we’re going.”

“Fine. Give me the keys. I’ll wait in the car.”

Emily would never normally dream of leaving a party without thanking the hostess, but this isn’t any old party, and she can’t be expected to behave as she normally would. She sits in the passenger seat of the car, shivering, cold and numb with shock. If you had told Emily that she would catch her best friend and her boyfriend locked in a passionate kiss, she would have said that it was impossible, it would never happen.

If you had persisted, she would have said that she would go nuts.

She would have said that she would stand there and scream at them. Ask them what the fuck they think they’re doing. Slap Harry round the face. Hell, she might even slap Alice while she’s at it.

And yet here she is, sitting shivering in a car, unable to do anything, feeling completely numb. Even though she saw it with her own eyes, she still can’t quite believe it actually happened, and she sits replaying the scene like a film, wondering whether or not it might have been a bad dream.

But no. They might have been far away, but no one could have mistaken what they were doing. Emily saw, even in that split second before they pulled apart, how Harry was on top of Alice, his eyes closed, his hands entwined in her hair as he kissed her. Emily saw Alice running her hands up Harry’s strong back, the back Emily knows so well, and Emily suppresses a sob that starts to rise in her throat.

No. She will not cry in front of anyone. She will not cry in front of Joe. She just needs to get away from everyone. Needs to get away from Harry and Alice.

“Joe? Where are you going?” Alice’s heart jumps into her mouth as she runs back in to find Emily and sees Joe with his coat on, car keys in hand.

“Where’ve you been?”

Alice just looks at him. Could Emily have told him already? Is he testing her? She stands still and eventually shrugs. “In the garden.”

“But it’s freezing!” Joe laughs, and Alice relaxes slightly. He doesn’t know. But oh God. Emily. Her best friend. She’d rather die than hurt Emily, and she has no idea what just happened outside. She only knows she now feels sick, and sorry, and lost.

“Where are you going?” Alice says. “Where’s Emily?”

“She’s not feeling well,” Joe says over his shoulder as he walks toward the door. “I’m just going to run her home.”

“Wait! I’ll come too.” Alice runs toward him but Joe shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about her. She’s fine. Just needs to get some kind of medicine she left at home. You and Harry stay. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“No... wait...” But Joe has already disappeared out of the front door.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay? You don’t look at all well.” Joe opens the front door of their house then turns to look at Emily with concern, as Emily manages to force a smile.

“I think maybe it’s just jet lag and exhaustion catching up with me. I’m sure I’ll feel better once I lie down.”

“You sure you don’t mind if I go back and leave you alone?”

Oh God. Alone. She’s alone again. Emily turns away so Joe doesn’t see the stricken look on her face and she nods, not trusting herself to speak.

“Okay. See you tomorrow. Wish you better.” And Joe closes the door gently behind him and heads back to the party.

“Shit.” Harry says again. For the umpteenth time.

“What are we going to do?” Alice and Harry are standing miserably in the corner of the kitchen. The alcohol consumed by everyone else here seems to be taking effect. Chris has swapped Frank Sinatra for pumping pop, the lights, already darkened, have been darkened even more, and the living room has now become a dance floor with various couples letting their hair down.

“Harry, I feel sick. I don’t know what happened out there.” Alice, now completely sober, completely lost, is mystified at the kiss and distraught at the look on Emily’s face, at how much she knows she has hurt Emily. “I mean, nothing happened. It was nothing!” She says it vehemently, perhaps trying to convince herself, and then in a small voice she looks at Harry helplessly. “I don’t know what to do.”

Harry stays silent. He knows what happened out there. He may have been stoned, but every time he looks at Alice he wants to take her in his arms and hold her.

He never felt this when he knew her in London. Sure, he liked her, and yes, of course he thought she was attractive, but he knew they were worlds apart, and women like Alice were simply not his cup of tea.

Plus of course he was happy with Emily, too happy even to think about other women. But as the months have gone by he’s found that his relationship with Emily is making him less and less happy, that they seem to be less and less compatible.

At first he was worried by Emily’s increasing apathy toward him, but her distance and moodiness have made him realize that she’s not the woman with whom he wants to spend the rest of his life, and he’s well aware that it’s laziness and habit that are keeping them together.

Part of him hasn’t wanted to admit the relationship hasn’t been working. And much like Emily, he had viewed this holiday as a last-ditch attempt, a make-or-break. But nothing had prepared him for seeing Alice again. From the moment he first laid eyes on her in America he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about her.

He has never realized before how funny she is. How self-deprecating she is able to be. How she doesn’t seem to take anything too seriously. But mostly he has been watching her in the house, playing with Snoop, preparing breakfast in the kitchen, and the more he has watched, the more beautiful he finds her.

Just as he said the other day, she does have a glow. It makes him want to follow her around, bask in the happiness she radiates. And Joe seems to be completely unaware of her. Harry can see that he treats her as a trophy wife, is happy to be affectionate to her in public, to show her off at parties like this one tonight, but he barely pays any attention to her.

Christ, he’s barely paid any attention to any of them. In spite of having guests in his house, Joe has spent most of the time stuck in front of his computer while Alice has done everything.

And until tonight Harry hasn’t realized quite how hard he’s fallen. He had thought perhaps he just liked her very much, appreciated her as a friend, even though he found himself lying in bed after Emily had fallen asleep replaying things that Alice had said throughout the day, things that had made him laugh.

Tonight, when he went outside for a smoke and found that Alice was already sitting on the bench, his heart leapt, and he knew then that his feelings were real, that he wasn’t merely attempting to get on with his girlfriend’s best friend.

But even he had been unprepared for what happened. Could anything possibly be more complicated or more difficult, or more out of bounds?

He had been thrilled to find Alice on the bench, but had never expected, never dreamed, that anything might happen between them.

And then, lying next to her on the grass, he couldn’t help but keep hold of her hand, and when she had responded by gently stroking his fingers with her own, he had known that there would be no going back. Not for him at any rate.

But here she is now, less than fifteen minutes later, telling him it was nothing. Harry feels like everything he has ever wanted, everything he has ever known would make him happy in life, is about to slip out of his grasp, and he doesn’t know what to do. He wants to put his arms around her and tell her that it’s going to be okay. That as long as they are together nothing else matters.

But of course he doesn’t say that. He simply looks at her as she tells him it was nothing. It meant nothing.

“What are we going to do?” Alice says again. “Should we go home?”

“I think I should talk to her first,” Harry says. “I’ll explain. Tell her we were stoned and drunk and it was just one kiss and it really didn’t mean anything.”

“No. I should be the one to say that.”

Harry shrugs. At this point he really couldn’t care less. All he can think is that Alice thinks it meant nothing.

“Or should I? I just don’t know. Oh, shit. Do you think she’ll tell Joe?”

Harry shakes his head. He’d love for Emily to tell Joe, for Joe and Alice to split up to give him and Alice a chance, but that is the stuff of fantasy, and he knows that isn’t going to happen. “No. It’s not Emily’s style, and you know her far better than I, Alice. She won’t tell him.”

“No.” Alice sighs with relief. “You’re probably right. She won’t. Oh God, Harry. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be silly,” Harry says. “You haven’t got anything to apologize for. If anything I should be the one saying sorry.”

“No. You haven’t got anything to apologize for. It just happened.”

“Yes,” Harry nods, forcing a smile. “It meant nothing.”

“Exactly. Nothing.”

Joe walks back into the party, almost colliding with Kay, and he turns in the direction of the kitchen, wishing he could have stayed at home. Bloody awful parochial party, he thinks, pausing to watch the people try to rediscover their younger, funkier selves in the living room/disco.

“There you two are,” Joe says, seeing Alice and Harry in the corner of the kitchen.

“How’s Emily?” they both say in unison.

“She doesn’t look too good but she thinks it’s probably just exhaustion. I think she’s going to bed.”

“I think we ought to go home and look after her,” Alice says.

“Good idea,” Harry and Joe say together, neither of them wanting to stay a minute longer at the party.

“Great. Let’s find Sally and Chris and say good-bye.”

Alice knocks softly on the bedroom door.

“Emily? Can I come in?”

There’s a silence. Alice tries again. The men are downstairs having a drink and watching some late-night television, and Alice has decided she must be the one to brave this.

“Emily? Em? Are you awake?”

Still silence as Alice pushes open the door. The room is dark and Emily is in bed, but Alice can tell she is only pretending to be asleep, her breathing is too slow, too measured, and Alice walks over to the bed and sits down.

“Go away,” Emily says, rolling over. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Oh, Em.” Alice’s eyes fill with tears. “We have to talk about this. It was nothing. It’s not what you think.”

Emily rolls back over and sits up looking at Alice in disbelief. “You mean I didn’t actually see my best friend of thirty years rolling around on the grass locked in a passionate embrace with my boyfriend?” she spits viciously.

“It wasn’t passionate. And we weren’t rolling on the grass.” For a second Alice thinks back to what they were doing. And she’s not lying, it wasn’t passionate. It was gentle, and soft, and lovely. It felt as if she’d come home.

She pushes this thought aside. “Em, we were both completely stoned and we were lying there looking at the sky and then it just happened. I promise it didn’t mean anything. Em, I didn’t even know what day of the week it was, let alone who I was kissing. And it only lasted a second. I swear to God if you’d come out a second later it would have been over.”

“Well, we’ll never know that now, will we?” Emily says. “Of course it only lasted a second. You were caught, remember?”

“Em, please. I love you more than anyone else in the world, and I would never do anything to hurt you....”

“But, Alice,” Emily says softly. “You just did. You kissed my boyfriend.”

“Emily, it was a kiss. I didn’t sleep with him, for God’s sake, it was a nothing kiss, and you of all people know how meaningless a kiss can be. Remember when we were young, remember those kissing competitions we’d have with the boys? God, a kiss is nothing. And second”—she refuses to give Emily a chance to interrupt—“second you’re acting as if Harry is the big love of your life when you’re already planning on replacing him with Colin.”

Emily gasps. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Oh God, Emily, I’m sorry, but you can’t pretend that Harry’s the one when he clearly isn’t.”

Emily’s voice is as cold as ice. “How dare you presume to draw conclusions about my relationship? And whether Harry is the one or not—as it happens, I hadn’t even reached a conclusion about that—what gives you the right to pounce on him? Not forgetting, by the way, your own marital status.”

Alice looks down at the floor. “You didn’t tell Joe, did you?”

“No, of course I didn’t tell Joe. I may be stupid enough not to realize that my best friend and my boyfriend fancy one another, but I’m not that much of a bitch.”

Alice keeps looking at the floor, as Emily looks up at the ceiling.

The minutes tick by.

“Look, I really don’t want to have to talk about this anymore,” Emily says.

“But what are we going to do? We can’t leave it like this. I feel sick. I don’t want to lose you, Emily. I love you.”

“Well, you should have thought of that before.” Emily sighs. “I just feel so incredibly hurt, and the only reason I haven’t left this house altogether is because we’re in the middle of bloody nowhere and I haven’t got anywhere to go.”

“You’re leaving tomorrow anyway,” Alice says. “You couldn’t leave now. I wish you’d talk about it, Emily. I can’t let you leave with this awful feeling between us.”

“Perhaps you should have thought of that before you kissed my boyfriend.” Emily stares at her with cold eyes as Alice flinches. “I’m tired,” Emily continues. “And I need to be on my own. Please go now.”

Alice stands up, the tears welling again. More than anything in the world she’d like to be able to turn back the clock, and failing that, she’d like Emily to put her arms around her and tell her she forgives her.

Neither looks likely to happen.

“Do you think”—Alice pauses in the doorway and looks back at Emily—“do you think you’ll be able to forgive me? Not tonight I mean, but ever?”

“I don’t know,” Emily says. “Please just leave me alone now. Maybe we can talk again in the morning.”