‘Karen, I’m the one who’s been fired.’
Karen looked at her wide-eyed. No micro-expressions, no evasion; it was all there to see. She wasn’t surprised to hear that Amy had been kicked out; in fact she had been expecting it.
‘She did it,’ she said, her voice almost a whisper.
‘Did what?’
Karen gave her a look of disdain, one Amy recognised from all those years ago. She had always been the streetwise one, the cynic, and she reserved her most withering look for Amy: so easy to fool, always sucked in, innocent and trusting. ‘No one’s going to give you anything, Ames,’ she would say. ‘You have to take it for yourself.’ It was one of the things – along with French kissing and rolling fags – that Amy had learned from Karen, and the one thing she had packed in her suitcase when she had shipped out to Oxford. And of course Karen would have taught the very same lesson to her daughter, wouldn’t she? If nothing else, that would be the one thing Karen would pass on. Take it for yourself, Josie.
‘She got what she wanted.’
Amy nodded to herself. She had been right all along, no matter what Pog or Claire or David or Max had said.
‘Karen, I saw Pog last night,’ she said.
‘Pog? That posh bloke from the Oxford house? What’s he doing these days?’
Amy didn’t want to be diverted. ‘He told me about that night at the ball.’
Karen didn’t react. Not even a flinch. Amy sat forward, determined to get it all out.
‘He said he saw you and David . . .’ She trailed off. Say it, say it. ‘He said he saw you two making out.’
Karen blinked at her, then burst out laughing. ‘That’s what this is about? You’ve just lost your job and yet you’re worried your precious David might have shagged some other girl twenty years ago? Christ, Amy. Haven’t you got anything better to worry about? Is there really that much money in the bank?’
Anger rose in Amy. It was funny how with old friends you slipped so easily into ancient roles so long left behind. She had forgotten how Karen used to put her down, belittle her. But not now, not any more.
‘I’m not asking you if you shagged my husband twenty years ago. I’m asking if he’s Josie’s father.’
Karen’s jaw dropped. ‘Josie’s father?’ She shook her head slowly, then gave a bitter laugh. ‘I don’t know what Pog thinks he saw, but if he thinks he saw that, he got it wrong. David and I . . . We were pissed, we fancied each other, yeah. We even snogged for a bit, but . . .’ She closed her eyes, as if she was reluctant to say it. ‘We didn’t do it, Amy. In fact, David stopped because of you.’
‘Me?’
Her mouth twisted into a sneer. ‘The old story: he was kissing me, but thinking of you. It was you he wanted all along.’
Amy sat there, stunned, not knowing what to say, relief flooding every cell. David wasn’t Josie’s dad: he’d turned Karen down for her, he’d wanted her even then. And then another emotion replaced the relief and she wanted to bang her stupid head on the table. She’d been such an idiot. Maybe she simply didn’t deserve David.
‘So if David isn’t her father, why would Josie want to hurt me?’
‘Why not?’ Karen swept an arm around the run-down pub. ‘Look at this bloody place, Amy. Does it look any better to you now than it did when you left? No, it’s still a shithole, it will always be a shithole.’
‘But what’s that got to do with me?’
Karen pointed a calloused finger at her. ‘You got out. You’ve lived a charmed bloody life, haven’t you?’
‘But Josie got out too; she went to uni.’
Karen laughed. ‘Did she hell.’
‘But you said . . .’
‘Typical Amy. Always looking at the big picture, never checking the details. Josie left school at sixteen – was asked to leave, truth be told. She worked at the leisure centre for a bit, until they closed that down. Then bar work where she could get it, but mostly she brooded. About you.’
‘Me? What did I ever do to her?’
Karen sat forward, her eyes blazing. ‘What did you ever do?’ she spat. ‘What did you do, Amy? Did you ever come to see us, ever send her a birthday card, even take the time to friend either of us on bloody Facebook? Did you? The times she used to ask me when Auntie Amy was going to come and see us, and I got tired of making excuses. I told her the truth. That you’d outgrown the little people like me and her.’
Amy pressed back into her chair, genuinely stunned.