Forget Me Never

money.’
    ‘Oh, don’t go on, Reece! I was only trying to be helpful.’ She smiled, patting the sofa seat next to her. ‘Why don’t we watch a film together once Neve’s in bed? I could make some popcorn.’
    As I yawned my way through Pride and Prejudice with my mother, I hoped Sophie was OK. She could do funny things when she was in a mood. I sent her an email, and several more texts over the next few days. She didn’t reply. So eventually I decided to leave it. That Saturday I went out with my Berkeley mates rather than to Paloma’s party.
    When the next week went by without any contact from Sophie, I got the message. So I did something I never do and gave up.
    And now, months later, Sophie had emailed me. I didn’t need to mull things over. I knew what my response was going to be.
    Long time no speak, I typed. How’s this afternoon?

SOPHIE
    By the time I got off the bus at Muswell Hill, it was a quarter past five. The Broadway was just as I remembered – but then, why would it have changed? It hadn’t been that long since I’d last been to Reece’s. It was one of the nicest days of summer so far – warm but not sweltering – and I was enjoying the feeling of the sun on my legs. I was wearing denim shorts, a long-sleeved polka-dot top I’d made from what had once been an oversize dress, and a sunhat with a wide brim – all charity-shop stuff.
    Reece’s house was about ten minutes from the Broadway, but he’d asked me to meet him at the school cricket pitch. The club he played for was an independent one but they used Berkeley’s facilities for their practice sessions. This didn’t fit in with my plans of showing him Dani’s photos, but it was easier to come to his neck of the woods – I could always leave if things got too awkward.
    I’d been to Reece’s school several times before. It’s one of those old red-brick buildings with fancy doorway arches and stained-glass windows, and there are statues of former headmasters dotted about the grounds that stare at you disapprovingly. Berkeley is way up the education league tables; you can only go there if you’re loaded.
    I started dragging my feet as I got closer. I felt mixed-up – nervous, hesitant and slightly resentful. I never liked going near Berkeley – it reminded me of just how little I had. And what would it be like seeing Reece again after all this time? Everything to do with him – the memories, the in-jokes – I’d closed myself off from them, put them into a little mental box with a sticker that said ‘over’ on it. I wasn’t sure how it would feel to open that box again. Everything that had happened still hurt. I knew Reece probably didn’t see it that way – but he didn’t know the full story.
    I saw Reece before he saw me. All the boys on the field were wearing cricket whites and for a moment I wasn’t sure which one he was. It looked like practice had just broken up – half the players were hanging around chatting while the others were clearing up. I stood a little way back, hoping they wouldn’t notice. I knew Reece’s friends looked down on me. But one of them spotted me and said something, sniggering. Reece gave him a withering look and came over, tucking his bat under his arm. For an awkward moment we sort of hovered in front of each other, not quite sure whether there was going to be a hug or not.
    ‘So . . .’ Reece let the word hang in the air a moment and it became obvious there wasn’t. ‘That was a very random email this morning. What gives?’
    He looked quite different from how he had three months ago, mainly because he was wearing his hair in a side parting. It made him look a lot older; I wasn’t sure I liked that – and I definitely didn’t like that his voice had picked up a hint of the clear-cut, posh way his friends spoke. The other change was that he’d grown. One of Reece’s big gripes had always been that I was taller than him – but then I was taller than most people in our year, including the boys. I still had a good inch on him though.
    ‘I wanted to speak to you,’ I said.
    ‘Evidently. Must be something fairly seismic. You made it pretty clear after the play you didn’t want anything to do with me.’
    Reece’s friends passed us, grinning. One of them wolf-whistled.
    ‘Shut up, you ignorant tossers!’ Reece called after them.
    ‘Like I said in the email, it’s about Danielle,’ I said, ignoring Reece’s jibe about us not speaking, and I started explaining what