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asked me to. Our physical proximity had kept us together—but space between us became space in our friendship.
    He visited his parents at Christmas for the first two years, and I saw him. But something had changed. Our childhood friendship had endured the rocky road of puberty onwards, because we saw each other all the time. When either of us changed, our friendship was able to adapt but when he left and I couldn’t see him, he changed without me and I changed without him. Our friendship couldn’t keep up.
    We became Christmas-card friends and eventually I forgot to miss him.
    Then the e-mail arrived and George was back. We arranged to meet on Saturday night, the Saturday night that had become Joe-free since my abandonment. At the thought of seeing George, I felt my old feelings return. He might not have been in my life, but he was still in my heart.
     

 
    Chapter Four
     
    I didn’t give my outfit too much thought when I was getting ready to meet George. Even though I hadn’t seen him for ages and I wanted to look my best, I still couldn’t bring myself to fret about clothes. In total contrast, every date I’ve had with Joe, my wardrobe has been ransacked, in order for me to try on every outfit I possess more than once. It was natural for me to want to look sexy for Joe; for George, I didn’t care about that. I chose an outfit which was warm (it was the beginning of December), but smart because we were meeting at his swanky hotel. I looked nice, but not sexy. It was difficult because I was naturally sexy, but not overtly so.
    As I left, I thought of Joe. My emotions were a little bit jumpy. They danced across my mind, then went to wait in the wings before returning to the stage. I was upset about the non-communication. Did Joe love me or was he just playing with me? I had just decided how I felt about him, but I was so confused. Why hadn’t he contacted me? After the row I apologised but he had ignored me. Had I blown it? I was terrified that I might have ruined everything. But as I couldn’t get hold of him, I had no way of knowing.
    Although I couldn’t wait to see George, I was worried about Joe. What if he was so angry with me, he ended our relationship? Just as I had admitted to myself that I loved him.
    Panic and excitement are things that shouldn’t be mixed, like drinks I guess. I suppose if I had to tell you how I felt that night, it would be the lethal combination of red wine and tequila.
    There is little certainty in life unless you know someone inside out. How can you do that? George is how. He had always been a constant in my life, or at least he had until he left London. It was ironic really. I was uncertain about the man I loved, but I was seeing my best friend. Even if Joe never wanted to see me again, I knew that George would always be George and he’d always be my friend. I loved that certainty; it’s so rare.
    I needed George that night, I needed to see him and to remember how he made me smile for most of our childhood. I needed to see him and know he still cared about me regardless of Joe’s feelings for me. I wasn’t sure if I was suffering from uncertainty or rejection, but because you’ve just admitted to your cynical self that you are in love with a man who you rowed with because you were behaving irrationally, then all you want is someone you are one hundred per cent sure of. Someone who won’t reject you or hurt you. Your best friend.
    George had been there for every one of my heartbreaks. My first boyfriend was Andrew, aged fourteen. He took me to the local park where he shoved his tongue into my mouth and wiggled it about a bit—my first real kiss. I had never had a boyfriend before so I was just grateful, if not a little shocked at that kiss and a little scared of it happening again; so I still let him. Then when he dumped me for some girl from another school, who was a little more willing than me, George hit him. He hit him really hard in front of everyone. He was my