“Luke said you might find me overwhelming,” I say ruefully, and rub my head, which has started to throb again.
“You should sleep,” Jess says, watching me. “It’s the best healer. And the best painkiller. Here’s a blanket.” She gives me a sheet of something that looks like tinfoil.
“Well… OK,” I say doubtfully. “I’ll try.”
I put my head down in the least uncomfortable place I can find, and close my eyes.
But I can’t sleep. Our conversation is going round and round in my mind, with the lashing rain and flapping of the tent as a sound track.
I’m spoiled. I’m a spoiled brat.
No wonder Luke got pissed off. No wonder our marriage is a catastrophe. It’s all my fault.
Oh God. Suddenly tears are rising in my eyes, which is making my head throb even more. And my neck’s all cricked… and there’s a stone in my back…
“Becky, are you OK?” says Jess.
“Not really,” I admit, my voice all thick and wobbly. “I can’t get to sleep.”
There’s no reply, and I think Jess can’t have heard, or doesn’t have anything to say. But a moment later I feel something next to me. I turn round, and she’s offering me a small white slab.
“It’s not peppermint creams,” she says flatly.
“Wh-What is it?” I falter.
“Kendal Mint Cake. Traditional climbing food.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, and take a bite. It has a weird, sweet taste, and I’m not that keen, but I take a second bite, to show willingness. Then, to my horror, I feel tears starting up again.
Jess sighs, and takes a bite of Kendal Mint Cake herself. “What’s wrong?”
“Luke will never love me again,” I sob.
“I doubt that.”
“It’s true!” My nose is running and I wipe it with my hand. “Ever since we got back from our trip, it’s been a disaster. And it’s all my fault, I’ve ruined everything—”
“It’s not all your fault,” interrupts Jess.
“What?” I gape at her.
“I wouldn’t say it was all your fault,” she says calmly. “It takes two.” She folds up the Kendal Mint Cake wrapper, then unzips her backpack and slips it in. “I mean, talk about obsessed. Luke’s totally obsessed by work!”
“I know he is. But I thought he’d changed. On our honeymoon he was totally laid-back. Everything was perfect. I was so happy.”
Into my mind slips a memory of Luke and me, all brown and carefree. Holding hands. Doing yoga together. Sitting on the terrace in Sri Lanka, planning our surprise return. I had such high hopes. And nothing worked out the way I thought it would.
“You can’t be on honeymoon forever,” points out Jess. “It was bound to be a bit of a crash.”
“But I was so looking forward to being married,” I say with a gulp. “I had this image: we were all going to be sitting round the big wooden table in candlelight. Me, Luke, Suze… Tarquin… everyone happy and laughing… ”
“Yes! Please.”
Jess rolls her eyes.
“For a start, if you’re going to be frugal, you won’t throw away a perfectly good piece of Kendal Mint Cake.”
“Oh. Right.” A bit shamefaced, I pick it up and take a bite. “Er… yummy!”
The wind is whistling with even more force, and the tent is flapping faster and faster. I pull Jess’s tinfoil blanket around me tighter, wishing for the millionth time I’d brought a cardigan. Or even a cagoule. Then all of a sudden I remember something. I reach into the pocket of my skirt — and I don’t believe it. The little lump is still there.