Follow Me Home by Cathy Woodman

built-up shoes?’
    â€˜No,’ he says.
    â€˜You liar.’ I chuckle before growing serious again.
    â€˜I’m glad you’re taking this so well.’ Paul touches my arm. ‘I thought you might be upset.’
    â€˜I’m fine,’ I say, my voice sounding harsh. ‘I don’t mind you having a girlfriend. Please don’t worry about me.’
    â€˜But I do. It’s hard to stop worrying about someone when you used to be married to them.’
    â€˜Don’t I know it.’
    â€˜Still friends?’ he says.
    â€˜I’m not sure.’
    The smug expression on Paul’s face is replaced by consternation.
    â€˜What do you mean? You’ve just made out that you’re cool with the situation. I don’t see that this changes anything between us.’
    â€˜What about your girlfriend? What would she think of us keeping in touch?’
    â€˜She isn’t the jealous type.’
    â€˜I don’t think it’s a good idea,’ I say, trying to make the break between us, something I’ve wanted, but have been too much of a coward to do in the past, knowing that if I did, I’d be devastated. However, cutting all ties, although intensely painful, seems to be the only way for me to move forward in my life. I can’t bear the thought of keeping seeing him, knowing he’s with someone else. ‘I wouldn’t appreciate my boyfriend texting and phoning and dropping by to see his ex-wife all the time. It’s quite a test for a new relationship.’
    â€˜Actually, it isn’t that new,’ he confesses. ‘We’ve been dating for a while now.’
    â€˜And you never said, even though we’re supposed to be such friends?’ I’m angry now, resentful towards him for not mentioning his love interest before, and pretty furious with myself for letting it get to me. I turn away and start heading along the corridor.
    â€˜Where are you going?’Paul says, following.
    â€˜Claire’s waiting.’
    â€˜I’ll see you around then,’ he calls after me.
    â€˜Goodbye,’ I call back.
    â€˜What did he want?’ Claire says when I catch up with her in reception. ‘Hey, are you okay?’
    â€˜I will be,’ I say, biting back tears. I tell her about the girlfriend.
    â€˜I’m so sorry.’ Claire offers me a tissue. ‘The bastard.’
    â€˜It was bound to happen, but I didn’t think it would affect me like this. I wish I could say I don’t care what he’s doing and with whom, but I can’t.’
    â€˜You don’t want him back, do you?’ Claire groans.
    â€˜No. No way, but I still have feelings for him.’ I blow my nose loudly. ‘I guess I always will.’
    â€˜That’s because you will insist on this “let’s stay mates” business.’
    â€˜I’ve told him I don’t want to be friends any more.’
    â€˜Oh well done.’ Claire pats my shoulder. ‘If there’s any time when you’re tempted to change your mind about that, call me and I’ll set you back on the right track.’
    â€˜Thank you.’
    â€˜You’re bound to have moments of weakness. What you need is something, or rather some one special to help you move on, somebody to have fun with.’
    â€˜That’s easier said than done, but if Paul’s managed it, why shouldn’t I?’
    â€˜Exactly,’ Claire agrees, and we walk along the seafront in the sticky, salt-laden breeze that blows from the sea, and climb the steps to the top of the cliff. At the Talymouth Arms, we stop for drinks.
    â€˜Who is she then?’ Claire asks, her curiosity piqued. ‘What’s she like?’
    â€˜I didn’t ask.’ I pay for a Diet Coke and a lime and soda at the bar and follow her past a couple of tables of evening drinkers towards the rear of the pub, which has dark oak beams across the ceiling and seafaring art on the