Friends, once
They were best friends, once, way back. Jane hadn’t seen her for – what? – eight or nine years, but she instantly recognised Lizzie as she leapt onto the train with mere seconds to spare. She was obviously still late for everything, as she always had been.
Lizzie got into the carriage and began looking around for a seat. Jane tried to make herself invisible, her heart pounding. But Lizzie stopped right by her.
‘Of all the...’ Lizzie beamed, her smile more beautiful than ever. ‘Jane Haslam. Fancy seeing you!’
She’d had work done, possibly – but that was catty, Jane told herself, sparked from long-held resentment. Lizzie had always been beautiful.
‘Hello, Lizzie.’
Jane managed a smile in return.
‘It’s just Liz these days.’
The train set off, and Liz had to hang on to stay upright.
‘Right. Liz, then. Everyone still calls me Jane.’
‘You’re not still mad at me, are you? After all this
