by Chloe James
‘Not any more,’ I say gently.
‘Are you sure there isn’t someone else?’ She sounds suspicious all of a sudden.
I wait a moment before replying, ‘Yes, there is.’
‘I knew it,’ she spits triumphantly.
It had been going pretty well until now, but I don’t want to lie to her. We need to be honest with each other. ‘Not like that. I mean I don’t even know if she likes me – we’ve never met face to face – but it’s made me realise.’
‘Realise what? That doesn’t sound like a proper relationship.’
Of course it doesn’t. She must think I’m mad and, honestly, to be dumped for someone I haven’t even met does sound crazy, although it’s not like that. Laura and I were finished a long time ago. ‘Maybe it isn’t, but either way, it’s made me want to change myself, or rather, find my old self for the better,’ I try to explain.
There’s a long silence at the other end of the line. ‘If you really feel like that, I understand. Maybe I’m trying to hang on to something that never was.’
‘I don’t know. We were younger then; maybe we just didn’t really know what we wanted. I think we both deserve better than an unhappy marriage and that’s before all the other pressures life can throw our way.’
‘I know.’ There’s another silence. ‘I’ll think about it … and, Jack?’
‘Yeah.’
‘I hope it works out for you.’
For a moment I can’t trust myself to speak and end up gulping instead. ‘Thanks, Laura. As soon as this is over, do that travelling. You only get one shot.’
‘I might just do that.’ She pauses a moment. ‘Whoever this girl is, she must be quite something. Before, you could never even talk to me about how you felt about your operations let alone admit as much to me as you have today. Goodbye, Jack.’
‘Bye, Laura.’
I hang up and stare at the screen. At least that’s progress. Somehow I do feel sad. Right now a lot of my pent-up anger at Laura has ebbed away. She’s no easy person, an understatement really, but I was an idiot. I genuinely hope she finds happiness. We just jumped in too fast.
I check my phone again but Sophia still hasn’t read my text. I peer over the balcony as earlier I sent down the wine box and a bacon butty. But it’s still there, resting outside the railings, untouched; I don’t think she’s even opened her door.
Chapter 19
Sophia
I need to concentrate on today’s lessons. The busier I am the less I can think about things like pandemics, the number of people who are sick, lonely people stuck in the flats, the daily update and Jack. It’s best to just block it all out. Like it never happened. Like our friendship never existed. After all, it might as well not have happened. As it turns out, I don’t know him at all. I don’t even think we’re friends. Friends don’t leave out vital details like the fact that they’re married. There are no secrets between good mates.
This relationship, whatever it is, was all in my head, the result of being in my flat too much and my usual way of feeling sorry for people. I can’t help it, I’m just one of those people who always worries about the underdog. Whenever I’m watching movies with the girls and someone gets their just desserts, I still feel kind of bad for them. The others always say, ‘You’re too soft, Sophia,’ and I probably am. So no more Miss Nice, hello Miss Reality Check. This is how it is from now on.
‘So,’ I say to the neatly spaced expectant faces, sitting carefully at two metres distant from each other and in front of me. ‘Today I’ve asked you to bring in something that’s special to you and I’ve brought some things that mean a great deal to me too.’
‘I’ve brought my Spider-Man,’ shouts out Milo waving a vivid red figure dressed in a spider-web-covered suit.
‘I thought you might.’ I smile. ‘Now you can each have a turn – one at a time, Milo! Wait a moment please. Each person can have a go at showing the rest of us their favourite thing and explaining why it means so much to them. So who wants to go first? Zane? Hold on, Milo, you can go second.’ Milo sits down again, but I’m worried he might burst if he has to wait much longer.
‘I’ve brought my bunny,’ says Zane, lifting a white toy bunny up in the air the wrong way up, so his long floppy ears hang down in a comical fashion.
‘How lovely – is he a he or a she?’
‘He’s a he.’
‘Okay and what’s he called?’
‘Bunny.’
‘Of course! He’s very special and looks really fluffy.’
‘Yes he is.’ Zane nods his head vigorously. ‘He is fluffy, except when he falls into the drain outside our house.’
‘Oh,’ I say, taken aback. ‘Does he often fall into the drain?’
‘No, just the once.’
‘I should think that was enough. So how is he so lovely and snowy white now?’
‘Mummy washed him in the sink and then put him in the washing machine.’
‘Sensible Mummy. Well at least he’s nice and clean now and he has a unique talent – he obviously likes exploring drains. Let’s hope he doesn’t make a habit of it at the moment though.’ And let’s hope this all happened before the virus outbreak.
‘No, my mummy says I have to keep hold of him, especially when passing anything wet.’
‘Very sensible.’
The children each go through showing their beloved toys or objects. Milo does a very lively impression of how his Spider-Man can climb walls; Freya has a jewellery box which her parents gave her, with a dancing ballerina; Pritti has a lucky stone with a Hindi message meaning ‘peace and love’ on it; Alfie has an airfix model of a Red Arrow Hawk, Ben has his first paint box chock full of a myriad of colours; and Lola brings out her Winnie-the-Pooh, who is looking a little shabby but much loved.
‘Okay, so we have all talked about what is special to us and why. Now there’s a couple of friends I’d like you to meet. One is Mr Ted, who was mine when I was little, so he’s a tiny bit tatty round the edges.’ I lift up Mr Ted who looks decidedly worse for wear. His fur has been pushed the wrong way, his nose has totally gone, leaving a solitary piece of thread, and his ear looks suspiciously as though it might fall off.
‘He looks like he’s been through some troubles,’ remarks Milo.
I smile at Milo’s oddly mature way of putting it. ‘Yes, he does and I guess in a way he has been through some stressful times. He was my best friend through growing up. I would hug him when I was afraid or upset and he always made me feel better.’
‘That’s what friends are for,’ says Freya.
‘Absolutely,’ I say. ‘Now here I have another special item of mine for you to see.’ I hold up a brand-new teddy with fluffy fawn-coloured fur from the shop. ‘This teddy is really new. I saw him when I was in a gift shop a while ago and couldn’t resist. I thought I might give him to someone else.’ Actually he had been for Ryan. Looking back I don’t know what I was thinking. He would have considered it overly sentimental; it was hardly his thing. ‘But I ended up keeping him. I just couldn’t part with him so he sits on my desk at home and watches me work.’
‘I like his eyes. They’re like little buttons,’ says Pritti.
‘Yes he is cute isn’t he? Now if I had to choose which bear I liked the most or that was most important to me, which one do you think it would be?’
‘The new one!’ shouts Milo.
‘The old one,’ says Lola.
‘Yes, Lola, well done, you’re right. I like both of them, but in spite of how tatty my old bear is – and I know his ear is in need of urgent attention – he’s especially important to me because of what we have been through together.’
‘Did he make you feel better when you were sad?’ asks Zane. ‘My bunny does that too. He gives the best cuddles.’
‘Yes, Mr Ted made me feel better and now just seeing him makes me happy. He brings back lots of great memories. So in spite of the fact he’s tatty and his ear’s nearly coming off, it doesn’t matter. Does anyone know why that is?�
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‘Because it’s what’s underneath that counts,’ Alfie answers.
‘Well done, Alfie, it is. So it isn’t about how smart things are, or how much money we have or how much things cost, what makes them precious is what they mean to us. I think this virus has made us all change our priorities hasn’t it? Do you think the same things matter to you now as they did before lockdown?’
‘No, before lockdown all I wanted was riding lessons, but now I just want my mum to come home safe from work every day,’ Freya says. Her words make me swallow involuntarily. I know just how she feels. Each and every day I’ve been offering up prayers that Mum will be okay, that she will escape this virus. We all know it can be especially risky for those on the front line.
‘Absolutely – that’s really what matters,’ I say in what I hope is an upbeat manner.
‘Although I would still like riding lessons.’ She gives a shy smile.
I laugh. ‘Fair enough, I don’t blame you. I always wanted a horse when I was a child.’
‘Did you ever get one?’
‘No, but I guess I just didn’t want one so much when I was older.’ That’s the thing, our priorities change. I wish my disagreements with my mum were still as simple now as they were when I was a child. She had been upset at my change of career direction and heartbroken over Ryan. Such a nice lad with impeccable manners. Charming parents and all so successful.
‘I still want my brother to stop eating my sweets,’ Milo says, jolting me back to reality.
‘I can understand that, Milo,’ I reply, ‘but is there anything else that’s important?’
‘Yes, because we don’t have so many sweets now, I do share and he gives me some of his chocolate.’
‘That’s perfect,’ I say, relieved that I’ve managed to make a teaching moment out of Milo’s obsession with sugar. ‘So maybe in spite of the fact things are tough right now, we are all learning what really matters to us.’
Freya puts her hand up. ‘Miss Trent.’
‘Yes, Freya?’
‘Isn’t it people who are the most important thing? And how we help each other through things? That’s what really counts.’
‘Yes, Freya, you’re right, that is what means most, especially at the moment – we all really need each other now more than ever.’
As I drive back to the flat, I ponder on the fact that kids, for some reason, often get to the real heart of the matter so much better than adults. Why don’t we keep the simple, accepting and honest outlook on life we had as children?
As I pull up into the car park my phone bings the arrival of a text. It’s from Jess. Hey Soph, hope you’re well and everything’s okay. Zach and I are having a great time on our virtual honeymoon. No work, no stressful phone calls (not meaning you of course) just chilling out and watching old romantic movies and lazing in the garden. Absolute bliss. Hope you and Erica are okay and the kids at school are happy. Loved the pictures they did for our wedding, they’re so cute xx
Yes we’re all fine, don’t be fooled though, they really aren’t that cute normally, but they are good kids. How’s married life? xx
Zach’s managed to get some fresh shellfish delivered so he’s creating a special dinner tonight. I’d better make the most of it – we’ll be back on stuff from the freezer next week! xx
Sounds like here then! I’m hoping Erica will have cooked tonight; I’m shattered! xx
Well don’t overdo it. Make sure you get some down time. Are you still looking after all those neighbours of yours? xx
Just a few of them, but Jack’s been doing loads xx
I type his name without thinking, and then it all comes crashing back and I wish I hadn’t.
Ah and how is Jack? xx
Sorry, must go. Erica will be wondering where I am xx
Okay, send my love to Jack and look after yourself xx
Enjoy your time off xx
Will do! xx Don’t think you’re getting away with it about Jack. I’m going to need to know all the details when I’m back from my virtual honeymoon.
I send her a picture of the raised-eyebrow emoji and click my phone off before trudging up to the flat. I wish she were usually as easy to dismiss, although there’s a part of me that misses our regular chats.
‘There you are,’ says Erica opening the door with a flourish. ‘I thought you must have got lost.’
‘No, just a busy day. Had to do some planning for the next few lessons and you know how it is.’ I stumble into the flat, dump my bags in the decontaminating corner and wash my hands thoroughly. We have this rule in our flat that any bags or parcels or things from the currently potentially toxic outside world are left in the corner for anything from a few hours to a couple of days to get rid of any potential germs. I also wipe things off at regular intervals with sprays and cloths. Disinfectant wipes are simply impossible to get hold of now, along with yeast and flour. It’s as though this pandemic has made everyone into cleanliness freaks, germophobes and wannabe bakers. I have an old bread machine, which was Mum’s back in the day. It probably still works but I haven’t been able to try it out as you can’t get yeast at any price.
Fortunately for everyone, the general population seems to have realised that toilet rolls are not going to run out any time soon and there are plenty available in the shops now. Shame I ordered fifty rolls on the internet, but I expect we’ll get through them eventually.
‘Cup of tea?’ I offer Erica, as I flick the kettle on.
‘I’d love one thanks.’
I bumble about making the tea and eating biscuits at the same time. I always come in from work super hungry. ‘Good shift at the hospital last night?’
‘Yeah it was okay. We had a dad who got angry about the social distancing thing, but he settled down in the end after the baby was born. Got a bit hairy at one point though.’
‘Sounds stressful. That’s ridiculous – you’re only trying to protect his family.’
‘I know. It was. I came in, drank a large brandy and went straight to sleep.’
‘Don’t blame you.’
‘I found this on the balcony.’ She holds up the wine box and the remnants of what looks like a bacon bap with a letter tucked in next to it.
‘Oh? That’s random.’ I buzz round the kitchen nonchalantly.
‘It’s from Jack. I thought you’d want to read it.’
‘Not really.’ I busy myself adding sugar to Erica’s tea, spending an inordinate amount of time stirring it.
‘You’re going to wear the pattern off the inside of the mug in a minute. Come on spill – something happened with Jack didn’t it?’
‘Not really.’ I take a bite of custard cream.
‘You can’t fool me. Come on, Soph, you’ll feel better talking about it.’
I fling myself down on the sofa and take a revitalising sip of tea. ‘I s’pose. It’s just I really liked him. I still do, but I can’t stand people who hold stuff back. It’s really not okay in a relationship.’
‘But you’re not really in a relationship are you? You’re just mates. You haven’t even seen each other.’
‘I know, but I guess I felt there was more than that, like he really understood stuff. It was as though there was a connection.’
‘And?’
‘And he just suddenly announces he’s got a wife.’
Erica almost drops the wine box she’s still holding. ‘Oh okay that’s bad. I didn’t see that coming.’
‘No one saw that coming.’ I’ve since been wondering if maybe I should have, replaying our conversations, trying to work out if I’m overreacting or if he’s just another disappointment.
‘But didn’t he mention anything about her before?’
‘No, yes. Well no not really, but I guess it never came up.’
‘So maybe he didn’t deliberately hide her from you.’
‘I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. You know I have issues with this sort of thing after Ryan was the most emotionally unavailable man on
the planet. I vowed I would never go out with or confide in anyone like that again.’
‘Has Jack tried explaining?’
‘He sent a text but I haven’t read it.’
‘Why not? At least give him a chance. He seemed really decent and I just can’t imagine from what you’ve said about him he’s the sort of guy to keep a hidden wife.’
I laugh. ‘You make him sound like Rochester in Jane Eyre.’
‘Ha-ha, no idea who you’re talking about. Anyway, if you’re not going to look at his text, I’m going to read you this.’ She takes the folded piece of paper out of the wine box.
Dear Sophia,
I’ve got so many things I want to say to you but now I have a pen in my hand I don’t know what to write. The thing is, over the past few weeks I’ve come to look forward to our chats and our evenings sharing balcony cocktails. You’re so easy to talk to and, without realising it, you’ve become part of my life.
I know it sounds crap, but while I find it easy to be positive, maybe even fun when I’m chatting, when it comes to talking about the things that really matter, the stressful subjects, I just seem to stick my head in the sand. My life has been full of serious conversations and well-meaning medical professionals talking at me, wanting to ask me if I’m okay, how I’m feeling about my transplant, how I feel about having a chronic illness, how I’m feeling about the meds and I just haven’t wanted to talk about it. I didn’t know how I felt and I sure as heck didn’t want to talk about it!
For the last few years I’ve been running away, from my diagnosis, from my parents, from serious stuff and I spent some time drowning my sorrows, pretending I was fit and well and just, well normal, in Crete. Then Laura came along. As I told you, she was different, feisty, didn’t give a darn about anyone or anything and that’s what I thought I needed. But as I’ve already said, we were more on and off than the British weather.
What I didn’t tell you was stupidly we decided to get married a couple of years ago. In my defence I can only say I was young and I felt like rebelling about everything and Laura was really pushy about getting hitched straight away. So we got married abroad, without my family (yes, they were hurt too). I feel terrible about it now, but I guess I just wanted to hit out at everything. I know, I sound like a complete idiot and I was.
