“You’re welcome. How have you been?”
“Mixed.” She and Anna were always honest with each other. “At first, I was sad, as you know. Now I’m mostly angry. I prefer angry. I get things done when I’m angry. I’m angry with him for cheating, and not having the guts to tell me things didn’t feel right to him. It’s disrespectful and cowardly. I’m angry with myself for believing that what we had would last. I’m angry that I didn’t notice something was wrong. I wish I’d been better prepared.”
“Can you ever prepare for something like that?”
“I don’t know. But he forced change on me, and I would have preferred it to be my choice. For a start I would have been more careful with money. Do you know how much more expensive life is when there is just one of you?” She took a deep breath. There was no reason not to tell Anna the truth. “I lost my job. They were losing customers. They had to cut costs. I’m a cost.”
“Oh, Claudia, I’m sorry to hear that. Does Erica know?”
“No, not yet. She’s done nothing but listen to my woes lately so I thought she deserved a break.”
“She won’t agree with you, but you can talk to me anytime. You know that. Do you need money?” Anna didn’t hesitate. “Pete and I can lend you money.”
Claudia felt her throat thicken. Friends were everything, she decided. “I’m fine at the moment, but I appreciate the offer. My biggest problem is that I feel like a failure.” It was hard to admit it. “You and Erica have made such a success of your lives, and what have I ever achieved? Sorry, ignore me. I’m horrible at the moment.”
“No, you’re hurt and worried and coping with a lot.” Anna’s kindness was a balm. “I understand that Erica’s career success can be intimidating, particularly if you’re feeling a bit low and uncertain about your own life, but I don’t know why you think I’m a success. What have I ever achieved?”
She couldn’t believe Anna was asking her that. “Er—a wonderful marriage and two well-adjusted children.” She hadn’t even managed to succeed at the marriage part. Claudia felt pressure in her chest. She’d thought she and John would be together forever, and she was still coming to terms with a future that looked very different from the one she’d planned. “I’ll tell Erica about the job at some point of course, but I don’t want her to have to prop me up again. I need to fix this myself. And don’t feel you have to say anything wise. All I need is to hear you agree my life sucks and it’s okay to feel miserable.”
“Your life sucks,” Anna said, “and it’s okay to feel miserable.”
“Thanks.” Claudia sniffed and smiled at the same time. “I can always rely on you to say the right things. You’re a good friend. Please come to our Christmas book club, Anna. You’re comforting and relaxing to be around. Also, I miss you, even though you have the perfect life and sometimes I want to hate you.”
“My life is not perfect. Stop thinking everyone else’s lives are perfect.”
“Stop trying to make me feel better. Your life is perfect, and I’m pleased for you. Talk to Pete and the kids and let us know.”
FOUR
Anna
“Dinner is ready!” Anna shouted from the kitchen as she removed a tray of garlic bread from the oven. No matter how busy everyone was, she made sure the whole family sat down to dinner together as often as possible. It was a time to connect. A time when, for a short time, they were all in the same place. And the place where they all came together was the kitchen.
It was her favorite room in the house. She loved the handmade wooden cabinets and large floor-to-ceiling doors that opened onto the garden and the fields beyond. She loved the way the room gave her light in the summer and warmth in the winter, as if it knew exactly what she needed at all times. Most of all, she loved the large table that she and Pete had placed right by the doors so that they could always see the garden. The table was made of reclaimed wood and she appreciated every notch and mark. The table had nurtured them through all the different stages of family life. It had witnessed those heady days when Anna and Pete had been a young couple—sex on the table, then parents of twin babies—mashed food smeared on the table, parents of toddlers—streaks of crayon on the table, parents of teenagers—moods around the table—and now when they were a family of four, two adults and two almost-adults, it witnessed spirited conversation.
Beyond the window it was dark and wintry and a few flakes of snow drifted down from heavy skies. Anna had switched on all the lights and the honey-gold glow made the room feel welcoming. She always felt grateful for her home and family but tonight, after her conversation with Claudia, she felt it more acutely than usual. Poor Claudia. Her life had been upended and right now nothing was certain for her, whereas Anna’s life had a predictability that she found deeply comforting.
Claudia had said that her life was perfect and although Anna hadn’t wanted to rub it in by agreeing, particularly when Claudia was low and vulnerable, her friend was right. Her life was pretty perfect. It wouldn’t suit everyone of course, but it was perfect for her and since she was the one living it, she was more than satisfied.
She glanced at the table, checking everything. All that was missing was her family.
As always Daniel was first to arrive, mostly because he was always hungry. Her husband, Pete, next, because he enjoyed this time of day as much as she did, and Meg last because no matter the time of day, she was almost always talking to one of her friends on the phone and virtually had to be dragged away from the call.
Anna felt a glow of contentment as her twins, her babies, sat down at the table.
The scent of garlic and herbs filled the air and she served pasta into the hand-painted bowls they’d bought on a family trip to Italy.
They all settled into their usual seats, Meg facing the garden, Daniel facing Meg, Anna and Pete sitting opposite each other at either end. Anna had given Daniel an extra-large portion of pasta in the hope that he wouldn’t need to raid the fridge later.
“Can you believe it’s almost December? They’re forecasting snow this week.”
Her remark earned no response.
Meg was checking her social media under the table even though phones were banned at family mealtimes. Daniel was humming a tune to himself and picking up the rhythm by tapping his fork on the edge of his bowl.