a vase, buying little ornaments to make things look nice, had become nothing but a series of
never-ending chores. And, sad though it was, I had to admit that even our sex life had dropped
into that category too. A chore.
Back in the bedroom, with Janey snuffling in her cot against the wall, and the window
open to let in some air, I lay down on our dishevelled double bed and stretched my arms and
legs out wide, relishing the space, the freedom. Eve and I had called it ‘making stars’ when we were small, our single beds just about wide enough to accommodate our little arms and legs
when they were thrust outwards as far as they would go, shaping ourselves into big pointy stars, as we reached out and found each other’s fingertips across the divide. We even did it lying
outside in the snow once or twice, a few feet apart, flat on our backs and giggling, looking up 103
into a black, pre-bedtime sky, imitating the beautiful, twinkly stars that we could wonder at but never touch, never count. Mysterious, magical stars, each one separate but all linked together
into little clusters, like families. The Plough. The Bear. Gemini, the twins. It’s how we had
imagined our future. All shiny and perfect, with the two of us spreading our wings, following
our own dreams (even if I had never fully worked out what mine were), yet still staying close
enough for our lives to touch when we needed them to. Where had that dream gone?
And now I had a bigger bed, longer limbs . . . but that wasn’t all that had changed. I still
loved the feeling of space, of taking up all of the bed, knowing it was all mine, even if only for a very short while. Nobody to bump into, nobody tugging at the covers in the middle of the
night, a pillow I could thump and mould to my head’s shape and my heart’s content. I still
dreamed of some vague, magical, glittering future, but Eve wasn’t in it. And Josh? I wasn’t
sure about Josh anymore either.
Josh had been distracted lately. I could tell there were things on his mind, but he didn’t
share them. He’d been promoted at the bank and there was talk of moving him to a bigger
branch or even Head Office, of a higher salary, more responsibility, us moving to a house, with the help of a mortgage at special staff rates. I don’t know how he felt about any of it, if he
found it as scary as I did, because he didn’t talk to me about things like that. About things he obviously thought I wouldn’t understand. Career, money, home ownership, long-term debt. I
wondered sometimes how different it would have been if he had married Eve instead of me.
Clever, competent Eve, who would have been a credit to him as he moved up the career ladder,
when the client meetings and managerial dinner parties began. But now all that was up to me.
I would have to learn to be the corporate wife.
Who was I trying to kid? He didn’t need me to help his career. He didn’t love me either.
Oh, he said he did, when it was required. Just the basic three words. Written in birthday cards, said in front of his parents, murmured in the middle of our infrequent sexual encounters. But it never felt real. Not that intense, passionate kind of love that was supposed to pour itself out in a thousand different laughing, touching, spontaneous ways. Never that.
I could still hear Eve in my head during the argument we’d had the previous Christmas,
telling me that Josh had made a mistake tying himself to me, that we shouldn’t have rushed
into being together just because I was pregnant, that we hardly knew each other. And she was
right. Six years on, and she was the one with a bed all to herself, a life of her own making, a bright future ahead. Eve was still busy making stars, while Josh and I . . . well, sometimes we 104
still didn’t know each other at all. Or even like each other all that much. But at least we had Janey . . .
Our daughter was ten months old now. Crawling around, clinging to our ankles, or the
furniture, pulling herself up, not far off the walking stage. Dropping food all over the floor, tipping toys out of boxes, making mess everywhere she went. But she had those eyes, that
smile, that giggle that melted hearts. Janey was the glue that held us together. Josh may not
love me in quite the way I’d hoped for, but he loved her. Unconditionally. No doubt about it.
I stood up and smoothed the covers straight. The room needed hoovering but the noise
would wake Janey and I couldn’t risk it, so I headed back to the kitchen and made a start on
the dishes. If Eve really believed this was my dream life, a life I had cheated her out of, she was wrong. Sometimes it felt much more like being trapped in a nightmare.
***
It took a while to happen, but we did move to a house. It was small, a lot smaller than Mum
and Dad’s, and a few miles – and tube stops – further out of town, but the advantages were
obvious. No more hunting for a parking space in the street, no more putting coins in the
electricity meter, no more chemical smells wafting up from the dry cleaner’s downstairs or the
We had three bedrooms, one of them admittedly more like a cupboard with a cot in it, and a
small gravelled driveway at the front, and a long thin back garden made of nothing but weed-
filled grass and wonky fence panels, but it was ours.
Eve came to the house-warming party, just as she had turned up seven months earlier,
for a few hours on a Saturday, for Janey’s first birthday, despite the distance she’d had to travel and it being so early in the new school term, and then again at Mum and Dad’s for a few days
at Christmas. We saw very little of each other nowadays but we seemed to have arrived at a
kind of uneasy peace, and I think she wanted to stay in touch, for Janey’s sake. I hadn’t been
sure she would make the journey again, despite it being April and the Easter holidays, with no
work for her to rush back to, but clearly the lure of another afternoon in Janey’s company had
worked its usual magic and there she was. This time with a man in tow as well!
We had just about managed to get all the cardboard boxes unpacked and everything
more or less in its place, with a lot of help from Mum, and Dad had whizzed round the lawn
that morning with his hover mower before stowing it back in the boot of his car and driving it
home again, so the place looked respectable enough, if a little in need of redecoration. Josh lit a barbecue and I had spent most of the day before, in between Janey times, making and icing a
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cake in the shape of a house, marzipan chimney and all. We’d bought wine, and nibbles were laid out in bowls at intervals around the house and garden; I’d put fresh flowers and a brand-new hand towel in the bathroom to detract from the old cracked tiles and pampas-green bath
we couldn’t yet do anything about.
It was the first time Josh had ever invited any of his work colleagues home, I supposed
because our previous home hadn’t been up to the job, and I was feeling anxious about meeting
them, but Mum and Dad had arrived first, their presence settling my nerves a little, and they
were quickly followed by Eve, who introduced her tall, good-looking friend as Simon but told
us nothing else about him. I could tell that Mum was curious, as we all were, and itching for
information, and I felt pretty sure that by the end of the evening she would have wheedled a
few useful snippets out of Eve, if not the poor man’s entire life history.
Eve looked poised and perfect that day, her nails varnished silver, her hair cut and
&
nbsp; coloured, and wearing a short and shimmery pale-grey dress so new I could see she had
forgotten to remove the price label at the back and discreetly did it for her with a pair of scissors from the kitchen drawer. Her perfume, one I recognised straightaway as Calvin Klein, wafted
subtly around her, clinging to the neck of the dress, and made me only too aware that the only
scent coming off me was likely to be a mixture of soap, cheap shampoo and Janey’s strawberry
milk.
It wasn’t like Eve to dress up like that. Her job, her new life, were changing her and I
guessed this man of hers just might be important too, someone worth making the effort for. As
the afternoon wore on, I noticed how he placed his arm across her back to guide her through
the crowds in the kitchen, how he bent to whisper in her ear before pouring her another drink,
how totally at ease they were with each other, and I felt a small pang of jealousy as my own
husband flipped burgers and chatted animatedly to his banking buddies and barely looked in
my direction at all. He did look at Eve though, as did every other man at the party. I couldn’t help noticing that.
Of course, Janey was the real star of the show. I’d bought her a red dress and shoes, and
her hair had finally grown long enough to be pulled up into a tiny pony tail, topped off with a matching red bow. She looked cute, toddling about with half a burger bun in her hand, grass
stains on her tights, ketchup smeared around her mouth, being picked up and chuckled at by
just about everyone in turn.
‘Time for bed now, Janey.’ The heat of the barbecue had died down to a glow, and there
were no buns left, just the wilted remains of the salad, a plate of burnt sausages that most people 106
seemed keen to avoid, and numerous discarded paper plates and empty glasses dotted about.
Josh was wiping his hands on a tea towel and play-chasing Janey around the garden, dodging
legs and chairs, but she was having none of it. What child wants to be shuttled off to bed while there are still people to give her attention and all kinds of potential fun and games to look
forward to? When he caught her she screamed, at first with excitement, but that soon turned to
distress as she realised she had been tricked, it wasn’t a game, and it really was bedtime.
‘Can I?’ It was Eve, holding out her arms. ‘Maybe she’d let me get her into her pyjamas?
You know, the novelty factor of someone new doing it, and then a story once she’s all tucked
up?’
Josh hesitated, already halfway into the kitchen. ‘Why not?’ he said, handing the
wriggling Janey over. ‘You are her auntie, after all, and it means I can get back to the party and concentrate on my guests. Thanks, Eve.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ I said, following them to the stairs. ‘You don’t know her routine,
or where anything is.’
‘I’m sure I’d manage, but yes, come.’
‘So, how are things?’ she asked, when we had Janey changed and lying in her cot, her
little eyelids already closing before we had even chosen a book to look at. ‘The house is nice, by the way.’
‘Fine. And, yes, I like it. I think we can make something of it, with a bit of paint and a
few garden plants. More room for Janey too, now she’s walking.’
‘More like running, I’d say. She’s grown so much since I last saw her.’ She leant over
the cot and kissed her own fingers, gently placing them on Janey’s forehead.
I laughed, pleased that Eve was talking to me, actually talking to me, as if we were on
the way to being close again. ‘Yeah, she never stops. Come on, she’s exhausted. Let’s leave
her. Fancy a glass of wine, or are you keen to get back outside to your Simon?’
‘He’s not my Simon, Sarah. He’s a work colleague. We enjoy each other’s company.
We go to the cinema together, or out to eat sometimes, and he’s teaching me to drive. He’s a
friend. Probably my best friend, to be honest, but that’s all.’
‘If you say so.’
‘I do! His parents live not that far from here, so it made sense to travel up together. He
even let me drive some of the easy non-motorway bits. We’re heading over there when we
leave here, actually. Only fair to spend some time with his family, seeing as he’s had you lot
inflicted on him all afternoon.’
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We got to the bottom of the stairs and I led her into the now deserted kitchen and hunted around for an unopened bottle of wine. There wasn’t one.
‘Will lager do?’ I opened the fridge and took out two cans. ‘Looks like the wine’s all
gone.’
‘Yeah, sure, Anything. Simon’s driving, not me this time, so booze is allowed!’
‘So . . . Simon? You’ll be spending the night at his parents’ place?’
‘Oh, give it a rest! They have a spare room. I will be sleeping in it. Not everybody jumps
straight into bed together, you know. And he’s not that kind of a bloke . . .’
‘They’re all that kind of bloke, Eve, given half the chance.’
‘You’ve got really cynical, haven’t you? What’s going on? Is Josh playing away or
something?’
‘I don’t know. I hope not. But when he works late, I can never really know where he is,
can I? Or where he spends his lunch breaks? Oh, he knows where I am all right, stuck here with
Janey, but it’s different for men, isn’t it?’
‘Not necessarily. Sounds to me like you’re having trouble trusting him.’
‘Is it any wonder? Look how quickly he cheated on you.’
‘It took two, Sarah.’ She was glaring at me now, and I realised I had stepped over a line.
This was not the best direction to take the conversation in.
‘I know. And I’m sorry. Nothing we can do to turn back the clock though, is there? And
now my garden is full of young intelligent career women I don’t know anything about, and any
one of them could be . . .’
‘What? Next on his list? God, you really have got it bad, haven’t you?’ She took a swig
of her beer, straight from the can, and leaned forward to lay her cold hand on mine. ‘If you’re that worried, you’d better do something about it. Yes, you’re a stay-at-home mum, but you can
still make the effort.’
I looked down at myself. I’d dressed for comfort, in cotton trousers and a floppy blue-
and-white striped blouse, and there was a mark on the front, probably from Janey’s mucky
fingers. ‘I try.’
‘Then try harder. Get your hair done. A good cut. Highlights, maybe. And look at your
nails, all bitten down. Looking good is so important, if only for your own self-confidence. I
soon discovered that, once I started teaching. Dressing like the kids, in baggy clothes and
trainers, doesn’t work. Look the part, and they respect you more. I think that works with men
too. Give ’em a bit of razzle dazzle, if you want to keep them interested. Not that I’m any sort 108
of expert in that department! But you’re only twenty-three, Sarah. You used to be so into fashion. You shouldn’t be dressing like Mum! Especially at a party, even if it is only in your
own back garden. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but you did ask. Maybe you should—’
‘Ah! Here you are.’ Eve stopped abruptly as Simon came in through the open back door,
peering at his watch. ‘I don’t want to rush you, but should we be making a move soon, do you
think? Oh, not interrupting anything, am I?’
‘Of course not,’ I said, putting my drink down. ‘
Just catching up. You know, sister
stuff.’
‘Yeah, we haven’t done a lot of that lately, have we?’ Eve came closer and gave me a
loose hug. It was the first time she had shown any sign of affection in years. Maybe now she
had a new man of her own she had finally decided to let the past go. ‘But think about it, Sarah.
What I said. Don’t leave it to chance. Don’t leave it too late.’ She laughed. ‘You don’t want to end up like me!’
Like her? I had no idea what she meant. She was dressed beautifully, had a good job
that she loved, and a handsome man eager to drag her away. What would be so bad about
ending up like that?
And then they were back outside saying their goodbyes, Eve pulling Mum, and then
Dad, into hugs much tighter than the one she had given me, and neither of them, despite their
best efforts, still any the wiser about Simon or his place in her life. I watched as Eve approached Josh, holding out her hand to him, but he threw his arms around her, planting a kiss on the top of her head. Did he hold her for just a moment too long? Or was I looking for things that just
weren’t there? He’d been drinking, he was having a good time, and they were old friends. Still, his gaze followed her, all the way to the door.
I walked through the house with Eve and Simon and waved them off from the step. The
evening was getting chilly and darkness was falling. I watched the lights of Simon’s car until
they disappeared around the corner, then I closed the door and stood for a moment in the empty
hall, stifling a yawn. I felt ridiculously tired all of a sudden and hoped it wouldn’t be long until the other guests decided to call it a night too. With no food left, and no wine, I didn’t think there would be much reason for them to stay.
I spent a few minutes clearing things away in the kitchen, pouring the remains of Eve’s
can of lager down the sink before finishing my own. I could hear Josh laughing at something
outside, and knew he would be expecting me to go back out there and join his friends. But first I went up to check on Janey. She was sleeping soundly, making little contented snuffles, one
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