And then I called Ashley and left a message on her answerphone.
I wasn’t proud. But I wasn’t ashamed, either. That came later, once Ashley had finally got around to listening to the message.
* * *
Monday morning, Kiko strode up to the school gates like a samurai heroine. I barged my way past the gossip-hunters to give her a hug.
‘The adventurer returns!’ Sarah crowed. ‘You look fantabulous, woman!’
‘I feel it.’ Kiko flung back her head and closed her eyes. ‘It was so scary. So tough – so-o-o-o-o tough! – I thought I must have lost my mind. Missing the girls felt like a fish-hook snagged on my ribs the entire trip. I have never known pain and exhaustion like it. And that includes childbirth. For the first two days, anger and frustration and guilt powered me up those slopes. And then I realised, up there with just me and some very intimidating team-mates, a million miles of clear skies and blisters the size of walnuts, I was angry and upset at the wrong person. It was all my fault.’
Sarah started to protest.
‘No!’ Kiko said, in a voice she must have found in Nepal. ‘It was. It is.Ilet my life become this.Ilet myself be this weak, walked-over, wishy-washy excuse of a woman.Ididn’t fight for me or my children when Adam’s poor choices stole our precious time with him. Iempoweredhim in shirking his responsibility. Ichoseto put everybody first and myself last, like it was the noble thing to do. What a load of drivel! How is neglecting myself, pretending I have no needs, or feelings, or worth outside of what I do for other people, in any way helping my daughters to grow up to value themselves? To expect to be treated honourably in a relationship? I was raising my children to think that women, wives, mothers, are worthless! Or, at least, worthless.’
She took a deep breath and smiled. ‘Well, I’ve apologised and promised it won’t happen again.’
‘You go, girl,’ Sarah whispered.
‘What did Adam say?’ Lucille asked.
‘He said he’s very happy to have his wife back,’ Adam said, pushing through the huddle, Hannah strapped in a sling on his chest. ‘And I wasn’t talking about the past three weeks.’
‘He’s taken a sabbatical,’ Kiko told me and Sarah later, once the bell had rung for school and the crowd had dispersed. ‘Three months off to get our family back on track.’
‘And the charity is okay with that?’ I asked.
‘They’re probably grateful not to have him sticking his nose in all the time, trying to do everybody’s jobs for them. He managed to get about four days’ work done while I was away, and they coped fine. He’s got a great team who will relish the challenge.’
She watched him pointing out a robin to Hannah a few metres away.
‘I don’t know what happened while I was gone. I might never ask. Especially why the living room has a new carpet. Or how the cat’s ginger splodge is now on the opposite ear. But they’ve survived. Had maybe started to thrive. And I’m guessing you two had something to do with that. So, for all the help I don’t want to know about, thanks.’
‘You’re very welcome.’
If our incredible friend didn’t want to know about the pasta bakes dropped off, the lessons in braiding hair, the frantic texts that had, to be fair, dwindled to a trickle, that was fine with us. We were so darn pleased for her we could skip down the street singing ‘The Sound of Music’.
So we did.
And when Tezza shouted rude comments from his taxi window we sang even louder.
‘I’m done being invisible,’ Kiko yelled after him.
‘Amen to that, sister.’ We laughed. ‘Amen to that.’
* * *
Once I’d removed the spam, the nonsense and the weirdos, the new Squash Harris post had seventy-four comments. Heart pounding, mouth as dry as Squash’s sense of humour, I set my laptop up in the Camerons’ kitchen.
‘Before I show you this, I need you to remember it was done with your best interests at heart. It was kind of sneaky, but I knew you wouldn’t let me if I asked, and—’
‘What?’ Dawson scowled at me. ‘What’ve you done now?’
‘Just keep an open mind, because it’s worked out really well.’
He made one of those grunts that reminded me he’d be a teenager in a couple of years, and glared at the table.
‘Here.’ I tapped my mouse, bringing the Squash Harris page to life.
