‘Here you are!’ Hattie cried, waving to me from her garden sofa as Muffin and Flapjack greeted each other with rapturous sniffs and thumping tails.
It was mid-July, the sun was beaming and, despite my summer dress, I was already sticky after the short walk from my car across the lawn. My heart ached at seeing Hattie with a throw over her knees and wearing a knitted cap.
‘Oh, don’t mind this, it’s easier than a wig,’ she said, patting her head.
I bent down for a gentle hug before taking a seat next to her.
‘Three chemo cycles down, three to go,’ I said, once I’d poured myself a glass of lemonade. ‘How’s it going at the halfway mark?’
‘How does it look like it’s going?’ Hattie grimaced. It looked as if it was going horrendously, but I wasn’t about to say it.
‘A hundred times a day, I mentally call that sadist of a doctor and tell him to stuff his treatment plan, I’ll take my chances.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
I’d told her enough times before, but it was all I could think of to say.
‘Oh, it is what it is. And all the other amazing and wonderful things happening are helping me drag myself through. I can hardly quit now my first love has turned up out of the blue and actually seems to not find my current husk of a body physically repulsive, can I?’
‘So things are going well with Aidan?’
Hattie smiled a slow, sweet smile. ‘Whenever he visits, which is most weekends, he lies down beside me every night, until I fall asleep. Which on bad days, is a long time. And then, because I’m not yet used to sharing a bed, he creeps off to another room so he won’t disturb me.’
‘Wow.’
‘Then in the morning, he wakes me up with the best coffee I’ve ever tasted.’ She nudged my arm. ‘Some men fade with time, they grow stuffy, stale and romantically stagnant. Aidan has simply grown better.’
‘Anyway,’ Hattie said, after a few more minutes catching up on Riverbend news. ‘Enough about me. What I really want to talk about is you. How are you handling it at Kalani Towers? Is it all snarky comments and passive-aggressive politeness, or are you actually managing to cohabit as mature adults?’
‘It’s been okay.’ A week ago, I moved into Kalani’s spare room, on a temporary basis. My first wedding with Maid Marian’s Garlands was the previous weekend and I’d realised that house-hunting was far easier when already in the vicinity. ‘We’ve been getting on really well. On my second night, we drew up a list of house rules, and admittedly, Kalani’s side of the list was three times longer than mine, but having both been so used to our own space helps. It’s not like one of us is oblivious to how annoying it is when someone moves your stuff, or lets the dirty pots pile up in the sink.’
‘But?’
‘What makes you think there’s a but?’
‘Darling, I’ve known Kalani for years. With that woman, there’s always a but.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t hate it if Tye wasn’t around quite so often.’
She raised one wispy eyebrow.
‘Or, rather, if when he was around, he felt more inclined to wear clothes.’
‘He doesn’t parade about in the nude?’ Hattie leaned forwards, her eyes gleaming.
‘In his underwear. His unusually small, tight underwear.’
‘A bit awkward.’
‘A lot awkward!’ I drained the remains of my lemonade. ‘Adjusting to sharing a living space with a friend is one thing. A practically naked virtual stranger is a lot for me. Kalani’s kitchen doesn’t leave heaps of room for manoeuvre. I’m genuinely thrilled for them. It’s great that she feels comfortable having him over for meals and films and reading poetry together on the veranda.’
‘All in the past week!’ Hattie remarked.
‘Yeah. But it would be lovely if I can get out of their way sooner rather than later.’
‘Are you having any luck with that?’
I topped up our lemonade. ‘Not yet. It turns out there aren’t that many smallish cottages for sale around here. I’m thinking I’ll have to widen the search.’
