‘Poking, sorting, analysing my stuff. My house.’
‘We didn’t go in any drawers or cupboards.’
She snorted. ‘You didn’t. What about Kim? Or Rowan? She’s probably gone straight to the pawn shop and made a fortune.’
‘No. No one pried. We only threw out what was broken. We mainly sorted, and cleaned and tidied.’
‘Well,’ she huffed, looking at the floor, and then the ceiling and then the floor again. ‘It looks rip-roaring fantastic. So, thanks, I guess.’
‘You’re very welcome.’
‘And a bleepin’ good job I didn’t have any shameful or embarrassing secrets hiding under all that rubbish.’ She shook her head, and to my relief, she then flashed a smile.
‘Ooh, I don’t know. Janice and Millie found a pretty snazzy negligee on top of the wardrobe. They got quite excited wondering how it got there.’ I winked at her.
Marilyn smirked. ‘They can wonder away. I might be able to fit back into it by the time James comes home.’
‘Nah. It was covered in mildew. James’ll have to buy you a new one.’
‘Seriously, though. Thanks. I feel like I can breathe again.’ She looked around at the transformation once more.
‘Maybe you should think about getting a cleaner.’
‘I’m a housewife. I’m supposed to be the cleaner.’ She came and sat back down on the sofa next to me.
‘With all due respect, old friend, you are a rubbish housewife.’
‘A rubbish everything. I can’t keep my house up to basic living standards. My marriage is a desert. I can’t look after myself. The HCC committee think I’m a joke. I can’t sing well enough to be in a non-auditioning choir.’
We propped Pete and Nancy, nearly asleep, on the cushions between us. I reached over the top of them and wrapped my arm around her, leaning my head on her shoulder.
‘But you are a pretty amazing friend. You have no idea what you’ve done for me, Marilyn. I could be your cleaner for the rest of my life and it wouldn’t repay what I owe you.’
‘Well, when you put it like that, you can start by dishing up a plate of that pasta.’
I was missing Sam, or at least being there for Sam. Being needed. I filled the hole with as much work as I could get, along with making plans for the Grand Grace Gala. I walked nearly everywhere, now that spring had really taken hold, and ate with Perry at his house or the club every few days. For the first time in years, I was saving money, scraping together enough pounds each week to begin to ease the tension in my throat. I bought myself a new pair of walking boots and a couple of books. I stood a millimetre taller, breathed a little deeper, laughed a whole lot louder.
The last week in March, Larissa summoned the wedding party for another meeting. I wanted to get to HCC early to sign the contract for the gala, Perry having sweet-talked the manager into giving me a ridiculously cheap rate for hire of the ballroom, with a three-course dinner thrown in, so Marilyn picked me up.
‘When are you going to pluck up the pluck to learn to drive?’
I shook my head. ‘My pluck’s doing fine, thanks. Have you seen how much lessons cost?’
‘Bah. You know Perry’ll pay for them.’
‘If I asked him, he would.’
‘But you won’t?’ She stopped to let a couple of children use a zebra crossing.
‘If I can’t afford driving lessons, how will I afford petrol?’
‘Faith, who do you think pays for my petrol?’ she asked, waving at the children.
‘That’s different. You have Nancy and Pete. And you take care of everything while James is away.’
‘It’s not different. When you’re married, what’s his is yours. You can’t be married and stay independent. The two are mutually exclusive. You can’t keep a back-up plan, the expectation that things might not work out.’
‘I know that,’ I said, slightly narked.
