‘Agreed,’ said Theresa, ‘But also fondue.’
‘God, this feels like a million miles away from home,’ Bahira commented, lying on the sofa facing the huge window, her tea mug on her lap. ‘I can see why you like it.’
‘I love it,’ Alice answered honestly.
‘Have you been doing any drawing?’ Bahira asked.
‘I didn’t for a long time, but then I started selling a few pieces in a local café, and I’ve been making lots of Bear cartoons of him growing up in Switzerland, and then . . . ’
The others looked over when she stopped.
‘I actually just this last week basically spewed out all my thoughts and feelings onto the pages of my sketch pads, and it was quite therapeutic.’
Kemi sat up with interest. ‘Really? Drawing helps?’
Alice shrugged. ‘It helped me. They say writing in journals and things can help with trauma but I isn’t good wiv them wordz. So for me it helped to say it out loud but on the page.’
‘That’s really interesting.’ Kemi nodded. ‘I’ve been thinking I need an outlet of some kind that isn’t the gym. I’ve been going at it a bit hard.’
‘Because of what happened?’ Alice asked with surprise.
‘Yep. I’ve been spending a couple of hours there per day, as if I could, I don’t know . . . Being strong and fit feels overwhelmingly important right now.’
‘I was drinking too much,’ Theresa confessed. ‘I stopped on the day you left for Switzerland – you inspired me to try and make a change.’
How blind Alice had been, not seeing that her friends were struggling too. ‘I should have called you.’
‘We were all in our own heads a bit at the time,’ said Bahira. She shot a bit of a look at Kemi and Theresa.
‘What?’ asked Alice, afraid of what they were thinking.
Theresa sat up a little straighter. ‘I wish we could have got through this all together, but—’
‘Theresa . . . ’ Bahira interrupted.
‘Tell me,’ said Alice. ‘Let’s just be open.’
So Theresa continued. ‘It felt like you didn’t think we were grieving as much as you. Like you didn’t think we understood.’
Alice looked at all of their faces. They clearly agreed. ‘I think I knew you were grieving, but everything,everythingI had was focused on Jill. On every detail in life she’d miss out on. On everything she was and would never be again. I simply didn’t have anything left to share. Especially once Bear started nudging his way into it.’ She paused, collecting up the other thing she wanted to say out loud. ‘But I also thought, how could you not be angry at me? I took her from you . . . ’
‘When did we ever make you feel like that?’ cried Kemi.
‘You didn’t, but I was . . . under.’
Kemi shook her head. ‘Well, please don’t think that kind of thing ever again. When it happened I felt so lucky that we didn’t lose both of you, but then for a while it felt like we had anyway, and we didn’t know how to save you because you kept pushing us away.’
‘But we’re here now,’ said Bahira, practical as ever. ‘Because we don’t care if you try and push us away. We’ll keep pushing back. For you, and for us, and for Jill.’
It was really time human beings stopped giving their insecurities so much credit, Alice thought. When will we realise they’re all in our head?
Kemi broke through Alice’s thoughts. ‘Here’s what I think we should do this evening, if you agree, Alice. I say we put on our pyjamas, open all the chocolate in the house and Alice gives us a drawing lesson so we can all let out our feelings. And we can ugly cry, and ugly laugh, and we can talk about how great a person Jill was but also how bloody annoying she always was with being late to everything.’
Alice laughed at that truth. ‘I don’t know how good a teacher I’ll be, but you had me at pyjamas.’
‘It doesn’t matter what our artwork looks like, it matters that we’re having a go together,’ Kemi finished. ‘What do you think?’
Bear could not have been happier with this arrangement. Within minutes the four women were buckling down for the evening, fresh cups of tea, masses of snacks, PJs on, blankets aplenty, and a big pile of pens, pencils and sketch pads scattered around. And in the centre of everyone’s universe, like the glue that held the group together, was the stretched out and sleeping puppy that once belonged to Jill.
