The Friends We Keep(58)

Now, lying in bed, listening to Lance’s comments about her weight, the only thing she kept thinking was, Don’t make him angry; whatever you do, don’t upset him. She closed the magazine and looked down at the cover. “Are you saying you wouldn’t love me if I got fat?”

“I’m saying let’s not go down that road and find out.” He said it without looking at her, before reaching over and switching off the light on his nightstand. Within minutes he was gently snoring as Evvie lay in bed, stunned at the threat behind his words.

She had heard about his notorious temper at work, how he kept everyone on a tight rein, but she never thought he would apply those same unreasonable conditions to her. She was his wife, and not just his wife, but the One. She was different; she was the soul mate, the one he had spent his life waiting for. At least, that’s what he used to tell her when they were first married.

Evvie lay down, her eyes open, thinking about her life as her husband snored beside her. These comments and his recent anger were jarring and upsetting, but not enough to leave, she thought. Not when she was able to provide Jack with the kind of life that would be unimaginable without Lance. He offered both of them safety and security, and up until recently, what felt like unconditional love. She just had to be a little better, a little thinner. Then everything would be perfect again.





twenty-five


- 2009 -



You’ve done it again, haven’t you!” Karen threw her arms around Maggie. “Honestly, I don’t know what we did before you came along. What did we do without her, Pete?” She turned her head to her husband, standing in the doorway of the pub. “How did we manage?”

“Badly,” he shouted, coming over and patting Maggie awkwardly on the back as Karen released her.

“The village fete was perfectly fine before I came along,” Maggie said, flushing with pride because, although it was perfectly fine, it was really for the pensioners, and since Maggie got involved, the whole village now showed up.

It was Maggie’s idea to have a petting zoo and pony rides for all the small children in the village. There was already a baking competition, but Maggie redid the categories so it wasn’t all Black Forest Gateau and Victoria Sponge, but Puddings, Pies, Cakes, Biscuits, Pastry, and Bread (she had won the cake category two years in a row).

She gently suggested getting rid of the white elephant stand, given that it was usually filled with secondhand rubbish that no one wanted, and instead found local craftspeople to set up stalls, and her neighbor Emily, who was a graphic designer, designed beautiful flyers that they posted on everyone’s front door to ensure the best attendance ever.

“What did I do?” Maggie asked, laughing as she perched on a stool in the pub. Karen and Pete were the landlords, and had become Maggie’s closest friends through her involvement in the village fete. Even though they were a bit older, they had never had children, and as a result, Maggie never felt the need to explain. They didn’t ask, presuming perhaps that Maggie and Ben, like themselves, had chosen not to have children.

“You sweet-talked that grumpy old Charlie into donating his ice cream van for the day. Everyone’s over the moon! We’ve all been trying to get him to do it for years, but he always refused unless we paid him! How did you do it?”

Maggie grimaced. “I would love to tell you it was my beauty and charm, but I paid him. This is out of my own pocket though. It’s my donation to the cause.”

“As if you don’t already donate enough,” said Pete, pouring her a gin and tonic and sliding it over the bar. “What about you, love?” He turned to Karen. “Usual, or are you in the mood for something more exotic? Pineapple, perhaps?”

Karen and Maggie both caught each other’s eye and giggled. They had gone on a girls’ night out last week in Bath, and both had had far too much to drink. Karen had a penchant for pi?a coladas, and had been drinking them as if they were mother’s milk.

“I wish we had pi?a coladas here, if that’s what you’re implying,” said Karen, laughing. “Maybe we should do that? Have a cocktail night once a month? What do you think, Maggie? You and Ben would come, wouldn’t you?”

Maggie nodded, because Karen didn’t know about Ben’s drinking . . . issue. Maggie couldn’t tell anyone about Ben’s drinking, nor how difficult things had been between them over the past year. She wished she could, but as much as she loved Karen and Pete, this was a small village, and news traveled like wildfire, particularly gossip.

The only person she had been able to confide in was her mother. She spoke to her every day, sometimes crying on the phone at how incredibly lonely she was.

“This will pass,” her mother said. “No marriage is good all the time. The most important thing in marriage is kindness, and Ben is a kind man. Even if he’s drinking again, he will stop. He always does. You just need patience.”

Maggie hadn’t phoned her mother in three weeks. Not because she didn’t need to talk, but because she was fed up with her mother’s insistence that this wasn’t a big deal, that all men drink, that Maggie’s deep loneliness was something that she could, and should, live with.

“Here you go,” said Pete, and suddenly a pi?a colada, complete with maraschino cherry and paper cocktail napkin, was in front of Karen.

“What? How did you . . .” Karen started laughing as Pete grinned, which made her laugh all the more.