Anna thought back to the interviews, to Jade and Julia and the other girls she’d seen, all preened and out to impress. It seemed like a long time ago.
‘That’s good,’ Nia said. ‘But I don’t think that’s why you’re calling.’
‘No, you’re right. On the way home, I met my new neighbour, and I think I might have a crush on him.’
Nia laughed. ‘No one thinks they have a crush. When you have a crush, you know.’
‘Okay, I have a crush on him.’
It was a big thing to admit, and Anna knew that Nia understood that.
‘That’s exciting!’ Nia said. ‘What’s his name? Tell me it’s Jeremy.’
‘This is the bit you won’t believe. He goes by Steve, but he’s really John.’
‘And what does he do for a job?’ Nia asked, her voice a bit squeaky.
‘I don’t know that yet.’
‘Did you invite him round for coffee?’
‘No.’ Did people actually do that? Was anyone bold enough? Probably. ‘I just wanted to tell you.’
‘I’m glad you did.’
‘It feels a bit like a betrayal, of Ben. Tell me it shouldn’t.’
‘It shouldn’t,’ Nia said.
‘It doesn’t make me miss him any less.’
‘I know.’
They stayed on the phone for another ten minutes, talking about Cara and what Jamie was cooking and whether Anna was free to join them for lunch on Sunday. She was.
‘You sound excited,’ Nia said, just before they ended the call. ‘It’s nice.’
‘It is nice,’ Anna said.
After they’d hung up, Anna sat for a long time, thinking about Ben, about Steve. About falling in love, and how much it could end up hurting, but how it was worth it for those moments of pure joy. That feeling.
36
YES
Tuesday 5 June 2018
On the day that would have been her nineteenth wedding anniversary, Anna received her divorce papers. They dropped onto the doormat when she was making herself a sandwich for lunch, and she sat at the kitchen table, somehow unable to open the envelope, for about ten minutes. And then she tore it open and found that she was crying. And she wasn’t sure why. She’d never once doubted her decision to leave her marriage, but she didn’t regret the years she’d spent in it, either. There had been a lot of happiness, and then there wasn’t, and she’d left. It was as simple, and as complicated, as that. Still, almost two decades, and a promise broken. She thought back to who she’d been on their wedding day. How much she hadn’t known.
There were the boys, too. Each time she looked at them, and thought about the possibility of not having them, of having no children, or different children, she shuddered and was glad. It hadn’t been easy, raising them, and it had taken a long time for them to accept her decision to leave their father. For the firstyear, at least, they had been frosty with her, had only come to her for the agreed times and rarely contacted her in between. But they had softened, eventually, and she had answered every question they asked and they had come to an understanding. They missed her being at home, but they wanted her to be happy. And she was.
Thomas was sixteen, Sam thirteen, and Anna was confident that they were good people, and she was immensely proud of that. Twice a week, they would arrive after school, with big hugs for her, and they would go through her cupboards and eat all her cereal and make round after round of toast. And the flat would come alive. It wasn’t that she was lonely when they weren’t there. But she loved it when they were. The anticipation of their arrival, each Monday and Friday evening, felt a bit like falling in love.
The previous afternoon, her heart had lifted when she’d heard the scrape of the key in the lock.
‘I missed you,’ she’d said, leaving her deluge of emails and standing to hug them. They were both several inches taller than her, and they rested their chins on her head when she held them. And it always brought to mind an image of them as babies, tiny and cradled in her arms. She remembered lifting Thomas when he was seven and thinking she wouldn’t be able to carry him for much longer, and now he could lift her. It was scary, how fast it all went. Everyone said it, and she’d resented it when she was in those dragging, early days, but now her sons were almost adults, and she saw that it was true.
‘How are Dad and Helen?’ she’d asked.
