If only I could see Jill as happy as she was the day she married Max, four summers ago, again. It had been the most perfect day. The sun had split the trees and the six-foot-long barn door was pulled wide open. Horses galloped in the nearby paddock. I had rented long, rustic tables and low-backed benches, decorated with simple pink organza flowers and twinkling fairy lights. TheBrodsky Quartet had provided the music. It was very Max and Jill – classy, understated and fun. I’d give anything for my friend’s happiness now, I think with a knot of hope in my throat. Jill’s hands suddenly fall to her stomach. Fast tears start to sprout in watery pools in her eyes, despite her heroic attempts to hold them back. Quicky, she swipes them away. Immediately, I pick up the phone from the cradle holder, hold it closer to my face.
‘The last round of IVF didn’t work?’ Pain pierces right through my heart.
Ever so slowly, Jill shakes her head. Her lip wobbles.
‘Oh, Jill.’ I exhale.
‘I know,’ Jill half whispers. She slaps a palm across her eyes, hiding them. But I see the tears slide through.
‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to pry. I wanted to give you and Max some privacy. I hoped when things were very quiet for a couple of weeks, you were maybe, well you know .?.?. I should have checked in just in case you were quiet forthisreason.’ I kick myself under the vanity table. I was just trying to give Jill space. I’d been so hopeful this time that she was finally pregnant.
‘Don’t be a silly goose, I knew that, I just couldn’t talk without bawling. Max wants to be a dad so much. It’s all we’ve both ever wanted, as you well know. He deserves so much more.’ Jill pulls the sodden tissue out again, blows her nose, noisily, left and right.
‘Jill, please never say that again. Max adores you. He knows how lucky he is to have you. Max only cares about your happiness,’ I tell her quietly but truthfully.
‘You’re biased,’ Jill half laughs. ‘I think this tissue has seen better days, a bit like myself.’ She stuffs it into the pocket of her puffer jacket. ‘Don’t mind me, I’m just feeling sorry for myself. I’ll be fine, you just caught me at a bad time.’ Jill waves her hand across her face. ‘This is a good news day for you!’
‘I’m here, you know that? I’m always on the end of this phone. Day or night.’ I can’t keep the sympathy from my voice and I know she hates that.
‘That was the third round of IVF and the max we said we’d do, if you pardon the pun!’ Jill dabs under her eyes with the tips of her fingers and presses them into her soft skin. ‘Max hates watching me go through this. He thinks it’s all too much for me, and he’s right, I know he is. I’m losing my mind. This bloody hope, the praying, the lighting of candles and then the utter disappointments. It’s all becoming unbearable. Every woman I see on the street or on the underground here is pregnant, I see them everywhere. Strollers, car seats, day care centres, maternity shops, I give up.’ Jill tucks her hair behind her ears, as a pigeon sweeps overhead squawking.
‘Now, you stop that right now, do you hear me?’ I say firmly but kindly. ‘You are only thirty-four years old. Your gynaecologist has been really positive. Maybe just give yourself and your body a break for a while? You need a distraction. It’s too much.’ I try to inject a burst of enthusiasm and hope into my voice.
‘Oh, Max is calling in!’ Jill says, shaking her shoulders to gather herself, clears her throat of emotion.
‘Go!’ I command. ‘Give him all my love, won’t you?’
‘I will. Have the best time in Ireland. FaceTime me! Be brave, you are so much stronger than you give yourself credit for and you are an amazing writer.’ Jill, always encouraging me, always my biggest cheerleader.
‘Promise. Speak soon,’ I tell her.
We blow one another a kiss and then I put my phone into my bag and I bound down the stairs.
* * *
‘My dear, I’m going to miss you so much,’ Mrs Schwartz says as she lifts her round reading glasses from the end of her slightly bent nose. Benji rushes to me, barking happily, his short tail wagging wildly.
‘There he is, my sweet baby.’ I get down onto my knees to the black and white Shih Tzu. Benji rolls over, four tiny paws in the air, pink tongue panting. I scratch his belly. Pulling his fur back gently, I stroke his head lovingly and look into his deep-set black eyes. He is the reason I’ve managed to live here so cheaply, part of my rent deal was that I walk him twice a day.
‘I’m going to miss you too, but I will come visit you in Ohio, I promise.’ I look up at her. ‘I have to leave for a job in Ireland in the early hours of the morning. I’m going to be away for five days. I’ve organised Mrs Brophy from next door to walk Benji.’ I keep stroking his warm, soft fur. ‘You were asleep very early last night when I dropped down to tell you. I hope you remembered to take your statin?’
‘I did, just got very tired, very early. It’s earlier and earlier these days but Ireland? How exciting! What I wouldn’t give to go back there one last time. We honeymooned there you know, in County Galway, the most spectacular place I’ve ever been. Jacob loved it too.’ Mrs Schwartz looks down to the thick gold wedding band on her curving finger.
‘That’s where I’m going,’ I tell her with surprise.
‘Is that so? Well, well, well. Ireland’s a magical place, make no mistake about it. The land of saints and scholars. I could have stayed in Galway forever.’ Her eyes settle on me. ‘The music, the spirit of the land is infectious.’
‘I’m very excited to go.’ I stifle a sudden yawn. It’s been a busy day.
‘So, I better give you your Christmas gift now then,’ Mrs Schwartz states very matter-of-factly.
‘Gift? I haven’t even done my Christmas shopping yet!’Mortified, I get up, and walk over to her to offer her a hand up.
‘It’s nothing new, it’s something I’ve been holding off giving you for some time. Something old. Something very special.’ Mrs Schwartz declines my hand and uses the soft arm rests of her orthopaedic chair to push herself up.
‘Careful, you know your legs seize up a bit in the evening.’ I step back a little. Benji barks as he always does when Mrs Schwartz walks around.
‘Don’t fuss, I can manage.’ Slowly, she shuffles her way to the antique sideboard by the huge bay window. I watch on, smiling at her pink furry slingback slippers.
