‘Holly’s due date then.’
‘Yes, it’s come around quickly, hasn’t it?’
Enya was pleased to be able to chat to Maeve with such ease. The frostiness that had settled in around the time that Aiden had met Iris, when Enya had rather unforgivably showered the old lady’s patio with cat turd and litter, had thawed considerably. To the point where to chat like this on the path, or in the High Street, meant anyone looking on would not suspect there had been any awkwardness at all. Time, it seemed, helped to heal old wounds and life did indeed go on.
Sadly, it wasn’t the case when it came to Phil and Jenny. She and Jenny acknowledged each other with a civility that spoke of reticence on both sides. It was a great shame to have lost the comforting ease of a lovely, lovely friendship that had meant funny texts, shared laughter, and someone to chat to when her day was less than full. She missed it, missed her. Knowing her friend would find it funny to hear of her dating disasters. The blind date at the local bistro where ‘Call me Maurice!’ had spoken at her for two very long hours, mainly about his love of golf, his favourite golf courses, the best weather for golf and how he’d finally improved his swing. And Scott, who had turned up to the park, where the plan was to walk around the lake with his very large dog, Boomer, in tow. A dog who curled its lip any time she approached, barked at the birds who were simply minding their own business and, as a finale, did a very large turd on the footpath. It was at this point, as Scott turned to inform her that he’d forgotten the poo bags, that Enya gave herexcuses, took the short cut, and made her way home. Never to see Scott or Boomer again.
Phil did his level best to ignore Enya. If they happened to be in the street at the same time, he would employ obvious, almost comical diversion strategies, designed to suggest he had no idea she was there. These included paying close attention to his phone, as if what was on the screen was of the utmost importance, whistling loudly and looking in the opposite direction, flinging his car keys in the air and concentrating hard on catching them, and – quite possibly her favourite – engaging with any stray cat, dog being walked, or bird resting on a hedge, other than be forced to acknowledge her presence. She thought he might have got on well with Scott.
Every time Phil ignored her in this way, she wondered what Jonathan would make of it. This behaviour from the man who had been his chum, the one he had eaten breakfast with before a beloved rugby match, the one he shared beers with at every summer barbecue, the one who, every time he appeared on their doorstep in his police uniform, would see her husband yell:
‘No need for physical violence, put the cuffs away! I’ll come quietly!’or‘They’ve finally caught up with me, Ens! Take the money and run!’
She knew Jonathan would find the whole thing disappointing, as did she. It had been her quiet belief that Phil’s hostility would thaw, that he would eventually become tired of having to work so hard at ignoring her, thought there might be an event, a catalyst, whereby he would simply let down his guard and they could all relax a little, but no. She had tried initiating conversation, waving from the car, smiling as she walked past, but nothing, it seemed, was going to be enough to wind back the clock on their friendship.
‘And she’s living back at her mum and dad’s.’ Maeve drew her attention, nodding her head towards their neighbours’ house.
‘Yes, much better for when the little one arrives and nice for Jenny to have them both so close.’ Enya found a smile and showed it widely.
Maeve took a step closer and lowered her voice. ‘Holly told me that Aiden said he’d pay for her to stay in the flat if she wanted, pay for her to be there with the baby, but that she’d prefer to be back home. Easier for her to set up her little business and save.’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
She didn’t want to discuss the detail with the woman, who was, it seemed, already remarkably well informed. Holly had mentioned, during one of their catch-ups over tea, that Maeve was always full of the most probing questions. It had become less odd, opening the door to the girl without Jenny barrelling in after her, laughing at something and nothing. Enya couldn’t be prouder of the girl. The business she was setting up with Columbus, the lovely American, was already showing promise.
‘Well, I thought that was wonderful of him really. And I suppose things happen, don’t they, Enya? People fall in and out of love and it just happens, especially when you’re young.’
She knew it was as close as their neighbour was going to get to expressing understanding, even support, for her son, and it was welcomed.
‘That’s right, Maeve, it just happens.’
...even when you’re not that young. This she kept to herself.
It had been a long day at the bookshop, where she had laughed till she cried working with youngsters whose energy was infectious. Now, as the darkness drew in and the cold grey dusk threw its blanket over the street, her desire to curl up in a den and hibernate with a book was strong; she had rather learned to love the downtime,finding peace in the quiet that used to pain her. Pickle too was reluctant to head out into the wintery eve, preferring her spot on a cushion, coiled on the chair in the hallway, surveying her kingdom.
‘I thought it was nice for Maeve to say that about your brother earlier.’ She spoke directly to Pickle, who, as ever, ignored her.
With the small watering can in her hand, Enya paused, standing in front of the vast devil’s ivy that unfortunately continued to thrive, but instead of watering it, she placed the can on the window sill and hefted the heavy pot into her arms, balancing it on her knees as she wrestled the front door open.
Carefully, she lifted it on to the front wall, and tomorrow she’d add a Post-it note,free to good home. The hallway seemed lighter, brighter, and she chuckled all the way up the stairs, wondering why she hadn’t done it sooner.
Whether it was the knocking on the front door or the buzzing of her phone that woke her from her slumber, it was hard to say, as both things happened simultaneously. Enya answered the call as she grabbed her warm dressing gown. ‘Iris? Is everything okay?’
‘Yes, we’re at the front door, we’ve been knocking for a while, Aiden forgot his key!’
‘I didn’t hear! Hang on, lovey, I’m on my way.’
Mere seconds later, she opened the door to find Iris and Aiden both shivering a little, but smiling.
‘What’s going on?’ She blinked as they walked in and headed for the kitchen.
‘I’m not staying, Mum. Holly’s gone into labour and so I wanted to drop Iris off here and I’m heading over to the hospital. Jenny and Phil are with her, but I thought I’d be close, sit in the waiting room.’
‘Yes, of course. Oh, my goodness! That’s exciting!’ Her energy soared, banishing any night-time brain fog, as she pictured the little baby that was making its way into the world. ‘Are you okay, Aiden?’
She didn’t really know what she was asking but was aware that this was a lot, knowing that to go and sit with Phil and Jenny at this time of high emotion took some guts. Things between her son and Holly’s parents were best described as civil, yet without warmth. She was thankful that the sniping and sharp intakes of breath that had occurred at the mere mention of Aiden’s name had subsided.
‘Yeah, bit nervous but fine. Just hope Holly’s okay.’
