Page 26 of The Happiness Project

‘How could you ever look anything else?’ I say with a smile.

‘Precisely. Right, off to get ready for my nightly Zoom call — don’t wait up.’

With a saucy wink, Patty leaves me alone on the sofa with my memories of the evening. I felt as if I’d been transported to a magical world while I was dancing. Even now I’m picturing Disney’s Cinderella — that huge blue dress and the handsome prince. Do we ever grow out of that? Being swept off my feet would be terrifying for a control freak like me, but that’s not how it happened for Felipe and his wife by the sounds of it — they were friends and dance partners before it blossomed. Upstairs, Patty and Jack will be having a great laugh in between the virtual seductions, and I bet, knowing my best friend all too well, even they are rather funny.

I truly believe that long-term love is about being friends with your partner above all. You don’t have to be in each other’s pockets or even share that many hobbies, you just have to be there for each other. Last year when Michael was secretly tidying up my garden in return for me looking after his cat, I thought I’d found a friend. He was kind and considerate, and we never stopped talking during that party. I scroll through my phone to a picture of us both that New Year — we looked good together, natural. At the moment the photo was taken I remember feeling that my life was finally piecing itself back together again.

‘Why didn’t you turn up?’ I ask the photo.

I could walk away and, after a while, forget about him, but I don’t think I can do that. I’ve told myself that he could be lying in a hospital somewhere with concussion, and if he is then I’ll look very petulant for not having called. I’ll sleep on it, and perhaps after the Lake District weekend, when I’m out of my Disney dream state, I’ll either pop round to his house or make the call and just ask. It’s better that I know now — after all, who knows how long Felipe’s marriage will last now he’s gazed into my eyes!

Chapter Fourteen: Bingo!

It begins to rain on the way up to the Lake District, which seems entirely appropriate; on one of our family holidays here when Zoe was young she insightfully pointed out that there probably wouldn’t be as many lakes if it didn’t rain so much. The book that we’re here to discuss, Grave Tattoo by one of Ed’s favourite authors, Val McDermid, also begins on a rainy day, so the setting and the weather will be perfect.

‘Did you get the chance to read it?’ I ask Sarah. When she decided she would come along after all, I offered to give her a lift although I knew I was taking a risk with Patty also being in the car — her journey pastime is making up vulgar words from the number plates that pass by. Fortunately she’s been focussed on the potential Granny-Okie playlist she’s downloaded and hasn’t started playing yet.

‘Yes,’ Sarah says. ‘It was a bit of a rush because the tea shop’s been really busy.’

‘Is it always busy in January?’ I ask.

‘Yes, if the weather is as mild as it has been then there are always joggers and dog walkers along the canal. I think people like to get out in the fresh air after food and TV bingeing over Christmas.’

‘I can certainly understand that,’ I say. ‘The fresh air part, not the jogging bit.’

We both laugh.

‘Me neither,’ says Sarah. ‘But I read the book and enjoyed it.’

‘Doesn’t matter if you haven’t,’ Patty interjects. ‘Just nod along and add in a few stock phrases.’

‘I apologise for my best friend,’ I say to Sarah. ‘She doesn’t actually read any of the books, she simply comes to the weekends away.’

‘There’s no need,’ says Patty. ‘Okay, tell me each type of book I’m talking about with these phrases: I really thought I knew who’d done it but the ending was a complete shock.’

‘Murder mystery,’ say Sarah and I in unison.

‘Ten points each,’ continues Patty. ‘Okay, what about this one: The author must have spent months researching the detail; it was fascinating to find out about that era.’

‘Historical,’ we both say again with a smile.

‘Okay, let me have a go,’ says Sarah. ‘I so wanted her to end up with the bad boy but they never do.’

‘Romance,’ I call out.

‘See?’ says Patty. ‘So, this weekend let’s play book review bingo. These are the rules: I’ll give each of you a list of clichés that I think you’ll hear from the others and the first to tick them all off gets a G&T from me.’

I can’t help but think it sounds rather cruel, as if we’re mocking our book-loving friends, but Patty reassures me that they’ll love it when they realise what we’re doing.

‘And of course it challenges you two to actually say something that isn’t a cliché,’ my friend points out.

That has me thinking, as I genuinely didn’t guess the ending but I now have to find a way of expressing that without risking losing the bingo game. Damn it, I’m already feeling competitive about Patty’s silly idea.

‘Tell me about the Granny-Okies,’ says Sarah and I don’t even need to look at Patty to know that her chest has risen and fallen as she prepares to talk for the rest of the journey.

* * *

‘A gingerbread shop?’ asks Patty as we drive past. ‘Is that all it sells?’

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