Page 71 of A Midlife Gamble

‘Well, I don’t think I’d disagree with that.’ Caro nodded.

Helen turned to her. ‘But I’m so happy for you,’ she said. ‘I really am, Caro. What you and Shook have is very different to what I once had with Lawrence. You’re not going into this making him the foundation on which to build your life. You never hung around waiting for a hero to turn up. You struck your own path, and I always admired you for that.’

Caro leaned forward, her chin resting in the palm of her hand. ‘I might have done all that,’ she said, with a lop-sided smile, ‘if I’d been the girl with the golden hair…’

‘Bit grey now,’ Helen said, twisting a lock of her hair.

Caro smiled. ‘Sometimes it has been a lonely path.’

‘I know,' Helen said. 'I might not always have known how lonely you were, but I do now.’

Caro breathed in. ‘And you were right,’ she said. ‘The last time we were here, what you said. You were right, Helen.’

‘Oh, Caro,’ Helen sighed. ‘I’m not sure I’ve been right about anything.’

‘This is difficult but… ' Caro looked down at her hands. 'You said I was having the baby to keep me company. Remember?’

‘I said a lot of things… Maybe things I shouldn’t have said.’

‘What is a friend, Helen?' Caro asked, her smile small but warm. 'If you can’t say what you really think?’

‘I hurt you.’

‘No.’ Caro shook her head. ‘You challenged me, Helen. And you were right to. I will never be a mother and I’ve accepted that, but… I will be someone’s wife and I am very much looking forward to that.’

Looking up, Helen wiped a tear from her eye. There were speeches and speeches inside her, but none of them could articulate what she wanted to say. The moment was as glorious as it was sad. Caro. Shy Caroline, scared of everything and everyone, in her scrunched-up cardigan and heavy-framed glasses. How far she’d come. How far she still had to go. She put a fist to her mouth, tears brimming. ‘Kay should be here,’ she managed.

Caro nodded. ‘Yes.’

And twisting on her chair, Helen leaned forward to look along the bustling quayside. ‘So where the bloody hell is she? Marianne said they were leaving ages ago!’

‘I’ll text,’ Caro said, reaching for her phone. ‘Oh! Hang on! She already texted.’ And stretching the phone to arm’s length, shielding her eyes from the sun, she read from their group WhatsApp chat.

Sorry. Fell asleep in the sun. Be there as soon as possible. Do not decide anything until we get there. Marianne has a folder of information.

‘What time was that?’

‘Fifteen minutes ago.’

Helen frowned. ‘Kay needs to stop falling asleep in public places. She’ll wake up in a morgue one day.’

‘She very nearly did!’ Caro laughed. ‘Remember the ambulance waiting on the runway?’

‘Remember!’ Helen snorted. ‘I’ll never bloody forget it! Never mind Kay, I don’t know how I didn’t end up in it. The shock when she sat up and asked if she’d missed breakfast!'

‘Especially after the doctor—’ But Caro couldn't finish. She was shaking her head, tears of laughter streaming.

‘Doctor!’ Helen cried. ‘She had a PhD in podiatry! Anything above the knee and she was clueless! Do you remember that woman on the TV, the one who used to examine people’s poo? She called herself a doctor as well.’

Wiping her eyes, Caro nodded. ‘Well thank God for real doctors. Otherwise she probably wouldn’t be here.’

‘True,’ Helen said as she picked up her glass. ‘People really are living with it now, aren’t they?' She smiled, but her eyes were wistful and sad. ‘I wish this treatment had been around for my mother.’

Neither of them spoke, and then Caro reached for her own glass, picked it up and raised it. ‘Here’s to mothers,’ she said. ‘Yours and mine.’

‘And glasses half full,’ Helen smiled. ‘Oh!' Tilting to look along the pavement, she said, ‘Here they come!’

Caro turned.

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