Page 72 of A Midlife Gamble

Kay and Marianne were approaching the table, Marianne carrying a serious-looking folder under her arm.

'Sorry,’ Kay breathed as she pulled out a chair. ‘I fell asleep…’

‘Again?’ Helen said.

‘No comment,’ Kay said. She looked at the glasses and the champagne bottle and the ice bucket. ‘Started without us?’

And before anyone could answer, Marianne slapped her folder on the table. ‘So! We have a wedding to plan?’

Caro smiled. ‘You know we still haven’t decided? England, Poland or here.’

Marianne snorted as she waved a hand at the view before them. ‘Why on earth would you choose anywherebuthere?’

‘It is glorious,’ Caro admitted. She turned to Kay. ‘How about you, have you decided?’

‘About work? Yes. I handed in my notice last week. This term will be my last.’

‘Really?’ Helen gasped.

‘Oh.’ Caro’s mouth stayed open. ‘I wasn’t at all sure you would.’

Kay nodded. ‘Me neither. But life is too short. I want to spend whatever time is left sitting in the sun. Alex is great. He’s decided that as he’s passed his driving test, he’ll do the shopping now. Apparently, he’s not keen on lasagne or shepherd’s pie anymore and wants to choose himself!’ She shrugged. ‘It’s one less job for me. And with mum gone now, there doesn’t seem to be a reason not to.’

‘Come and live here?’ Helen finished.

‘Probably,’ Kay smiled. ‘I do love it here.’

‘Who wouldn’t!’ Marianne turned her palms to the sky.

‘Dad,’ Kay smiled, ‘is very well. He could go on for another twenty years, he’s so sprightly. So…’ Reaching across to the ice-bucket, she pulled the champagne bottle out. ‘So I think I want to be able to sit in the sun. It’s a short flight back if I’m needed and…’ As she filled her glass, she turned to Caro. ‘You don’t regret giving up your job, do you?’

‘Nooo.’ Caro shook her head. ‘Who’s going to supply you with tomatoes if I go back to work?’

‘True,’ Kay laughed. ‘They are delicious. How many plants have you got this year?’

’Twenty-four,’ Caro said. ‘I’m cutting back. My apartment looks like a greenhouse again.’

‘You’ll be a farmer yet,’ Helen smiled.

‘Funny you should mention that.' Caro smiled. 'Shook showed me a property just last week, near Gdansk. A farm.’

‘You’re not!’ Putting the bottle down, Kay stared at her.

‘A farmer!’ Helen was incredulous.

‘I must admit I find that hard to imagine,’ Marianne said, taking the bottle from Kay.

‘So! You’re all going off and leaving me!’ Helen declared. ‘Kay to Cyprus, you to Poland—’

‘Whoa!’ Caro held her hand up. ‘Nothing’s decided. It’s a decision for another time. And anyway, you’re off soon enough, aren’t you?’

‘Three weeks,’ Helen said and took the bottle from Marianne.

‘Do you have your itinerary sorted?’ Kay asked.

Helen nodded. As the delicate bubbles of champagne fizzed away near the top of her glass, she twisted the bottle to end the flow, and passed it over to Caro. Yes, finally she was going. Six weeks across the States, starting in Washington DC, finishing in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. Strawberries, in hanging baskets, would have to wait. And this was only the start. Having come to an agreement with her boss, every year she had determined would take her somewhere new on an extended trip. Vegas had re-ignited the flame that Cyprus lit. Her rucksack was half-packed, and she was tramping around with her boots on every night, trying to break them in. She had a subscription to Lonely Planet and had downloaded the app to her phone. Many evenings had passed with her smart new flat looking more like the student flat they had all shared thirty years ago. Planning which campsite to stop at, which stars to sleep under, had turned out to be a lot more interesting than polishing taps.

‘So,' Caro said. 'We're looking at September. After Helen gets back and if you won’t be at school, Kay… It could be any time?’

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