Page 50 of A Midlife Marriage

‘It’s hard to see anything,’ Caro said. ‘Should we position ourselves a little nearer? We could sit on one of the benches in the square?’

‘We’ve just ordered drinks.’ Helen opened her eyes. ‘Sit down, for heaven’s sake. She’ll text when she needs us.’

‘It still doesn’t feel right. Why would she choose to meet someone who calls themselves Goose?’

‘It’s a joke, Caro.’ Helen nodded at the chair opposite.

‘Well, I don’t get it.’ And reluctantly, Caro sat down.

‘Goose,’ she sighed as she leaned forward, ‘was the sidekick inTop Gun.He wasn’t the hero. I’m guessing that’s what this guy sees himself as: a sidekick.’

‘Oh.’

‘You don’t rememberTop Gun?’

‘Not much, no.’

‘Never mind.’ And leaning back to allow the waiter to place their drinks, Helen shrugged. She didn’t think this was the best idea Kay had ever had either, but she could understand the reasoning behind it. ‘He makes her laugh,’ she said. ‘And let’s face it, Kay’s had precious little to laugh about lately.’

‘I see.’ But Caro looked so lost in thought, Helen wasn’t sure she saw anything.

Picking up her glass, she held the straw at her lips. ‘Lawrence never really made me laugh.’

‘Never?’

‘Not that I recall.’ Helen frowned. ‘That’s amazing, isn’t it? That I married a man who took himself so seriously.’ She took a long slurpy sip of her diet coke, put the glass down, stretched her arms and looked at Caro. ‘I think,’ she said, ‘that when I met him, my life was so full of laughter I didn’t notice it was missing in him. I was so young.’ Helen smiled. ‘Nothing awful had happened. My mother was still alive. Friday nights were still exciting and …’ Drifting off, she looked down at her hands. ‘My guess is,’ she said, ‘that I thought there were more important things.’

‘Looks?’ Caro said quietly. ‘Status.’

‘Status,’ Helen murmured, ‘perhaps.’Status,she might have replied, was more your thing, Caro. She didn’t have the heart.Not on this warm evening, not with the wedding just two days away and not with Caro so subdued. She looked away to the next table where a young couple sat, the man meticulously groomed, the girl, obviously entranced. ‘I’ll tell you something,’ she said. ‘Laughter would be right at the top of my list now. Whoever it was could look like Quasimodo, and I wouldn’t care, as long as he made me laugh. If I’d known,’ she added, and paused. ‘If I’d only known how scarce laughter becomes, I would have placed so much more value on it.’

Caro didn’t speak. And in the space where she might have, Helen dived in. ‘Children laugh every day,’ she said. ‘And look at them!’ She nodded at a group in the far corner of the patio. ‘That crowd have been laughing non-stop for the last ten minutes. I mean what’s so funny? When does life stop being funny, Caro? And why? Why does it stop?’ The questions rattled across the table. ‘Does Tomasz make you laugh?’ she said, one final, fatal shot.

Caro looked up. ‘Tomasz asked me to leave.’

Helen stared.

‘That’s what the change of plan is. That’s why I came back early.

‘What!’ She put her glass down, leaned forward. ‘What on earth has happened?’

But Caro had turned away, her eyes blinking rapidly. ‘It’s nothing,’ she said waving a hand.

‘It’s obviouslynotnothing. What’s happened? Are you still ––’

‘I slept with another man, Helen. That’s what happened.’

Helen put her hand to her mouth and held her breath. Of all the things she had expected Caro to say about the ‘change of plan’ it had not been this. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting. Nothing much. Last minute arrangements at the venue, perhaps? A change of booking at the hairdressers? Nodrama, nothing that, as Caro had texted, couldn’t wait for an explanation. How contained then Caro had been on the journey over. How composed she had been, sitting on this bomb. Hands pressed together now, she held them at her chin, watching as Caro sat, twisting her engagement ring. She shouldn’t have expected anything less. The girl she had met at university all those years ago, had kept her emotions as buttoned up as her cardigan, and so it had been all Caro’s life. Thinking this, watching, Helen pressed her lips together. She was trying to remember a time she had seen Caro cry; she wasn’t sure she could. The day Caro had come to tell her of Kay’s diagnosis? Perhaps then? But when else? The revelation was a shock. The realisation that this was the only time she had ever seen her friend of thirty years lose her composure. ‘When ––’

‘After I left your place the other week.’ Caro’s interruption was gentle as a tap, a paw without claws.

‘Who ––’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ Caro shook her head. ‘It really doesn’t matter who it was, Helen. I met him through work. He was very charming and … I was just going for a drink. That’s what I told myself.’ Head dipped, she pressed her hand to her nose.

Helen waited. Maybe she had never left enough space for tears. For Caro’s tears.

‘It’s never happened to me before. No one has ever told me I was beautiful.’

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