Fifty-nine
One thing Nanna’s death did was to bring Michelle back into Beth’s life. James called her to let her know the news, and she, rather bravely, took the decision to visit. She could’ve opted for a telephone call or a sympathy card. Anything that didn’t involve the possibility of a face to face rejection. But that wasn’t her style. She left her two children with Ricky, and simply pitched up on the doorstep, arriving in the vacant space between Nanna’s death and her funeral.
James opened the front door, and Beth heard him say, ‘Oh … right. I thought you’d most likely call first.’
Then came the voice she knew well. ‘I think it’s better this way. I need to see her.’
Just a second before, Beth had been sitting on the sofa, drinking tea and thinking about hymns. Suddenly, without warning, there was Michelle. Beth wasn’t sure what to make of her visit.
She rose from the sofa and walked slowly to the front door. Since Nanna’s death, she’d discovered there was something about grief that makes a person ache from head to toe. She often wondered if James had experienced it when he’d lost Shirley, but aware she’d been of little support at the time, she never dared ask.
James told Michelle, ‘I’ll have to check if she wants to see you.’
Beth heard Michelle’s response, ‘Of course she will. She’s my best friend.’ Spotting her, Michelle turned her attention away from him. ‘Beth, I’m sorry to hear your news.’
Beth had to choose her response. She had to decide whether to tell her one-time best friend to go to hell, and continue with her bitter feud, or to invite her in, which would mean she’d forgiven her. A split second to make up her mind. She was still angry that Michelle had kept James’s gambling from her. However, she’d just learnt a valuable lesson. Once someone dies, there is simply no getting them back, no amount of wishing will return them to you. Of course, there was nothing to say that Michelle was going to die any time soon, but nevertheless, she realised in that instant, if she continued to be mad at her, their friendship would become irreparable. How could she carry on living with James after his far more bitter betrayal, and yet banish poor Michelle from her life?
‘You’d better come in.’ As Beth said this, she spotted something else – Michelle was pregnant, again!
Michelle saw the realisation dawn, and flinched.
Beth appreciated that Michelle had taken a huge risk in coming to see her, she must have known her rounded belly was not something her friend needed to see.
Michelle stepped inside the house. As they walked into the lounge, Beth saw her take in the television, she must be remembering the day those men had barged in and unceremoniously taken the old one. The last time they’d laid eyes on each other.
Next, her gaze swept over the mantelpiece and she remarked, ‘You have lots of cards. Everyone cares about you.’
‘Yes, people have been very thoughtful.’
They headed for the kitchen and Beth began making tea. She watched as Michelle’s eyes settled on the kettle and toaster.
Once they were sitting in the lounge with two mugs of tea and a plate of biscuits in front of them, James silently excused himself and headed upstairs.
Looking towards Michelle’s bump, Beth asked, ‘When’s it due?’
Michelle’s hand moved to her belly. ‘Fourteen weeks to go.’
‘Congratulations.’
‘Thanks.’
‘You and Ricky really are … incredibly fertile, aren’t you?’
‘It would seem so, yes. Did James tell you? We had a daughter, Ava. She’s ten months old.’
‘No, he didn’t. Well, to be fair, he did try to tell me, but … I wouldn’t let him. So, this withdrawing idea is working a treat!’
‘This will absolutely be our last one. We plan to be much more careful in future. I think it’ll be the snip for Ricky.’
Beth found it absurd that whilst she would give anything to be pregnant, others were having to be ‘careful’ to avoid it happening.
Michelle continued, ‘I was upset to hear your IVF didn’t work out. Sorry.’
‘Thank you.’ Beth knew she should tell Michelle about the £4000, about the fact that James had stolen away her second chance at IVF. But it was just too much. Losing Nanna was the worst thing that’d ever happened to her, and there was no room left in her heart or her head for what James had done. Besides which, Michelle would join Lisa in expecting her to leave him. And she simply wasn’t strong enough to do that right now.
Michelle interrupted her thoughts. ‘I know how hard it is for you to see me like this. But I had to come. I couldn’t just ‒’
Stopping her mid-sentence, Beth said, ‘It’s OK. You don’t have to make excuses. I’m glad you came.’ It was true. As much as it hurt to see her friend pregnant, she felt, in the words of Nanna, that she had bigger fish to fry.
‘You’re glad?’
‘Yes. I’ve … I’ve missed you.’
Michelle’s voice croaked, ‘I’ve missed you too.’
On impulse they stood and rushed towards each other. Meeting in the middle. As they hugged, Beth was acutely aware of Michelle’s beautiful round bump pressing against her own flat middle.
Once they sat back down, Michelle delved into her handbag and produced a tiny velvet bag. ‘I didn’t know what to get you. I thought maybe flowers or a card … but in the end, I decided to make you something.’ She handed Beth the velvet bag.
‘Thanks.’ Beth reached inside, and her fingers closed on some threads. Lifting them out, she revealed a homemade friendship bracelet. It was three different colours, emerald, turquoise and white.
Michelle said, ‘You would not believe how hard that was to make. I’d almost forgot what to do.’
Beth shook her head. ‘I haven’t seen one of these for years.’
‘I just wanted you to know how much you mean to me.’
Too emotional to reply, Beth simply nodded.
‘I should’ve told you about James. I should’ve told you right back in Bondi. The first day, when he came rushing into our room, spouting off about how he couldn’t stay at the racecourse. I allowed myself to be persuaded by him that it was best if I didn’t tell you. I don’t even know why I agreed. He was just so convincing, he was …’
‘Charming?’
‘Yes. I realise that now. He played me. He had me down as an absolute fool. He manipulated me, and I nearly lost my best friend. Can you forgive me?’
Beth nodded again. Still struggling to find her voice.
‘And it’s awful about your nanna. I know how much you all love her.’
‘At least you haven’t called the whole thing tragic!’
‘I would never belittle it. It’s so much worse than that.’
After an hour or so, Michelle made a move to leave. ‘I’d better get back to Solomon and Ava. Ricky’s a great dad, but …’
‘Yes. Of course. Thank you for coming.’
‘Thank you for the second chance.’
‘I’m sorry it took me this long to offer it.’
‘I think we both know the blame doesn’t lie with you.’
‘I’d like to come and see Solomon, he must be big now.’
‘Of course. And you need to meet Ava.’
‘Yes.’ Beth’s voice wobbled. Seeing the children was going to be difficult, she knew that, but she’d cross that bridge when she came to it. For now, she had her best friend back and that was amazing.
They stood at the front door for another hug.
‘Will you let me know when the funeral is? I’d like to come.’
‘Mum and Dad would appreciate you being there.’
‘Do you plan to get in touch with Charlie? I’ll bet he’d like to pay his respects.’
Beth shook her head. ‘Oh no, no, no, I don’t think he’d like it.’
‘No one “likes” a funeral, silly. I just think he’d want to know that she died. You know where he lives, right? If not, I can get you his address. He bought a flat when he came back from Singapore. It’s ‒’
‘Thanks. I know where he lives. I think the funeral will be small, though. Just what’s left of her old friends, and immediate family, that kind of thing. Which means you too, of course.’
‘Right. OK. Well, I’d better be off.’
‘Thank you for coming. For taking the chance, I mean. It was brave.’
‘I had to come.’ Michelle placed her hands on either side of Beth’s face. Taking a good hard look at her friend, she moved her thumb slightly. Gently touching one of the scars on her chin, she whispered, ‘You’re such a numpty! But I do love you.’