differently things would have turned out? That slow IV full of obsession that dripped into my veins over the weeks that followed – would it still have consumed me as completely as if it were heroin?
I wandered around the town without purpose or explanation after that, terrified at the thought that I might see them again and terrified that I wouldn’t. When I did – of course in a town this small it was inevitable – I was relieved that my reaction was less physical than the first time. See? I wasn’t in the grip of my obsession; I was still in control.
This time I drank in the details of the women who strolled with a casual air of contentment through the shopping centre as though I was seeing them for the first time, not the millionth. Bea wore designer heels and clutched her handbag like it was an Oscar, walking slightly ahead of Eleanor as though guarding her groaning baby bump with her very life. Eleanor herself kept one hand on her stomach, stylish even in maternity wear.
And now my reaction was decidedly more measured. Sure, my heart was beating a bit faster, and I noticed how warm it was in the shopping centre, but it wasn’t like I threw up or passed out or anything dramatic like that. And when I saw them go into the café for lunch – well, I was going to just grab a sandwich from Wilko’s with what little time I had left, but the café across the street from them looked nice, and I deserved something good to eat. There was nothing more to it than that. Drip, drip.
What harm could come from just watching them? I’d made an art form of it over the years.
I thought about them on the way home, of course, but that was because I’d just seen them – it’s not like they were always at the forefront of my mind. I had my own life. It’s hard to believe now, but my existence hadn’t always revolved so fully around where they were or what they were doing.
Bea had ordered a glass of wine with her lunch, laughing at the disapproving looks from her abstinent friend. Obviously I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but when they laughed I imagined that they were commenting on how Karen – always the sensible one – wouldn’t have approved of wine on a work day. Maybe Bea wouldn’t return to work at all – why else would she be drinking midweek? I imagined that their voices weren’t loud but still managed to practically block out everyone else in the café, and noticed how they didn’t even look up to see if anyone was staring with disapproval when they laughed, or when Bea knocked the basket of complimentary crisps flying off the table.
I was still thinking about Eleanor’s raucous laughter when my phone rang. It was work asking me to pick up the hump-day cakes, and my attention was ripped away from the women as quickly as if I’d never seen them.
9
Eleanor
The cupboards heaving with freshly brought produce sure to spoil before it made its way into one of the culinary delights she vowed to make ‘one of these days’ and all visible surfaces wiped over with a baby wipe, Eleanor sighed and flicked on the kettle. She crossed two of the jobs off the everlasting list stuck to the pinboard in the kitchen, and was just adding three more when her mobile started playing ‘All About That Bass’ from the other room.
‘Hey you.’ She answered Bea’s call with her phone under her chin. ‘I forgot to say good save the other day. I’m guessing you forgot to book the restaurant?’
Bea sighed. ‘Yup. And it’s taken on the day we wanted it – we’ll have to resend all the bloody invites and I know you worked really hard on them. Sorry, Els. Do we change the date or the venue?’
‘Neither.’ Eleanor grinned, and then realised Bea couldn’t see her smugness. ‘I booked it months ago when we first talked about this birthday thing. Before the baby brain took over.’
Eleanor pushed Iron Man to one side with her foot to gather up that morning’s discarded pyjamas. She picked through the pile of clothes, silently judging which ones were good for another wear before they were added to her ever-increasing washing pile. Pants, wash. Socks, wash. Pyjama top, no visible stains … She held it against her face and inhaled. Wash.