‘Oh, I haven’t mentioned it to him yet. I wanted to tell him about it properly when I had it all planned out. You know what he’s like, glass half empty and all that.’
‘He must love the idea of a cleaner, though?’ Karen pushed. ‘The house looking so immaculate and you getting some rest?’
Eleanor threw Bea a look, one that said ‘What’s wrong with her?’ in the hopes of a conspiratorial shrug or grimace to tell her she wasn’t imagining Karen’s sudden change in attitude. But Bea was tapping at the screen of her mobile, her mouth curled in a half-smile at whatever smartarse status she was posting. Eleanor was instantly annoyed. When did it become socially acceptable to sit in someone’s house and hold conversations with people not even in the room? How would they react if she got out a book and started reading it in front of them?
She was being unfair, of course; she was just as bad when her mind was a million miles from reality. It was just that right now she needed Bea to leap to her defence, to tell Karen to stop being so confrontational. Presuming of course she wasn’t imagining the sting in the other woman’s tone.
‘I haven’t told him about that either,’ she replied, trying to keep her voice breezy. ‘Let him think I’ve suddenly found the key to domestic goddessness. I’ll tell him when I’m ready. Like when I win the small business of the year award or something.’
‘Is there anything I can help with?’
‘It’s still just a bullet list at the moment. I spent most of my time researching the technical aspects – tax, website design, market research and all that boring stuff. I figured I didn’t want to get carried away with the fun bits until I was sure I could handle the serious stuff.’
‘Just make sure you’re not taking on too much,’ Karen warned, sounding much more like herself.
‘I’m not taking on anything just yet,’ Eleanor promised. ‘It’s just nice to be feeling a bit more human again. Thanks to Lesley, I have no FTS at all this week. Bea?’
‘No FTS for me this week either. Aren’t we all quite the Pollyannas?’
Bea hung back as they were leaving Eleanor’s house, letting Karen get almost to the car before she spoke.
‘Here.’ She pulled a Jiffy bag from her handbag and shoved it into Eleanor’s hands. ‘Table confetti and three hundred silver and lilac balloons. The restaurant said we could string a net from the ceiling and drop a load on her when we shout surprise. I realise three hundred might be a bit excessive, but I wasn’t sure how many to get, and seeing as it’s pretty much the only responsibility I’ve been given, I’ve also taken the liberty of ordering some foil Happy Birthday ones and a giant cock-shaped one for her seat.’
Eleanor cringed. ‘That had better be a joke. And you wonder why you’ve only been given one responsibility. We’d be having a picnic in the quarry if I’d left it to you. Now go on, she’s looking at you funny.’
‘Right. What’s my next job?’
‘I’ll keep an eye on the RSVP email account, seeing as I have an actual spreadsheet, not something written on a napkin; you just sort out Karen’s mum. You won’t forget, will you?’
‘Absolutely not,’ Bea replied confidently. ‘Karen’s mum. Drop me a text to remind me in a week, yeah?’
14
I’d tried to forget them. It might not seem that way now, but I’d never intended for them to take over my every waking moment. I’d gone years content to listen in, spend the odd five minutes on Facebook flicking through their photographs and then returning to my normal life. Now I realise it had been like gradually working free a bolt, loosening it and loosening it until finally it gave way and raw emotion pumped through the hole it had left behind.
Now I thought about them constantly.
It was amazing what people put on social media. I never really understood the need to inform the world what they were having for lunch (complete with pictures), or write cryptic messages to rally ‘friends’ who wouldn’t speak to them if they saw them on the street. Although admittedly Facebook – and more so Twitter, which people rarely made private – were useful tools when you wanted to keep an eye on someone, and I was glad that at least Eleanor and Bea weren’t security conscious.
Eleanor’s Facebook was mostly locked down, save for the odd parenting