planning to jump ship?’ An uncomfortable silence settled over the table. Ivan scrubbed a hand over his tufty grey hair and twiddled with his bow tie.
‘He’s asked me to look after his garden. Bit of maintenance, like. Told him I might as well, seeing as I do yours and it’s only next door.’
Marla, who’d stayed quiet throughout the meeting, finally spoke up.
‘Look guys, it’s okay, really.’ She turned to Ruth. ‘Ruth, of course you should do their flowers.’
Ruth smiled gratefully and wrote it down in case anyone forgot Marla had said it.
‘Ivan, Dora, it’s absolutely fine about the cleaning, and the gardening. If you don’t do it, someone else will.’
‘We can be your moles,’ Dora offered, with a gleam in her eye.
‘Hallelujah. We’re saved,’ Jonny muttered sourly.
Marla admonished him with a gentle frown and patted the older woman’s hand.
‘Hey, we’ve made an encouraging start, haven’t we?’
She stood up and started to gather the plates. ‘A petition and a public meeting seems like a good way to get the ball rolling. Let’s call it a night, okay?’
Emily carried the plates through as everyone else pulled on their coats and shuffled out in varying states of sobriety. Marla loitered on the doorstep whilst Bluey went for his constitutional evening stroll around the tiny garden. He was far too big a dog for Marla’s cottage, but he was inherently lazy and content to be the unlikely master of his mini-manor. When she came back into the kitchen a few minutes later, Marla found Emily bent double, rooting through the freezer. She emerged with a triumphant smile and a tub of Ben & Jerry’s.
‘Still hungry?’ Marla asked.
‘Not really, but isn’t ice-cream essential for American girly chats around the kitchen table?’
‘You’ve watched too many re-runs of The Golden Girls,’ Marla laughed as she placed a bottle of wine next to the ice-cream on the table.
‘This is my staple dinner when Tom’s away.’
Marla found spoons and glasses and sat down. ‘Which seems to be quite a lot these days?’ She twisted the lid off the chilly Pinot Grigio.
‘You noticed.’
Marla nodded and filled their glasses.
‘He’s just busy with work. You know how it is.’
Emily peeled off the ice-cream lid and sighed.
‘Who am I kidding? He’s avoiding me, Marla.’
‘Surely not. Why would he do that?’
‘Because we’re trying to have a baby.’
‘Well … I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure that avoiding you isn’t going to help make that happen.’
Emily’s shoulders slumped. ‘That’s the problem. It isn’t happening.’
Oh. Marla hated to see her friend so miserable and cast around for something encouraging to say. ‘It can take a while to catch, Em.’
‘Yeah, I know. But it’s been over eighteen months now.’ Emily started poking her spoon gloomily into the ice-cream.
Marla couldn’t believe her friend had kept this secret so long. ‘Have you seen the doctor?’ she asked.
Emily shook her head with a cynical laugh. ‘Why do we, as women, know that it’s okay to ask for help, but men see it as an insult to their manhood? Well, Tom does, in any case.’
Marla reached over and squeezed Emily’s hand. ‘Give him time, Em. He loves you. He’ll come around.’
‘You reckon? Think, Marla. When was the last time you even laid eyes on Tom?’
Marla cast her mind back. Actually, she couldn’t remember. Tom used to visit the chapel almost daily, but now she came to think about it she hadn’t seen him more than a handful of times in recent months.
‘Exactly.’
‘I never realised, Em. What are you going to do?’
Emily looked helpless. ‘I’ve booked us in to start tests – or for Tom to give a sample, at least. I haven’t dared bring it up again since I told him, because it always ends up in a row.’
‘I’m sorry, honey.’ Marla soothed. ‘Bloody men. Mars must be a boring place with all of that testosterone swilling around making civilised conversation impossible.’
Emily rolled her eyes. ‘I bet they play a lot of darts and live on beer and pizza.’
‘Give me Venus anytime,’ Marla said. ‘Wine and ice-cream is much more fun.’
Emily clinked her glass against Marla’s. ‘I’ll drink to that,’ she agreed, pushing the ice-cream tub across the table. ‘So. Marla.’
Something about the sudden speculative gleam in Emily’s eyes put Marla on her guard. ‘Umm?’
‘Have you never met the one?’ Emily pressed.
‘The one?’ Marla fidgeted in her chair, uncomfortable with the turn the conversation was taking. ‘You’re such a hopeless romantic, Em.’
‘Is that a yes?’
Marla shrugged. ‘I’m just not looking for Mr Right.’
‘Everyone is, Marla.’
Marla sighed. ‘Not me. I’ve no desire