guess I felt ashamed that I was sad after having spent so long striving for a baby and being upset about it not happening. It felt churlish and ungrateful to feel depressed after I got what I wanted and had a healthy, beautiful baby in my arms.
‘Talking of drugs,’ Kate says, fishing a little silver pillbox out of her bag with a flourish.
‘What is that?’ I ask, my eyes darting to the tables around us because I already know what the little pillbox contains. Or at least, I can make an educated guess.
‘Fancy a line?’ she asks.
‘Coke?’ I whisper in astonishment.
She nods. ‘It’ll lift your mood.’
‘How on earth did you get that on the plane?’
‘Oh, it’s easy if you know how,’ she replies with a wink and a secretive smile. ‘You just pack it in with your tampons. Do you want some?’
I glance around again, nervously. ‘What? Here?! Now?’
‘Yes,’ she says deadpan. ‘I’m going to snort a line of coke off the table in front of everyone.’ She shakes her head. ‘No. I’m going to the bathroom. Are you coming?’
‘I’m good,’ I say.
She narrows her eyes and looks at me with that same sly smile, the tempting devil on my shoulder. ‘Come on,’ she pouts.
Once upon a time I would have said yes to that and to whatever pills Kate offered up. We never used to go clubbing without first dropping ecstasy or doing coke, usually both. But those days are long gone. ‘I can’t,’ I tell her. ‘I’d be off my head.’
‘Exactly,’ she says, her eyes lighting up. ‘Let’s have some fun. Go clubbing. My friend told me about a place—’
‘Clubbing?’ I interrupt, trying not to splutter. ‘I thought we were just having dinner.’
She pulls a face at me. ‘Lisbon’s known for its nightlife. I thought we could head to this bar I heard about and then to a club …’
My expression must show my surprise because her smile fades.
‘Oh,’ she says, a little downcast. ‘I thought you’d be up for it.’
I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to upset her but I’m definitely not up for clubbing. Honestly, I just want to go to bed. It’s my first night away from Marlow in nine months – my first night of freedom since she was born – and all I can think about is catching up on sleep.
‘I really wanted to let my hair down and have some fun,’ she says. ‘It’s been such a hard few months with the divorce.’
I nod, sympathetic. ‘I know. I’m sorry.’
She gives me a little half-smile. ‘And it sounds like you could use a reminder of what it’s like to be footloose and fancy free.’
I sigh, letting her twist my arm. ‘Sure, we can go to a bar.’ I don’t say anything about the club though. I’m definitely not going out clubbing. Besides we’d surely be the oldest people in a club, like parents overseeing the school disco. Isn’t it a bit sad at forty to still be acting like one of the kids?
Grinning, Kate gets up from the table. ‘Great,’ she says. ‘I’m just going to the bathroom. Back in a sec.’
I watch her weave between the tables, wondering if Kate will still be a wild partier in ten years’ time or if she’ll be a frumpy mum like me who just wants to stay home, read a book and get an early night. It’s hard to picture the latter. I imagine if she does have a baby she’ll be the most glamorous mum at school pick-up. Everyone else will be there in sweats and PJ bottoms stuffed into Uggs and Kate would be there with a full blow-out and wearing her Manolos. The thought makes me smile.
As soon as Kate is out of sight I pull my phone out to check my messages. There’s a sweet one from Rob telling me to have lots of fun. He’s sent a photo of him and Marlow. She’s sitting in her high chair, covered head to toe in orange sauce and looks like an Oompa-Loompa. Even her hair is standing on end, just like Rob’s does in the morning. The sight of them gives me an instant pang of longing. ‘I miss you,’ I text back.
‘We miss you too,’ he replies, with a heart emoji.
‘Remember to cut grapes in half,’ I type before deleting it.
When Kate returns from the bathroom it’s with a noticeable pep in her step. Her face is more animated, her gestures more jerky, and her voice louder. ‘Shall