girl, you know, and she needs to make sure she’s all right. Just like she would if something was to happen to me, I guess. Mum can’t wait to start looking after Nic again. The old dressing gown on the sofa with hot water bottles and chicken soup routine… It’s what mothers do, isn’t it?’
‘Nicci’s not ill, Si. It’s a marriage break-up. She doesn’t have the lurgy!’
‘Maybe not. But she is in need of a bit of TLC, I think. Anyway, come on, back to business. We’re here for the game, and there’s only fifteen minutes to kick-off.’
They went through the turnstiles and made their way to their seats in the stand, and for the next hour and a half Mark was able to push all remaining thoughts of his ex-wife and her bloody lover out of his head and revel in the glorious fact of the Blues scoring two cracking goals and shooting straight to the top of the table.
***
Nicci walked into Albie’s just after six o’clock and nodded to the man himself, who was vigorously wiping glasses dry behind the bar. She went in search of Jilly. It was their regular after-work haunt, somewhere they could slip their shoes off in one of the cosy booths and indulge in a generous helping of Albie’s finest Rioja. They didn’t often come in on a Saturday though, even if they’d been out shopping together, mainly because they were in the habit of going straight home to spend time with their husbands at the weekend, curl up on their respective sofas, check their lottery numbers and watch Casualty.
Nicci felt her stomach tighten in a little knot at the memory. She hadn’t really appreciated the joyful ordinariness of that kind of a Saturday night while it was happening, but now it was no longer an option, even thinking about it hurt.
Jilly was already sitting at their usual table in the corner, an open bottle and two glasses in front of her. She budged up a bit, half standing to adjust her skirt, which was starting to ride a fraction too high up her thighs, and took her bag off the empty seat beside her to make room.
‘So, why are we here, exactly?’ Nicci said, once she’d settled herself. ‘You said something about a Plan B, and I’m not even sure I know what Plan A was. So, what’s it all about? Another of your mysterious master schemes? And, by the way, you told me you weren’t supposed to be drinking.’
‘Oh, stop being my mother. One won’t hurt. And as for the Plan B thing, I may have been a tad melodramatic there! It makes us sound like a couple of spies. No, I thought we should sit down and have a little chat about things, that’s all. You know, away from everyone else, and without the party atmosphere. Just the two of us. We haven’t done it often enough lately.’
‘Chat about what exactly? You’re not still trying to set me up with a new bloke, are you? I’ve told you I’m not ready for any of that. I’ve only just lost the last one.’
‘Maybe not. But it is time you stopped mooning about like a sad-eyed puppy. Although I’m not sure lost is actually the right word. Thrown away, more like. And Mark’s not going to be coming back, is he? No, don’t you look at me that way, Nic. You know it’s true. And you know it’s your own fault.’
‘Jilly!’
‘Well, it is. No use pretending otherwise. You could have talked things through, you know, made more effort to sort out whatever it was you found so deadly dull. And stuck to your guns about the baby thing too. Chucked something at his head to shake him up a bit, even. It might have made a difference, or got his attention anyway.’
‘Oh, I tried that all right. Several times!’
‘Good for you. Maybe you should have chucked harder. But, really, Nic, it’s not as if you don’t know what Mark’s like after all this time. Even I know what Mark’s like, and I’ve never had to live with him.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with Mark. He’s a lovely man. Kind, patient…’
‘Kind and patient? Is that the best you can say? You make him sound like someone who’s good to his dog, not his wife! And how come you’re defending him now? Go back a few months and all you ever did was moan about him. How he never listened to you any more, how obsessed he was with money, how he thought more of that bloody football team of his than he did of you… Need I go on?’
‘No. You’re right, but he was only doing what he felt he should. Being the provider, you know. Him caveman, me Jane, or something like that! Whatever he was doing, it was always for me. For us, and our future. I just didn’t appreciate what I had. Not then.’
‘And now you do?’
‘Too late. I know. You don’t have to say it. I messed up. Badly.’
‘You did that all right! But, do you know, Nic, I bet he could have listed a few things about you he wasn’t happy with too, given a chance. Not that you gave him a chance. Or even half of one. You’re hardly Mrs Perfect yourself. But, oh no, you have to go and do something drastic, don’t you? Not that you’re going to listen to me, and it’s too late now anyway, but people can change, you know, even your Mark, if they face up to what’s wrong. And if they really want to, of course. And that goes for you too. Marriage does take two, after all. You could have dealt with things better – that’s all I’m saying. But, instead, what do you do? Jump into bed with…’
‘Okay, okay. You don’t have to remind me. Or say it quite so loudly. I feel bad enough about it already, believe me. And it’s all very well you going all marriage guidance counsellor on me and suddenly having all these smart-arse answers after the event, isn’t it? What good are they to me now?’
‘I’d have given them to you before the event if I’d known there was going to be an event, wouldn’t I? Then maybe I could have stopped you making such a stupid mistake in the first place…’
‘Water under the bridge now, Jilly. Please, drop it, okay?’
‘I suppose so.’ Jilly shrugged. ‘So, what now? It’s obvious the party idea didn’t quite work. That was Plan A, by the way. A for All Girls Together. Overall, a bit of a failure, I would say, and after I’d spent hours making that masterpiece of a cake, too. You clearly hated every minute of it. You’d have been perfectly happy for us to leave so you could have a good old wallow by yourself, and you didn’t even try to hide the fact. I know you too well. And I think you’re in danger of becoming some sort of a hermit if you don’t shake off this sorry for yourself mood. It’s at times like this that a girl needs her friends more than ever. And, as chief friend, that means me, especially.’
‘Friend? After that talking-to you’ve just given me?’
‘That’s what friends are for, you silly cow. To tell the truth, whether you want to hear it or not. And to look out for each other, no matter what.’
Nicci poured herself a glass of wine and took a sip. At least while she had a drink pressed to her mouth she didn’t have to say anything. What was there to say that hadn’t already been said, anyway?
‘So, if you think that I’m going to sit back and do nothing, you are very much mistaken.’ Jilly topped up her own glass and leant back into the high-backed padded seat. ‘Hiding away at home alone, with your old photo albums and a weepie DVD just will not do. You’re thirty-three, not bloody eighty-three!’
‘I do not hide away.’
‘Not any more, you don’t. I’m making sure of that. Hence Plan B.’
‘Which is?’
‘B for Back in the Game, girl! Saving you from yourself. We are going to make a list. Yes, right here, and right now.’ Jilly opened her bag and rummaged about for a notepad and pen, chucking assorted lipsticks, mascara wands and used tissues all over the table. ‘A list of all the things we used to do, in the old days, before Mr Mark Ross came along. Things that were fun. Things we did as single girls, without ever worrying about needing a man to prop us up or hang on our arm. And we did have fun, didn’t we?’
‘Of course we did. And we still do, just