shrugged, looking around. ‘You’re seriously telling me none of the kids in this town are curious enough to make this their hangout?’
‘You kidding? They’ve got a skate park and a pavilion, there is no need for our shitty fairy circle with an old shed,’ Mollie laughed, looking around with affection at their sanctuary. At the back there was the caretaker’s shed, which was mostly full of pointless tools that had been forgotten about, but they’d stored deck chairs there, and a little cheap gazebo from Argos that they’d put up to keep out of the rain. Chelsea looked on, unimpressed with the chairs, dusting them off with a tissue from her bag, but still had half a smirk in place as she looked at their little oasis, overgrown and somehow so much smaller now.
‘I brought booze,’ Chelsea held up the bottle of prosecco, her eyes drawn to the pile in between them, ‘… and so did you.’
Evie didn’t like the way her voice flattened as she looked at their offerings. She couldn’t work out what it was that was pissing her off about Chelsea, itching beneath the surface of her skin. Whether it was the designer clothes, the perfect hair or the fact that she’d really been hoping Chelsea was going to turn up, stick her tongue out and brandish a blue WKD. Instead, she talked like she’d swallowed a polo mallet and had turned up to toast their friend with middle class bubbles. Like she didn’t remember them at all.
‘God, this place doesn’t change, does it?’
Evie followed her gaze, ‘Nah. Nothing ever changes, and nothing ever happens. Except the funeral of the terribly famous Ruby Tuesday.’
Mollie frowned, ‘Some things change,’ she said pointedly, raising her eyebrows.
‘Well yes, sorry,’ Evie said coolly, ‘we got a skate park, the corner shop now stocks decent biscuits and Mollie made a pretty awesome human being.’
Chelsea nodded, her face pinched, ‘I saw. Congratulations.’
Mollie raised an eyebrow, ‘Judgy Wudgy was a bear.’
‘A bear that didn’t get stuck in this shitty place and forget all about his dreams, no doubt,’ Chelsea said primly, tucking her hair behind her ear. Mollie’s smile dropped a little, but she shook it off.
‘She’s a great kid.’
‘I’m sure she is,’ Chelsea reached for her hand and squeezed, ‘how old is she?’
Mollie went to answer but Evie got there first, her voice a little higher as she stared at Chelsea’s designer shoes and bag, ‘We didn’t forget about our dreams. Life happened. We had responsibilities.’
‘I know, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. It just seems like a waste. You were a talented artist. And Mollie was a great actress.’ Mollie nodded, holding up the Lambrini bottle in thanks.
Evie huffed, ‘I’m still a talented artist. I went to art school. I sell stuff, I have an Etsy shop and had a London exhibition.’ Four years ago, she added silently. ‘And Molls still does stuff, she acts and she’s an amazing baker, even better than she was at acting!’
Mollie looked at Evie in surprise, ‘Thanks, but I’m not ashamed that most of my acting is in the Christmas panto each year.’ She turned to Chelsea, ‘I get a few gigs here and there, but I don’t like leaving Esme with my mum. You remember what she’s like.’
Chelsea nodded, ‘But the baking is your new passion?’
Mollie rolled her eyes, ‘Evie’s good at spin, as always. I do some catering stuff. I always had this thing where I wanted to cater kids’ parties, creating healthy but really cool food,’ she twisted the cap off the Lambrini, ‘but the short answer is I work at Greggs. And I’m okay with that.’
Evie looked at her like she had betrayed her, ‘No you’re not.’
She looked back soberly, ‘No, I’m not. But I’ll be damned if I have to justify my life and try to make it sound better than it is.’
Evie felt that dig, and knew it sounded like she was making excuses, like she had something to prove. And maybe she did. Stuck in Badgeley, desperate to get out again. Art college had been a glimpse into the life she could have had, working with artistic people, making jewellery, experimenting with photography and illustration. Everything felt possible. Except jobs were hard to come by, and she had to pay rent, and her mum wanted the company. She went home to regroup and, somehow, years had passed.
Evie looked at Chelsea, took in the manicured nails, perfectly done hair, the clothes, the head held high. Somehow it was all too… right. It wasn’t personal, it was like she’d been designed by a personal shopper at Selfridges. She’d gone in with a list of demands: ‘make me a successful businesswoman’; ‘make me intimidating’; ‘make it fucking expensive’… and, like a genie, they’d created her. This strange, polished version of Chelsea who was so far from the girl who used to swig WKDs and stick out her blue tongue for photos that it wasn’t even funny.
‘It’s just a waste,’ Chelsea shrugged, ‘this place is… well, it’s Badgeley.’
‘You still dancing then? You bought that fancy dress with money from the ballet?’ Evie knew she should let it go.
‘No, I don’t really dance any more.’
‘What a waste,’ Evie bit back with meaning.
‘Judgy Wudgy,’ Chelsea sighed and shrugged, rustling in her handbag for a pack of cigarettes. She proffered the pack to Mollie, who shook her head.
‘Still a B and H girl. That’s comforting.’
‘I don’t really any more,’ Chelsea shrugged, ‘Kit hates it, he thinks it’s uncouth. But… I figured if there was ever a day I was going to need a smoke…’
Evie didn’t want to ask who Kit was. It didn’t really matter. He’d just be another part of this perfect life that Chelsea seemed to have carved, when they hadn’t managed to. Mollie nodded quietly, but didn’t ask either, perhaps because Chelsea hadn’t asked about her kid. Was there even a point trying to get to know each other now?
‘I guess we’re going to walk down memory lane, then?’ Chelsea said awkwardly.
Sure, they’d all been friends before and after Ruby, but… well, it had been a long time. They were not the same people. Plus, Mollie had a child. They’d never had that much in common when they were kids, but things are just different then. You’re friends because you both want Joey to end up with Pacey in Dawson’s Creek, or because you both prefer the bright blue flavoured Millions sweets. It’s not based on anything real.
‘What else can we do? Talk about how our lives haven’t gone according to plan and get depressed?’ Mollie shrugged.
‘Well, Chels won’t be saying that, will she? Everything’s clearly gone right for our resident boffin,’ Evie said, and Chelsea turned at the sharp tone.
‘Well then that’s wonderful!’ Mollie said warmly, reaching for Chelsea’s arm and giving Evie a very specific look. ‘Today of all days, it’s good to know someone made it.’
‘Yeah, well at least Ruby shone for a while. Burn bright and all that,’ Chelsea said uncomfortably, and from the daggers Evie was giving her, she realised it sounded like another judgement. ‘I mean, that was exactly how she would have wanted it. Nothing by halves, lots of drama.’
Mollie laughed gently, nodding. Evie shrugged and rolled her eyes, but nodded too.
‘Let’s just… let’s just drink this booze and deal with everything else after, right?’ Evie faltered, a little unsure as to what this ‘everything else’ was. Their entire history with a music star? Their history with each other, and the fact that they were pretty much strangers? She was happy for Chelsea, really, but even just looking at her made Evie feel like a failure. She’d been trapped in the town she wanted to escape, and time had passed and it was running out. Look at Ruby. Nothing lasted forever.