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‘It’sfine.Happensall the time.’Hewinked.
Sheswallowed, finding the next words hard to admit.Shestruggled with being needy. ‘I-Ijust could really use a friend right now.’
Shedidn’t have a lot of friends.Any, actually.Shehad colleagues and acquaintances, people she had worked or studied with.Butno bosom buddies.Nobodyshe could pick up the phone and call when she needed bad advice and certainly nobody who would start a sentence with, ‘Girlfriend!Letme tell you what you need to do.’Whenshe saw close female friends inTVshows and films, they seemed like complete works of fiction.Didwomen really go to the spa together for mani/pedis?Didthey really go out to brunch everySunday?Notin her experience.Perhapsthat was why she never could get intoSexand theCity.Itseemed like a fairytale.Whenyour whole world revolves around hiding yourself and putting up walls, it was hard to grow your social circle.
SometimesFrancescafelt like a piece of paper, folded and folded and folded until it was as small as it could be.Thatmade it easier to slip between the cracks of other people’s lives.
Jaiveerconsidered her with a soft gaze.Wasit pity?No, she realised with relief: it was concern.Therewas a huge difference. ‘Shallwe go get that drink, then?’
Stella’swords came back to her, advising her to talk with somebody.Well,Jaiveerwas somebody. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Thatwould be nice.’
Tenminuteslater they were sitting in a quiet corner of a local pub, the kind that still had a carpeted floor and upholstered chairs that remembered the days when people could smoke indoors.Thankfully, it wasn’t too busy, so they found a table easily.
Bothof them looked completely out of place in the old man’s pub, her in her sweaty lycra andJaiveerin his stylish black ensemble.Sheswirled her vodka and tonic and wondered how normal people embarked on conversations about their personal lives.Shedidn’t have a lot of experience with these kinds of chats.Shouldshe just start talking?Askhim about himself first?Commenton the weather?
‘So,Goldie.Tellme what’s going on.’
Ah, that would do it.Shetook a deep breath and began, ‘Well, um, it all started five years ago…’
Jaiveerleaned forward and listened to the whole story, beginning with the day she metKrishat a bar inLondon, to their discussion about children and her secret infertility, to the breakup, fast-forwarding to present day.
‘Andnow he’s off toParistomorrow to propose to his new girlfriend becauseI’mtoo broken to give him what he wants!’Tearsspilled down her cheeks.Shiftinghis chair closer to hers,Jaiveerput an arm around her, a gesture that normally,Francescawould find awkward, but now thatJaiveerknew all her baggage, it was sort of nice.
‘Iwouldn’t call yourself broken.’
‘Iam.I’minfertile…’
‘So?LasttimeIchecked, having children is not the only thing a woman’s good for.’
‘Iknow, but he wants them.Krishdoes.AndIcan’t give them to him.’Afresh wave of tears exploded out of her.Eventhough she’d known this information for years, the wound unexpectedly reopened.Herpetite shoulders shook with renewed vigour and tears mingled with an uncomfortable amount of snot.Shewondered what the etiquette was for wiping her nose on someone else’s shoulder while being comforted.
Asthough reading her thoughts,Jaiveerproduced a tissue from somewhere and handed it over. ‘Youknow there are other ways to have a family?Thisis the 21stcentury.Imean, is he in love with you or your womb?’
‘He’snot in love with me at all.’
Jaiveertsk-tsked. ‘Really?Whydo you think he asked you those questions last week?Notbecause he doesn’tcare—’
‘There’sa big difference between caring, like, for a friend, andlove—’
‘—Soyou told him thatI’myour boyfriend,’Jaiveerlaughed, ‘and took away his chance to make up his own mind.Doesthat sound about right?’
‘Ialready know who he would choose: the tall blonde baby goddess.’Shesniffled.
‘Youdon’t know that.’
Francescashrugged. ‘Wellnow you know all my messy secrets.’
‘Yes,Ido.’Hepaused. ‘AndIcall bullshit.’
‘What?Seriously?’Shedrew away from him and crossed her arms.Shesuddenly remembered why she didn’t like sharing her feelings.
‘Whatare you hiding from?’ he asked.
Francescaopened her mouth to reply and then shut it.Itwas a good question.Gettinghurt?Thethought of emotional turmoil on top of her physical pain just seemed like the proverbial straw to break the camel’s back.Aslong as she could keep the two separated, she was safe.Hershoulders slumped. ‘Idon’t thinkI’mstrong enough to deal with getting my heart broken on top of my other pain.SoIbuild walls.’
‘Goldie, you haven’t built a wall…you’ve built a cage.’
Francescablinked asJaiveer’swords sunk in.Acage…she’d never looked at it that way before.Tearsfilled her eyes as the truth of it sunk in.She’dbeen keeping herself emotionally numb for so long that all this feeling was firing through her body like an electric shock. ‘It’showIsurvive.Youhave no idea what it’s like to live with chronic pain.Itlimits my options.’
