Page 8 of The Best Friend
My sister and her wife are lawyers. They live in a gorgeous three-bedroom apartment, just a few minutes from the beach. Megan started at Cerne Manor last year, which is when Jared got the idea to send Joe there. The difference is, my sister and Carys earn a six-figure salary, and we don’t.
‘Will you have to take him out of the school?’ Beth asks, her brow wrinkling. ‘I’m sure we can help if—’
‘No, no, we’re okay. I’m just panicking as usual. Thing is, Jared’s got it into his head that he wants to leave his job and set up his own agency.’
‘Oh?’
‘Actually, he’s skipped the “thinking about it” phase. Just wants to do it.’
Beth doesn’t respond. She nods with a thoughtful expression on her face.
‘In case you can’t tell, I’m not thrilled with the idea,’ I say.
‘Maybe it’ll be okay,’ she says. ‘If anyone can do it, Jared can. He’s a hard worker and people love him. He’ll charm the business into a success.’
I force out a smile.
‘Don’t worry, Louisa. You know what Jared’s like. For as long as you’ve known him, he’s always been ambitious. He’s always wanted the best – it’s why he marriedyou.’ She grins and pokes me in the chest.
Beth always has a way of making me feel better about things. Making me less anxious. She’s only three years older than me, but she’s so much more together. I wish I could be more like her.
‘Anyway, sorry, let’s not worry about that now,’ I say, pushing away my anxiety and focusing instead on the sea and the sky. On the image of my family bobbing about on the water, and on the heat of the sun on my skin.
‘Hello, girls.’
Beth and I turn at the sound of our father’s voice. We both make a move to stand. Mum motions us to stay where we are.
‘Hello, darlings,’ Mum says. ‘We brought chairs. Us old fogies can’t get up and down off the rug like you young ’uns.’
‘Rubbish,’ Beth says. ‘You guys are fitter than the lot of us.’
She’s not wrong. Mum looks amazing, with her slim figure and swingy, blonde bobbed hair, and Dad is a sprightly sixty-year-old with salt-and-pepper hair and a trim physique. Beth and I get to our feet despite their admonishments for us to stay seated, and we hug and kiss our parents, helping them set out their chairs and parasols.
‘Where are my gorgeous grandchildren?’ Mum asks as she roots around in her cold-bag.
‘In the sea,’ Beth answers, ‘with Jared and Carys.’
‘I remember you two were such water babies,’ Dad says. ‘Couldn’t keep you out of the sea.’
‘Watermelon?’ Mum asks. ‘I cut up some slices. It’s nice and cold, just what you want on a scorcher like today.’
Unable to have more children, Mum and Dad adopted me when I was ten, and yet they always treated me exactly the same as Beth, as though I’m their natural daughter. I love them for it. To me, they are my real parents and I try not to think about the time before I was with them.
The rest of the day passes in a haze of sun cream and picnic food. I’m nicely tired. Ready for a glass of wine at home. Megan is becoming fractious, though. Her voice now a semitone below whiny, her bottom lip quivering.
‘We better get this one home,’ Carys says, scooping her daughter up and kissing her apple-red cheeks.
‘No! I don’t want to go,’ Megan cries.
‘Shh, baby,’ Mum says. ‘Give her to me while you get your things together.’
Carys gratefully deposits Megan onto Mum’s lap.
‘We’re going, too,’ I say to my niece, heaving myself up and surveying our messy encampment. ‘We’re all going. It’s time for baths and beds.’
‘Hey, guys.’
I turn my head at the sound of a familiar voice.
