Age 30: Fourth child – girl
(Update Age 22: 2 children. What was I thinking?! And might need to revise age due to engagement fail)
Animals: A dog, 2 cats and a rabbit
Home: Cottage in Old Town with sea views, garden, roses round the door – just like Auntie Kay’s
Life: Will live happily ever after with husband who adores me just like Mum & Dad and have children who are funny, clever and beautiful. Will NOT be alone like Uncle Alan. Ever.
I swear it took twenty minutes before Clare managed to finish reading it out loud – essential for maximum humiliation effect – because she was laughing so much.
‘My sides hurt,’ she said finally, wiping her eyes. ‘I don’t know what’s most funny – you writing it in the first place or you taking the time to update it in your twenties.In your twenties.And you called yourself a princess.In. Your. Twenties.’
‘It was an important document at the time.’ I folded my arms and glared at her. I meant it. Written shortly after I’d found Uncle Alan, my Life Plan had been deadly serious and was my way of avoiding ending up like him. I’d really believed it would happen. ‘And I’ll just point out that I was an emotional wreck after splitting up with Andy when I added to it. And very drunk. You know I wasn’t in a good place after it ended with him.’
Clare nodded. ‘I remember. So, Sarah Louise Peterson, aged thirty-and-eight-days, what exactly have you achieved off your Life Plan?’
‘Two cats.’ I looked towards Kit and Kat curled up on the duvet. Tears pricked my eyes from the overwhelming disappointment of it all. ‘How useless am I?’ My voice caught in my throat.
‘Not useless,’ Clare said softly. ‘Sad? Yes. Pathetic? Yes. An eejit? Yes. But not useless.’
‘I think there’s a compliment in there. Somewhere.’ I smiled weakly.
‘There is.’
We sat in silence for a while.
‘What if I never meet someone?’ I said eventually. What if I never get married and have kids?’
‘Then you don’t get married and have kids,’ she said, shrugging. ‘So what? You can’t force these things. Actually, you can, but you wouldn’t get your happily ever after. Would you rather be married to your man Jason right now with a gremlin on the way and be miserable, or would you rather be single again with the possibility that it may or may not happen?’
‘Neither. I’d rather be single than with Jason. Definitely no regrets there. But I don’t like the thought of that being the case for the rest of my life. I always wanted to marry and have a family.’
‘That’s pretty obvious from reading this.’ Clare rolled the scroll up again, put the ribbon round it and gently placed it back in the box. ‘I know you won’t want to hear this, but you need to get over this ridiculous obsession with getting married. It’s not the answer to life, the universe and everything you know.’
‘And you’d know that because you’ve been married how many times?’
Clare closed the flaps on the box and pushed it aside. ‘None,’ she said, ‘as you well know. But that’s not the point. I know plenty of married people and, believe me, it’s not the happily ever after you seem to have built it up to be.’
‘It is for some.’
‘Like your parents? I think you’ll find they’re pretty unique. I know you see them as your role models and you want the same, but surely even you must realise that what they have isnotthe norm.’
‘Maybe not. But it shows that true love and true compatibility exists.’
‘For averysmall minority of people. For most people, marriage ends in divorce.’
‘Cynic.’
‘Realist. And if they don’t divorce, they trundle on with neither party making the other happy but not quite being miserableenough to call it quits. Don’t look at me like that. It’s a fact. And the very notion of having a written plan that says you must be married at a certain age… Really? Seriously, Sarah, if it happens it happens. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t. Get used to it.’
I sighed. ‘The thing is, I know I don’tneeda man to fulfil some missing gap in my life but Iwantto meet someone special. Iwantthe happily ever after.’
‘Need. Want. What’s the difference?’
I thought for a moment. ‘Remember our last shopping trip. You didn’tneedthose expensive beige shoes but youwantedthem, didn’t you?’
‘Beige shoes? I take it you’re referring to that stunning pair of nude Manolo Blahniks?’
