‘Um, you’ve met Alfie, right? That’s the exact definition of parenting.’
I run the water and let the dishes soak. I’d like to tell her how much I’ll miss our lunches and our chats, but now isn’t the time. I think never is probably more appropriate.
‘So, what now?’ she asks. ‘Job-wise?’
‘Well, I’m guessing I’ll start being rejected by law firms again after Christmas. I’d like to get back to the real world. Ideally a job where I don’t have to ask everyone how old they are and hope they don’t pee on me.’
‘Hmm, you say that, but I’m not convinced,’ she responds, taking a seat. ‘I think fictional characters might be your calling. Easter bunny next, maybe?’
I laugh and join her back at the table. ‘Tempting, but no. I don’t want to be out of the game too long. Having paid a small fortune in tuition fees to get my degree, it would be nice to use my talents.’
Sarah purses her lips and nods in agreement. ‘I know what you mean. When Adam, Alfie’s dad, died, I had to put my career on hold. I feel like I’m wasting my training, but let’s just say artists don’t exactly have a reliable source of income.’
‘You’re an artist?’
‘I am. I wasn’t always a barista! That was just a means to an end and I’m predicting that end will be when Alfie’s about forty.’
‘I’m impressed,’ I admit. ‘I was so shit at art in school. My teacher used to just sigh at me as soon as I sat down.’
She smiles, twisting the bottom of her hair. ‘I was just shit at everything else. Mild dyslexia mixed with hormone-fuelled rebellion was never going to fast-track me to Oxford or Cambridge. Luckily, I got into art college and even had a little show in Camden. Sold a few pieces here and there afterwards. Lily Allen owns three of my paintings.’
I watch her blush as she realises her humble brag, but she has every right to feel proud of herself.
‘That’s amazing. Seriously. So, you don’t paint at all anymore?’
‘Nah,’ she replies. ‘I was too sad to paint for a long time and then I became too busy once Alfie started nursery and I took on more shifts at work. The time just flies by so quickly. When you’re solely responsible for a little one, it’s hard to find time to catch your breath.’
‘You must miss Adam,’ I say, and immediately I regret it. We’ve never talked about Adam before.Yeah, bring up Alfie’s dead dad while she’s at her new boyfriend’s house for Christmas, that’s a sensitive move, you utter prick.‘Shit, sorry if that’s too personal.’
She smiles. ‘It’s fine. He was a good man. . . made me laugh a lot. It’s just so fucking unfair. If the other driver had just taken a break. . . if Adam had just left half an hour later. . .’
‘It is unfair,’ I agree. Sarah pauses and bites her now trembling lip. ‘I’m most sad that Alfie didn’t have more time with him.’
I hear her voice trail off as her eyes well up and I put my hand on top of hers.
‘My dad vanished before I was born,’ I find myself saying. ‘And my mum had to raise me alone, which she did like a total champ. I know she wished that I had some kind of male role model in my life, but if it’s any consolation, I never missed him. She was all I needed,’ I explain. ‘It was always just her and me; like you and Alfie, I guess.’
‘It wasn’t always just us.’
‘Of course not, sorry.’ I cringe, fumbling around for what to say next. ‘I mean, my situation is totally different, but I understand loss. I miss my mum a lot.’
Sarah smiles sadly and asks gently, ‘She isn’t around anymore?’
‘No, she died when I was twenty. Breast cancer.’ I take a deep breath as I feel that familiar jolt of sadness in my chest. ‘She was already stage IV when she was diagnosed, so there was nothing anyone could do. She didn’t even tell me that she was sick; I mean, I understand why, she didn’t want me to put my life on hold and come home just to watch her die, but I’d at least have liked the choice.’
‘You weren’t at home with her?’
I shake my head. ‘I was at university. I was with Matt when I got the call and he pretty much held my hand through the whole thing. I’m not sure what I’d have done without his support. He stepped in to help clear her flat, dealt with her landlord and made all the funeral arrangements. He was the one who made sure I remembered to eat, to leave the flat once in a while. Christ, he pretty much made sure I continued to breathe in and out.’
‘Ah. I can see why you two are so close.’
I nod. ‘He’s the best.’
And now here you are, ten years later, and you’ve been fantasising about his girlfriend for the past week.This thought hits me hard.What kind of friend am I?Sarah mistakes my look of remorse for one of sorrow.
‘I’m sorry,’ she says. ‘Life is shit sometimes. It’s so hard when parents get sick. Alfie’s only got the one set of grandparents and my dad’s MS got worse in his mid-sixties and now my mum cares for him full-time. That’s why I go to them every year for Christmas; my house isn’t exactly wheelchair-friendly.’ She trails off sadly.
‘Shit, what a conversation for Christmas dinner. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,’ I say softly, but she shakes her head, gently dabbing the first sign of any visible tears.
