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“It’s not ruthless to have respect for oneself. And being selective about who you spend your time with is part of selfcare. Maybe it’s to do with getting older. Time is precious. Time is always precious of course, but when we’re young we squander it dreadfully.”
Clare had a feeling she wasn’t doing it right. “So you not only decluttered your house, you decluttered your social calendar.”
“I did. And I can honestly say that I enjoy all my current friends immensely.” She leaned forward. “Did you enjoy Becca? Really? Did you have fun together? Did you laugh? Did you know that she had your back and would always fight for you? I don’t think so. Friendship has much in common with romantic love—caring about someone, loving them, should make you generous. You should want the best for them. You don’t try to use them for your own ends.”
Clare blew on her tea to cool it. Did her mother somehow know what she was carrying? Had she guessed?
“Becca was complicated.”
“You won’t find me arguing with that. I don’t know what she did to upset you so, and perhaps it’s best if you don’t tell me because it might not be good for my blood pressure, but it’s time to do what you couldn’t do when she was alive and let her go. And you can do that without guilt. You have my permission. Don’t let her control your life any longer. And remember it’s never too late to make new friends.” Her mother helped herself to another cookie. “Talking of which, how have you been getting on with Flora?”
Clare felt herself blush, knowing her mother wouldn’t have been proud of her if she’d witnessed the first day of Flora’s visit. “I’ve never been good with strangers, as you know, and it felt a little strange having her in the house. I had this ridiculous feeling that I was being disloyal to Becca.”
“And now?”
Clare sat up a little straighter. “Flora is a special person. She’s very relaxing to be with. She lacks Becca’s competitive instinct. I’d never realized how exhausting that side of her was.”
“Poor Becca. She felt she had to prove herself continually. It must have been exhausting for her, too.”
Clare turned back to the photos. There was Becca in a swimsuit, her arm looped around Clare. “I remember that day. She challenged me to a race. I won, and she sulked for two days so I made sure I never beat her again. It wasn’t worth paying the price.” And in that way she’d been a people pleaser, too. Just like Flora, she’d taken the easy route to keep someone happy.
It was ironic to admit that she and Flora probably had more in common than she and Becca ever had.
She placed her hand on the photo, touching Becca’s face. “I miss her. Even though I’m angry with her, I still miss her. And maybe you’re right that I should have ended the friendship, but that would have meant losing touch with Jack, Izzy and Molly.”
“Well fortunately you no longer have to make that decision. You were a good friend to Becca, Clare.” Her mother stood up and took her cup to the dishwasher. “Now let her go.”
Clare knew she was right. Everything that had seemed murky and difficult now seemed clear. She wished she’d talked to her mother sooner. On impulse she walked across the kitchen and hugged her. “Thank you.”
“For what? Saving you from spiders in the loft? Introducing you to the idea that your sex life will still be good in your seventies?”
Clare laughed. “For always being wise. And for keeping the photo albums and labeling everything. I aspire to your level of organization.”
“It’s easy. You just have to be prepared to throw things out.”
And she was going to do that, she really was.
Her mother was about to say something when there was a sound behind them.
They both turned.
Izzy stood in the doorway, with Flora directly behind her. Flora’s hand was on Izzy’s shoulder in a comforting manner.
Clare waited for Izzy to shrug her off, but she didn’t. Did that signal a truce? “Hello you two! Sorry we took so long. There was a long queue of people before us.” She noticed that Flora’s clothes were wrinkled.
“I wondered—” Izzy broke off and glanced at Flora who gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I wanted to talk to you.” Her hair lay damp across one shoulder and her face was pale. “I didn’t know you were busy—”
“She’s not busy, sweetheart! I’m the one who is busy and I shouldn’t be sitting around here chatting.” Clare’s mother walked to the door, hugging Izzy on the way. Then she smiled at Flora. “Would you be kind enough to walk me to the Gatehouse? It will give us a chance to chat, and I’m feeling a little woozy after my accident.”
Clare doubted her mother was feeling in the slightest bit woozy, but she was grateful for her tact. She just hoped she wasn’t going to scandalize Flora with naked photographs and talk of vibrators.
As the kitchen door closed, Izzy shifted awkwardly. “Sorry. I hope she didn’t leave because of me—”
“She didn’t. I’m so pleased it’s just you and me. We seem to have been surrounded by people since you arrived and haven’t had a chance to catch up properly.” In truth they’d had plenty of chances to catch up, but Izzy had ignored all of them.
But not this time.
She sat down at the kitchen table. “This is—honestly, it’s awkward.” She nibbled at the corner of her fingernail. “I don’t know where to start.”
