Page 3 of A Midlife Marriage

Caro nodded. ‘Matt asked me to stay on and do it. It’s a big one, but it will be the last one.’

Helen picked up a cream horn pastry. ‘How do you feel about that?’

‘Fine.’ Caro smiled as she turned the sandwich over and took another tiny bite. ‘I knew that when we made the move. There just isn’t time to keep coming down.’

As she spoke, Helen held her hand under her chin, catching cream. ‘I just find it hard to picture you in the middle of nowhere,’ she said, pastry sticking to her lips.

‘Londale is hardly in the middle of nowhere. It has a railway station.’ Caro laughed, but it was a lone sound, and it remained one, even as she looked up ready to share the joke. ‘The cottage is quite lovely,’ she continued. ‘Original sash windows, a stone fireplace, the Aga has three ovens, and the high street is so quaint. There’s a village store that sells just about everything.’

Kay nodded.

Across the table, Helen wiped cream from her fingertips.

‘It seemed like a fair compromise. As soon as we started looking, I knew Poland was too far for me and Tomasz wanted to get out of London.’

‘But it is a trial run?’ Kay said.

‘Three months.’ Caro picked up her napkin. ‘Of which we have six weeks left.’ Although Tomasz is in his element. He’s already decided.’

‘And you?’ Helen said carefully, ‘Have you decided?’

‘Almost.’ Caro shrugged. Then, ‘Yes … yes, I think so.’

‘Are you self-sufficient?’ Kay said.

‘That’s the plan. We’re going to have to budget.’

‘So, no more botox?’ Smiling, Helen picked up her champagne. ‘Or is there an allowance for that?’

‘Well…’ Caro said and smiled. ‘As I’m in charge of the budget.’

‘I see.’ Nodding, Helen held her glass at her lips.Original sash windows, stone fireplace…Caro might as well have been describing the family home she herself had so recently left. A house that had started as a home, morphed into an identity and finished as a prison. ‘That’s marriage I suppose.’

‘What is?’ Caro said guardedly.

‘Compromise.’

Caro didn’t speak and as Helen glanced across the table and caught Kay’s eye, she knew that if not burst, she had slightly deflated, Caro’s balloon. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t convinced, and it didn’t matter that she was a veteran of married life and Caro was a rookie. Today was not the time or place. Abashed, she added quietly, ‘I hope it works, Caro … the smallholding, I mean. Not the wedding.’ She smiled. ‘Obviously that’s going to work, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you looking so well.’

‘Me too,’ Kay echoed. She squeezed Caro’s hand. ‘Do you feel different?’

Caro dropped her head to one side. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I do feel very different. They say that a change is as good as a rest and this is certainly a change, and after everything that …’ Suddenly she stopped talking, shaking her head as she picked up her napkin, folded it in half and placed it on her plate. For a long moment she looked at it. ‘What about you, Helen?’ And with a small smile, Caro looked up. ‘You must feel different too?’

‘Actually,’ Kay blurted, but she was speaking through a mouthful of scone. ‘Wait a minute.’ She swallowed a hastymouthful of champagne, washed the crumbs away and let out a small polite burp. ‘I think,’ she managed, ‘Helen looks more like herself than she has in years. That’s exactly how I remember her in university.’

‘You mean the t-shirt?’ Helen looked at her chest.

Kay nodded. ‘It reminds me of theFor Fox Sake, Stop the Hunting!you wore all through the second year of university. Remember?’

‘I do.’ Helen laughed. ‘This is supposed to be for Jack, but I haven’t unpacked, and I couldn’t find anything else.’

‘Is it really called that?’ Kay said, titling her head to read.

‘Yes, it is!’ Helen pulled the t-shirt taught. ‘Native Americans use such figurative language. You know, White Feather? Raging Bull? And when you see this place, it makes total sense.’

‘So, what would they call you?’ Caro smiled. ‘She Who Is Born Again?’

‘I don’t know about that.’ Helen laughed. But Caro was closer than she knew. She was almost born again, and she did feel very different. From the inside out, she had grown confidence, like Kay had grown her hair back. Six weeks on the road, had shown her what she was capable of. Just imagine six months. She had. She’d only been back forty-eight hours. Only had a brief couple of hours with her daughter Libby, and her grandson Ben and already she couldn’t stop thinking about moving on. It felt like a betrayal. Libby had been overjoyed to see her, voicing a desire to be gone again would be a dagger to her heart.

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