Page 11 of In This Together

Of course, she did need people. Everyone did. Andrea would never concede that, but Hannah would always have her best friend’s back.

She ran her fingers across the fine fabrics on display – silk, velour, satin – pushing hangers along the sparse rails to get a better look at the detail of the dresses.

She was thinking black. Floor-length. Maybe…

‘Hannah?’

She turned on the spot to see Rosalie. ‘Ros! I’m just looking for something for Andi to wear to the Presley John concert at MSG. What are you doing here?’

They hugged and kissed each other’s cheeks. ‘Oh, just looking for a little pick-me-up.’

‘Is everything okay?’

Rosalie wafted a hand flippantly. ‘Same old. George ditched me last week. Can you believe that? Another one bites the dust.’

‘Oh, Ros, I’m sorry. He seemed quite nice at the christening. Did you really like him?’

Picking out a sequinned gold top and holding it against her chest, Rosalie twisted her face in a way that suggested she was either thinking or breaking wind. ‘You know, I thought I really liked him but I’m realising he was just… I don’t know, plugging a hole for a while.’

Hannah started working through hanging dresses. ‘How do you mean?’

‘I think I need more in my life. I mean, I have my hobbies and family and friends, but sometimes I feel like all I do is shop and eat out or work out. I look at you, with the kids, and Andrea, with her own label now, and I think, I could do those things, you know?’

Hannah chose in that moment to exercise a lesson she tried to teach her kids – when you don’t have anything nice to say…

And in the same amount of time it took Hannah to restrain herself, Rosalie lost – or changed – her train of thought. ‘Say, we should grab lunch. Maybe a Bellini?’

She couldn’t hold it any longer… Hannah bit down on her lip but couldn’t stop her laughter from escaping. ‘Ros, I love you.’

It took a second for Rosalie’s moody pout to turn to a laugh too. ‘Okay, so I’m not saying it’s going to be an overnight transition or anything.’

The sound of Abba’s ‘Dancing Queen’ coming from Hannah’s purse stole her attention. For a fleeting moment, as it always did, it reminded her of the days when her long blonde hair flowed down her back, ten inches longer than it was now. When her blue eyes weren’t buried in black bags. Before she had wrinkles and cellulite and dry skin on her hands from domestic cleaning products.

She fumbled in her bag, not able to find her cell. Still, it rang. ‘All right, all right. I hear ya. Where the hell is it?’

She was about to dump her mom-bag on the ground when Rosalie’s perfectly manicured hands held it up. In that moment, with that small act, Hannah appreciated her friend more than ever.

Thank you,she mouthed as she finally located the cell.

‘Hello, Hannah speaking.’

‘Hello, Mrs Washington, it’s Ms Hellisham here, from TJ’s nursery. I’m afraid he’s been vomiting and he needs to be collected.’

It was one of those phone calls that Hannah could really do withoutanyday,but especially any day this week.

When she got these phone calls with the first kid, she would panic. Her heart would race and her mind would immediately go into overdrive thinking about all the horrific scenarios she had read about online – brain tumours, stomach cancer, internal haemorrhage.

With the second kid, she would have at least led with,Is he okay?

But TJ was number three. She was a pro at this mommy business now.

‘How much vomit are we talking about here? Does he have a temperature?’ she asked the very pretty, twenty-something-year-old with naturally pert boobs, Ms Hellisham.

‘He doesn’t have a temperature but he’s been sick three times. One was, well, projectile.’

Hannah laughed. ‘Rod and I sometimes call him the exorcist. He has real bad acid reflux, Ms Hellisham. He’s fine.’

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Washington, but TJ can’t stay here today.’

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