Page 54 of The Bordeaux Book Club

‘Yes,’ Grace said, ‘but it’s OK to feel down about things too. Even lucky people are allowed to be human.’

‘Thanks.’

‘But do you mind,’ Grace said, emptying the washing up bowl and drying her hands on a fluffy, white hand-towel that hung close to the sink on a chrome ring, ‘if I say something… well, personal?’

Monica felt herself stiffen, a kind of defence mechanism. ‘Sure,’ she said.

‘It’s just… and I had to learn this for myself. I understand that you want Peter around more at the moment. It makes absolute sense, what with Bella being so tiny. But long term, you can’t rely on a man to complete you. They are, after all, only human.’

‘But…’

Grace held up a hand. ‘I’m not saying Peter isn’t a wonderful husband, who loves you enormously. But if his being away is leaving this sort of gap in you, then maybe you need to learn to fill it with yourself.’

‘Sorry?’ said Monica, not quite understanding.

‘Well, when I ended up here alone…’Grace said, brushing over the details, ‘I had two choices. Wither away or seize life. And I chose to seize,’ she said. ‘And I realised that although it was nice to have a husband, I didn’t need anyone else to complete me. I was… am, already complete.’

Monica nodded. ‘That’s amazing. And I agree, in theory. It’s just… I’ve kind of lost sight of who I am.’

Grace put a hand on her shoulder. ‘We all do,’ she said. ‘And it wasn’t easy getting to where I am now – within myself. We all lose ourselves, adapt to others. Forget who we are because of jobs, circumstances, babies… And, well you already know, life changes us. Changes how we see ourselves. Changes how others see us.’

Monica nodded, a hand hovering close to her face, ready to swipe away a tear.

‘But that’s why it’s important to have a good relationship with yourself. To be your own champion, cheerleader. To be the person who forces you to get up, to go out and try something new. And it’s hard. But over time, you can build something… well, wonderful.’

Monica nodded again, silent.

‘I’m not saying my life is perfect,’ Grace said, ‘far from it. And I’m not saying that I don’t sometimes miss… well, having someone special in my life. But the point is that I know now that I can survive – thrive – on my own. That I can depend on myself. That I’ve got my own back. If someone comes along, it would be lovely. But if they leave, or never arrive at all… that I will be perfectly OK, content.’

Monica smiled. ‘That does sound good,’ she said.

‘You were saying about not recognising yourself,’ Grace said, taking the obsolete tea towel from her friend’s hands and folding it neatly over a chair back to dry. ‘And I understand. But darling, that would have happened anyway. We change, we evolve, not always for the better. I sometimes look in the mirror and think to myself, who is that old hag?’

Monica laughed. ‘But you’re beautiful, Grace. Surely you must know that?’

Grace kept her eyes on the tea towel, slightly uncomfortable. ‘Well you make the best of what you’ve got,’ Grace said. ‘But you have to be realistic. Nobody wants to die young, but if you wanta long life, then you have to accept that ageing, changing is going to be involved. And it’s liberating in a way. All the sagging and wrinkling and becoming invisible.’

‘How so?’

‘You get seen as a person. Not just as an attractive woman, but a person first and foremost. It’s strange at first, but then it’s kind of amazing. Because you realise people are finally seeingyou,’ she said. ‘Seeingwhoyou are, notwhatyou are.’

Monica nodded. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘When you put it like that…’

‘So you need to decide,’ Grace said, ‘who Monica is as a person. What do you want? Need? What things make you happy? And don’t wait for someone else to bring those to you. Build them for yourself. You love Peter, and he loves you, and that’s wonderful. But it has to be the icing on the cake, not the cake itself.’

21

Leah drove the fork into the earth, watching it crumble beneath the metal spikes. She patted at a clump and it broke down in submission. Then she stopped, breathing heavily.

She should have said something before, she thought. She should have confronted Nathan way back when she’d seen him with that woman. She’d come back from following him with Grace determined to have it out with him. But she’d held back. And then, it had seemed as if the meetings might have stopped. Nathan hadn’t gone AWOL for a week.

But today, he’d come downstairs looking dapper and her heart had sunk. ‘All dressed up?’ she’d asked pointedly.

‘I thought I’d just…’ he’d said, rattling off some excuse about clearing his head, and looking at veg prices on the Saturday market before disappearing in the car.

Now, she was here, digging over a bed close to the house – one they’d used for radishes in the past but that she wanted to grow mixed lettuce leaves on – alone. Her arms were aching, her legs were sore. But the most pain she experienced was in her chest: her heart.

When she’d heard the word ‘heartache’ before, she hadn’t thought it was literal thing. More a description of feeling blue. But she felt it now – a continuous hum in her chest. Because suddenly, she couldn’t even deny to herself that something was going on.

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