Page 157 of Where Do We Go From Here?
‘I know. And she kept offering me drinks, too. She was really quite insistent. Even though I’d told her that I’d stopped… And I found that upsetting really… It seemed a bit disrespectful to put me in a position where I had to keep saying no.’
‘She probably doesn’t like the fact you’ve stopped.’
‘No, that’s exactly it. I think I’m like a mirror to the fact that she can’t.’
‘So youhavefallen out?’
‘Well, I phoned her a week later – I got her answerphone, repeatedly. So in the end I left a message saying that it had upset me – her trying to ply me with drink. And I said I was worried about their health. And she never phoned back. And that was April, as I say. So I think that friendship may have reached its expiry date.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Harry says, caressing her arm. ‘It’s hard losing a friend.’
‘I suppose it’s bound to happen at some point in a lifetime. But it does hurt. And I feel a bit guilty, I suppose. Because she’s been good to me over the years.’
‘She might come back, one day,’ Harry says. ‘She might think about what you said, and sober up.’
‘I hope so,’ Wendy says. ‘Because otherwise, I worry that thenext bit of news will be that she’s in hospital. Or dead. Maybe I’ll try again at some point, I don’t know. It’s a tough one.’
Because Wendy so wants Harry to see it, they end up back at Cap d’Antibes.
The sky is misty blue and it’s far colder than when she came with Fiona, but it’s beautiful all the same.
As they pass through the rusty gate and start their way along the coastal path, Wendy’s phone, in her pocket, pings with a message.
‘Kids?’ Harry asks, from in front.
‘No, just Prue saying happy Christmas,’ Wendy calls back.
‘You two are besties now, right?’ he asks, moving to her side as the path widens. ‘You lose one, you win one?’
‘Huh,’ Wendy says. ‘No, it’s not the same. It’s not the same at all. I’ve known Jill for decades. But I do like Prue. I think she’s OK. And she’s going through so much.’
‘Well, it’s sweet, you being there for her.’
‘I just try to listen, really. I don’t think she has anyone else to talk to, and I don’t know… somehow I feel like I get it.’
‘Because of your uncle?’
‘No, I was more thinking of Mum. Prue’s angry. She’s quite reasonably furious about the cards she’s been dealt. And I know how that feels.’
‘So you’re a friendly ear,’ Harry says. ‘That’s kind. As long as she doesn’t bring you down.’
‘No, it’s more than that,’ Wendy says, as they round the corner and climb a set of steps. ‘It turns out, I’m quite a good listener.’
‘God, it’s lovely here,’ Harry says.
‘Yes,’ Wendy agrees. ‘I really like it. And look at that house over there. Imagine living there.’
In the distance, on an outcrop of red rocks, sits a mansion surrounded by crashing waves.
‘The window cleaning on that place would be hell,’ Harry says, then, ‘And you are a good listener, I know.’
They walk on in silence for a while, with only the sound of the waves and the gulls. When finally Wendy decides that this is probably as good a time as any, she says, ‘Actually, I’ve been thinking about something. And I wanted to get your input.’
‘Sure,’ Harry says. ‘Go on.’
‘I’ve been wondering about maybe retraining,’ she tells him. ‘As a counsellor. I mean, I’ve barely started looking into it, but…’
‘Oh,’ Harry says, surprised. ‘OK.’
