The Happiness List

by Annie Lyons

  Heather turned to Luke to share her enjoyment and was disappointed to see that he was looking at his phone, scrolling through emails, not taking the slightest notice. She turned back to watch the dancers again, a familiar feeling in the pit of her stomach. Couldn’t he switch off for one day?

  When the dance had finished, Pamela gave a curtsey and Barry bowed. Heather clapped with enthusiasm. ‘That was beautiful, really beautiful.’

  ‘Yeah – bravo,’ said Luke, shoving his phone into his pocket and joining in the applause.

  ‘Thank you.’ Pamela smiled, before nodding at her husband as if dismissing him. ‘Thanks, Barry.’

  ‘My pleasure,’ he said. He hesitated, looking as if he wanted to say something else but wasn’t sure where to begin. ‘Right, I’d best be off. Bye then.’

  ‘Bye,’ said Pamela, turning away.

  Heather felt a pang of sympathy as she watched Barry leave. ‘Just nipping to the loo,’ she told Luke, heading towards the entrance hall. She followed Barry onto the street. ‘Barry, wait!’

  He stopped in his tracks. ‘Everything okay, Heather?’

  ‘Everything’s fine,’ she said. ‘But I’m worried about you and Pamela.’

  ‘You and me both,’ he admitted.

  She smiled. ‘Which is why I think you should let me and Fran help you win her back.’

  ‘Win her back?’

  Heather nodded. ‘You need to woo your wife, make her feel loved again.’

  ‘But I do love her!’

  ‘How often do you tell her?’

  Barry stared at his shoes. ‘You may have a point there. What do you think I should do?’

  Heather winked and tapped the side of her nose. ‘Leave it to me,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a plan.’

  Heather stretched her arms behind her head, luxuriating in the feel of the cashmere mattress and goose-down duvet on her skin. She stared up at the blue silk canopy hanging above the four-poster bed and sighed. ‘That’s it – I’ve decided. We’re moving here. I want to be the lady of Chilford Park.’

  ‘If you promise to do that with me every Saturday afternoon, I think it would be worth the money,’ grinned Luke, putting down his champagne glass and pulling her into his arms.

  ‘Deal. And I don’t know about you but I think it would be a crying shame not to make the most of this luxuriously comfortable bed,’ she said, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

  ‘If you insist,’ he said, before kissing her full on the mouth and working his way to her neck.

  Heather closed her eyes and allowed herself to sink into the soft, delicious moment. Now this was what she called quality time. The frustration she’d felt at Luke’s long hours and endless work commitments started to drift away. Finally, Luke understood and, boy, was he making up for it by booking a surprise night at their wedding venue. Thoughtful and extravagant. Heather could get used to this.

  Luke’s phone buzzed from the bedside table. He glanced towards it.

  ‘Leave it,’ she urged, kissing his cheek.

  He hesitated. But not for long. ‘Sorry, Heather, I gotta take it – you know how it is.’

  Yeah, I know how it is but I thought today was going to be different. I was actually starting to believe that you understood what was important.

  He reached for his phone, frowning when he saw the caller ID. He jumped out of bed, pulled on a robe and made for the door as he answered. ‘Hey, what’s up?’

  Heather gave a heavy sigh and flopped back onto the bed, trying to shake off her creeping sense of disappointment.

  One day. Just one day. That’s all she wanted. One day of his complete attention. Was that too much to ask?

  And yet here she lay again, waiting for him to come back. Waiting for her life to start. Because that’s how it had been for the longest time – ever since her parents died really. She had been waiting for someone to love her, to try to fill the gap left by their absence. Everyone needed one person in their life who loved them unconditionally, didn’t they? A parent or a partner – a person who was on your side whatever, like Fran with her kids or Barry with Pamela. She’d thought it was Luke but now she was starting to question this. Had she fallen for him because she actually loved him or because he fitted her circumstances? And did he actually fit after all or was it a case of square pegs in round holes?

  When Luke returned a while later, he looked shamefaced and harassed. In days gone by, Heather would have felt sorry for him, but today, she’d had enough.

  ‘I am so sorry, Heth,’ he began, ready with the excuse. ‘That was Mike. He’d had a call from his boss in the States and they needed to check something with me.’

  Heather folded her arms. ‘Sounds as if you should be doing Mike’s job for him and getting paid for it too,’ she said curtly.

  ‘Oh come on, Heth, I said sorry.’ She heard his irritation – clearly he wanted to close the subject and move on. He was out of luck.

  ‘It’s Saturday, Luke,’ said Heather. ‘Do you know what most normal couples are doing on a Saturday?’

  ‘Having dance lessons with their uninvited lodger?’ he said in a snarky tone.

  Heather glared at him. It was an unexpected blow, right below the belt. ‘That is out of order. You’re the one in the wrong – don’t start dragging Pamela into it.’

  ‘Yeah, but it doesn’t enable us to spend “quality time” together, does it?’ He made inverted commas in the air as he said this, which annoyed Heather even more. ‘I mean she’s a nice lady and all, but exactly how long is she planning to stay?’

  Heather jutted out her chin. ‘It’s my house. She can stay as long as she likes.’

  Luke scowled. ‘Oh-ho, so it’s your house now, is it?’

  ‘Yeah, it is.’ Heather was surprised at how determined she felt as she said this, as if him picking on Pamela had triggered an urge to fight back. Bring it on.

  Luke paced the room. ‘Well, that’s fine. I’m working all hours to pay for your dream wedding and yet I appear to be a mere lodger in your house.’

  Heather shrugged. ‘I pay for the house and I could pay for the wedding too if needed. You don’t have to work as hard as you do.’

  ‘Yeah, but I want to. It’s my career and I want to do well.’

  ‘I know, but it’s my life and I don’t want a husband who works all the time.’

  ‘I’m here now.’

  Heather sighed. ‘Yes, but what about the next time your phone rings? Luke, I get that your job is important to you but I should be too. How are we supposed to have a life together if you’re working all the time? And even today, when you faithfully promised me that you wouldn’t, you’re answering calls from your boss. How can I trust you when you do that?’

  Luke ran a hand through his hair and looked sheepish. ‘Okay. You’re right,’ he said, holding up his hands. ‘I’m sorry. That got out of hand. I shouldn’t have taken the call.’

  She nodded. ‘And, for your information, I have a plan to get Barry and Pamela back together so we’ll have our house back to ourselves soon, okay? And I do mean our house – I shouldn’t have said that. Sorry.’

  He pulled her into his arms. ‘You’re an amazing woman, Heather Brown, you know that, don’t you?’ She gave a small uncertain smile. ‘And look.’ He held up his phone and pressed the ‘off’ button before throwing it into the holdall on the floor. ‘It’s staying off for the rest of the weekend. I’m sorry – I love you and I’m here for you. Please can we try again?’

  She stared into his eyes and tried to shake off the niggling feeling of frustration.

  You love each other, you’re getting married and he’s trying to make amends. Don’t cut off your nose to spite your face. Not now. You need this – this is your big chance of happiness. Don’t blow it now.

  ‘Of course. I love you too,’ she said, wondering why the words felt forced all of a sudden, as if part of her was starting to question what she really felt at all.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Fran


  Happiness List Thing

  1. Accept a world without Andy (too soon!)

  2. ‘Digital Detox’ day with kids

  3. Go on even more walks with Alan

  4. Have dinner with a nice man (NOT a date) & laugh if appropriate

  (he is nice and I did laugh)

  5. Stop feeling guilty and like Gary (EPIC fail)

  6. Take up gardening again

  It was her mother who galvanized her into action. ‘So are you serious about the gardening or is it another of your passing fads?’

  Fran chose to ignore the implied criticism because actually, it was fair. She had fancied herself as everything from a quilt-maker to a plumber in the past. When she went into hospital to have her children, she’d come home on both occasions convinced that she’d make a brilliant midwife. However, when she considered it whilst not under the influence of Entonox, she realized that she actually hated the sight of bodily fluids. As childbirth was essentially the process of excreting pretty much everything your body had to offer, she’d decided it wasn’t for her.

  This time, it was different. ‘I am serious about it,’ she insisted.

  ‘Good. How about coming to Wisley with my friends and me next week then?’

  ‘Wisley? The garden? With a bunch of old ladies?’

  ‘I’m not sure I appreciate your tone or choice of words, Francesca,’ said Angela, arching a brow. ‘Would you like to come or not?’

  ‘Sorry, Mum,’ laughed Fran. ‘Yeah, why not? It’ll give me some inspiration for finally taking control of the gigantic cat toilet that is our garden. I’ll see if Heather can collect Charlie from school.’

  ‘Lovely,’ said Angela.

  A few days later, Fran sat with every muscle clenched as she remembered all the reasons why she hated being driven anywhere by her mother. Angela was a terrible driver, with poor spatial awareness and a scant regard for the mirror-signal-manoeuvre basics of motoring. After a near-miss on the motorway and several other blared-horn and shaken-fist incidents, Fran staggered from the car, feeling an overwhelming urge to kiss the ground with gratitude.

  ‘We’re meeting for the talk by the bird bath at eleven,’ said Angela, oblivious to her daughter’s terror. ‘So that gives us just enough time to grab a coffee.’

  Or a double vodka, thought Fran shakily as she followed her mother along the path leading towards lush green lawns and gardening nirvana.

  She took in her surroundings and felt her shoulders relax. It was textbook gorgeous – nature in all its awe-inspiring beauty. She watched the chattering army of women of her mother’s age strolling throughout the verdant landscape and decided that they had it sussed. There was a lot to be said for spending your retirement visiting places like these – it was food for the soul with the added bonus of delicious quiche for lunch.

  They bought their coffees and made their way over to meet the others ready for the talk. Fran felt about three years old again as her mother’s friends clucked and delighted in her presence but she rather liked it too. She had wondered about giving the talk a miss but their guide was so engaging and knowledgeable that Fran surprised herself by being genuinely interested in what she had to say. She took them on a guided walk along the mixed borders and Fran found herself eyeing the plants greedily, like a child in a sweet shop. She didn’t understand everything the guide told them but Fran loved this. It was as if a mysterious world was being revealed to her and she longed to learn more.

  The guide drew their attention to the different plants, talking about Phlox paniculata ‘Eva Cullum’ or Helenium ‘Moerheim Beauty’ and Fran felt a thrill at this exotic world. She started to recall plants from when she had gardened in the dim and distant past; verbena, cosmos, dahlias. It was like reconnecting with old friends.

  When the talk was over, their group started to head back to the café for lunch.

  ‘Coming, dear?’ asked Fran’s mother.

  ‘I’m going to have another look at the borders. I’ll follow you in.’

  Her mother smiled. ‘Okay, darling.’

  Fran took her time, pausing to look at the names of the plants she liked most. She scrabbled in her bag, pulling out an old receipt and a biro and began to make a list as she walked. She brushed past one plant and was hit with a sweet fresh scent of grapefruit so familiar that it took her breath away. She glanced down at the plant, bursting with hundreds of purple-blue flowers and was transported back to her grandparents’ garden – helping her grandpa pick loganberries; earning a penny for every weed she and her brother collected; being soothed as her granny pressed dock leaves onto to her stinging legs after she fell into a bed of nettles. She blinked back unexpected tears and bent down to read the description.

  Salvia ‘Phyllis Fancy’ – salvia is derived from the Latin ‘salvere’ meaning ‘to save’.

  Fran added it to the list; her shopping list of new possibilities. ‘Come on then, Phyllis,’ she said. ‘Let’s see if you can live up to your name.’

  She was in a good mood when she arrived at Hope Street Hall later that week and grinned as Heather hurried over, her face guarded like a secret agent about to impart a top secret. ‘We haven’t got much time,’ she said, glancing furtively over her shoulder to where Pamela was in conversation with Nik.

  ‘All right, 007.’ Fran grinned. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘I’m hatching a plan to help Barry woo Pamela – the poor man doesn’t have a clue!’

  ‘Tell me about it. I went round there today to collect a book on roses and had to put the washing machine on for him! So what did you have in mind?’

  Heather pursed her lips. ‘I’m thinking flowers, candles, dinner, champagne.’

  ‘Sounds perfect. When?’

  ‘Friday night?’

  ‘Sure your fiancé won’t mind?’

  Heather bit her lip. ‘He’s out on Friday.’

  ‘Working again?’

  ‘No, I think this is some pre-stag stag do with work colleagues.’

  ‘Fancy.’ Fran detected an air of despondency from her friend. ‘Always here if you need a chat.’

  Heather gave a grateful smile. ‘I’m fine. Honestly. It’s all good. So you’re up for my master plan, Agent Parker?’ she asked.

  Fran grinned. ‘I love it! I’ll have to bring Charlie but she’ll be all over this. It’s a fantastic idea.’

  ‘What’s a fantastic idea?’ asked Pamela, appearing next to Heather, who shot a panicked look at Fran.

  ‘Oh, erm, my new garden plans,’ said Fran, wincing. ‘There’s lots to do but I’ve got some fantastic ideas.’ Heather grimaced comically.

  ‘Well, I hope Barry is being helpful.’

  ‘Very.’ Fran nodded. ‘I mean ideally we need about ten strong men to help us but we’ll get there.’ Pamela smiled thoughtfully.

  ‘Good evening, my friends,’ said Nik. ‘I hope you’re all well. How are we faring with our new hobbies?’

  ‘I’ve spent a small fortune on new plants so I’m considerably poorer but I’m bloody loving it,’ said Fran with a grin.

  Nik smiled. ‘Excellent work – who was it who said that if you have a library and a garden, you have everything you need?’

  ‘Cicero!’ declared Emma. ‘What do I win?’

  ‘Know-it-all of the week award,’ said Tash. They all laughed.

  ‘It sounds as if you’re all making excellent progress,’ said Nik. ‘So, I’ve got a new topic for us tonight. This week we are considering the world outside ourselves.’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’ asked Sue, leaning forwards.

  ‘Well essentially, to use a different quote, no man or indeed woman is an island.’

  ‘John Donne,’ said Tash, nudging Emma smugly.

  ‘I definitely want you two on my quiz team,’ joked Fran.

  Nik smiled as the laughter died down. ‘In truth, it’s about remembering the people around us. It is very easy these days to live in a bubble, dwelling on our own problems but if we reach outside our own world say by
volunteering or spending time with others who might benefit from our help, we can find great meaning and even greater satisfaction. I know that Hope Street has a wonderful community so we should be able to tap into that during our discussions and group work. I have an exercise to help us consider the other people in the room. I would like you to approach another person, not necessarily someone from your usual group but it can be. I want you to tell them something good you’ve noticed about them – something you think they should know. I’ll give you an example. Jim?’

  ‘Yes, Nik?’ grinned Jim, jumping to his feet.

  Nik put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Jim, I would like you to know that I appreciate how cheerful you are when I meet you on Hope Street. It always brightens my day.’

  ‘Really?’ said Jim. ‘Thanks, Nik.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’ He turned back to the group with a smile. ‘Get the idea? So, you can approach as many people as you like. The simple fact is that by being kind and thoughtful to others, you are also being kind to yourself. Give it a try.’

  Heather turned to Fran and Pamela. ‘For the record, I want to say how glad I am that I’ve met you two. I honestly didn’t think I’d get anything out of this course, but actually, your friendship means the world to me.’

  ‘Aww, that’s nice. Shame I can’t stand you,’ joked Fran.

  ‘You two are like daughters to me!’ cried Pamela, pulling them both into a hug.

  ‘Team happy!’ declared Heather.

  Fran pulled a face. ‘I’m sorry, but you are upsetting my sensibilities as an editor by using “happy” as a noun. The word is “happiness”.’

  Heather laughed. ‘Team happiness?’

  Fran see-sawed her head from side to side. ‘I can live with it.’