The Happiness List

by Annie Lyons

  ‘Language, Jude!’ scolded Angela. Fran and Jude ignored her, their eyes locked on one another – fierce and stubborn.

  The truth will out and it will hurt.

  ‘Pardon me for mentioning it but losing your father wasn’t exactly normal,’ snapped Fran.

  Jude threw up his hands in despair. ‘I know that. For God’s sake, Mum, of course I know that. But he’s gone and you have to accept that because I have. I totally get it. I’ll never forget him but I won’t let it stop me living my life. Like you do.’

  ‘I do not!’ Fran was on her feet now, anger rising up inside her – anger that she had no right to.

  Jude held her gaze. ‘Yes you do. The memory box, this creepy birthday party, the way you cling on to that bloody sofa even though you hate it!’ Fran opened her mouth to protest but Jude held up a hand. ‘There’s no point in denying it. You’ve got to move on and let us move on too.’ Fran could see the desperation in his face and felt her heart lurch with the realization that she’d failed him. ‘I just want to be a normal kid again, instead of forever being that kid whose dad died. You have to accept that he’s gone. I have.’

  ‘Well I’m sorry if I’ve let you down, Jude,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Oh, I’m sure Jude doesn’t mean that, do you, lad?’ asked her dad, his face creased with worry.

  Jude didn’t answer. He stared at Fran. ‘You have to let me move on with my life. And you have to accept that Dad’s gone and move on with yours too.’

  Fran felt as if the breath had been knocked out of her lungs.

  You wanted the truth and there it is. In all its stripped-down, plain-speaking glory.

  ‘I need some air,’ she gasped, heading to the back door.

  Her father went to follow but Angela touched his arm. ‘Let her go, Bill.’

  Fran walked towards her freshly cultivated flower beds, taking in the hydrangeas, whose blowsy blue and white blooms were starting to appear, and the day lilies with their fat green buds, ready to explode into life.

  ‘This is the best time of year,’ Barry had told her when she popped round to pick up some seedlings the other day. ‘When the growing season gets into its stride and everything is about to burst into life – it’s like Christmas!’

  ‘He’s just a big kid.’ Pamela beamed indulgently. Barry leaned over and planted a kiss on her cheek.

  ‘Look at you two,’ teased Fran fondly. ‘Like a couple of teenagers.’

  ‘You’re never too old for a little romance,’ said Pamela with a grin. ‘Which reminds me, I bumped into Elsie Loveday in the post office – she was over the moon with everything you and Gary did in her garden.’

  ‘I’m glad we were able to help,’ said Fran, refusing to take the hint.

  ‘She thought you two were married,’ added Pamela, raising her eyebrows. Barry and Fran smirked at one another. ‘What?’ cried Pamela indignantly. ‘I’m only telling you what she said.’

  Fran shook her head and laughed. ‘Of course you are, Mrs Cupid.’

  ‘You would make a lovely couple,’ declared Pamela with glee. Barry gave her a meaningful look. ‘What?’ said Pamela. ‘It’s the truth.’

  ‘Right, I’m off before Pamela books a church and a vicar,’ said Fran, picking up the seedlings and heading for the door. ‘Thanks for these, Barry. See you lovelies later.’

  Fran glanced back towards the house now. Her father was standing at the window, peering out, a look of concern on his weary face. She glimpsed her mother behind him, hands in prayer position and Jude, in textbook-teenager pose, body slid as far down into his chair as possible, long legs stretched languidly before him. Waiting. For her. In silence. And it was this silence that hit her suddenly – a mirror to the truth. Jude’s truth. Because if anything he’d said had been untrue or unjust, her mother would be setting him straight right now. Yet Fran could see that she was utterly composed and when Angela reached out to pat Jude’s hand, she realized that she had a clear choice.

  Ignore the truth or face it head on.

  Her mother had tried to tell her numerous times but it took a taciturn fourteen-year-old to ensure that her heart heard what her head knew. After all, who listens to the people who drone on all the time? It’s the ones who speak when there’s something important to say that we listen to. Or at least we should.

  She caught Jude’s eye. His gaze was wary, fearful of having overstepped the mark. She smiled and it softened as a look of understanding passed between them.

  Time to face it head on then, thought Fran, making her way indoors.

  Her mother looked up as she entered the dining room. ‘Fran, dear, are you all right?’

  ‘I’m absolutely fine, thanks, Mum. But I would like to apologize to you all because Jude is right.’

  ‘Mum, I—’ began Jude. She rested a hand on his shoulder.

  ‘It’s okay. You’re right.’ He nodded. ‘I just miss him, you know?’ She saw tears mist Jude’s eyes and pulled him into a tight embrace. Fran felt her mother’s hand rest on one arm and her father’s on the other.

  We’re okay. We’ve got each other and that’s good enough. We’re okay.

  Fran took a deep breath and a step back. She looked into Jude’s eyes and wiped away his tears. ‘Thank you for telling me the truth,’ she said.

  ‘Sorry,’ he whispered.

  ‘You shouldn’t be. You were right to say it. I needed to hear it.’ She planted a kiss on top of his head.

  ‘What’s the matter with Jude?’ asked Charlie, appearing in the doorway, her face creased with worry.

  ‘He’s just missing Dad.’

  Charlie rested a hand on her brother’s arm. ‘I miss him too, Jude. It’s completely normal.’ Fran exchanged amused glances with her parents. ‘Why don’t we watch a movie?’ she suggested. ‘We could have popcorn.’

  ‘And Maltesers?’ asked Jude.

  Charlie put her arm around his shoulder. ‘Of course,’ she said earnestly.

  Fran reached for her children and pulled them close. ‘I love you morons,’ she said, breathing them in.

  ‘Love you too, Mummy.’ Charlie grinned. Jude smiled and nodded.

  ‘Would you guys be okay if I popped out for a bit?’ asked Fran. ‘There’s something I need to do.’

  ‘Of course, darling,’ said Angela.

  ‘Thanks.’ Fran fetched her handbag and coat. Moments later, she found herself sitting in the car contemplating her next move. She glanced back at the house. Charlie and Jude were waving at the window, pulling silly faces and giving her the thumbs-up. Fran stuck out her tongue before pulling out her phone and dialling a number. He answered after two rings.

  ‘Fran. This is a nice surprise. Are you okay? Is there an overgrown bramble emergency?’ Gary’s voice was like two strong arms reaching out to her.

  Fran laughed. ‘I’m fine. No emergency. I was just wondering if you were busy this afternoon?’

  ‘I’m supposed to be catching up on paperwork so I would welcome any distraction. What do you need?’

  What do I need? Come on. The man’s asking you a question. Try to answer it truthfully.

  She took a deep breath. ‘Okay, well I know this is going to sound weird and possibly not the most enticing offer but I need a hefty man to come to Ikea with me, please.’

  Gary laughed. ‘Wow. This is the ultimate test of friendship. Croydon Ikea on a Saturday afternoon.’

  Friendship. Fran smiled. That sounded good for now. ‘I know. But please be assured that you were my first choice and it is important.’

  ‘I’m honoured.’

  ‘You should be. I’ll shout you coffee and cake as a thank you.’

  ‘Please, Fran, that’s too much,’ he joked.

  ‘Thank you. Seriously. It may be a trip to Ikea but actually, this is quite a momentous event for me.’

  ‘Sounds intriguing – you can tell me everything when you get here. And I did say to call whenever you needed me. I’m glad you did.’

  So am I, thought Fran
, starting the engine. She smiled as she felt the sun on her face like a warm kiss from the future, promising something hopeful and new. All she had to do was reach for it and see what happened.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Pamela

  My Happiness List

  1. Just bake

  2. Dinner with Matthew and Barry – be in the moment! (DISASTER)

  3. Go dancing with Barry? (Not likely)

  4. Laugh like we used to! (with Heather instead)

  5. Try something new – lovely trip to art gallery with Fran & Charlie (and Gary!)

  6. Teach other people how to bake

  7. Let Matty go and be kinder to Barry

  8. Appreciate what I have & how lucky I am…

  ‘Are you sure you want to come along tonight, lovey?’

  Heather looked up at Pamela. ‘I’m absolutely sure. And I’ve also decided to go home later. Luke should have cleared his stuff by now.’

  ‘You don’t have to rush, Heather. You know you can stay here as long as you like, can’t she, Barry?’

  Barry glanced up from the current edition of Gardeners’ World. ‘Absolutely. You’re very welcome, Heather.’

  Pamela beamed at him. She was enjoying being around this new version of her husband – he was trying to be more attentive and she appreciated it. Only last week he had surprised her with tickets to see one of her favourite Strictly dancers later in the year.

  ‘I got an email from one of those ticketing places and thought you’d like to go.’

  ‘Aww, Barry – it’s not my birthday.’

  ‘Does it need to be?’ he’d said, kissing her on the cheek.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Heather. ‘You’re both very kind but I’m ready to go home. Really.’

  ‘Well all right, but only if you’re sure. Now, I’ll just get that cottage pie in the oven and start on some veg.’

  Heather sighed. ‘I am going to miss your home cooking though.’

  ‘Don’t tell her that – she’ll start bringing you care packages,’ teased Barry.

  ‘Cheeky!’ scolded Pamela. ‘You can come round for your tea whenever you like – think of it as a home from home.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Heather smiled, looking genuinely touched.

  The iPad on the side began to buzz. ‘Ooh, that’ll be Matty – he emailed to say he’d FaceTime us today – he’s got news!’ cried Pamela, opening up the screen and swiping it into life. ‘Hello, Matthew!’ she shouted. ‘Can you see us? Say hello Barry!’

  ‘Hello, son,’ said Barry, waving at the screen.

  ‘Hi, Dad,’ replied Matthew. ‘I can see you.’

  ‘You’re as brown as a nut!’ clucked Pamela. She was suddenly struck at how assured Matthew seemed – no more little boy lost. He looked confident and happy. It made her heart soar. ‘Heather, look how brown he is!’

  ‘Very brown,’ agreed Heather.

  ‘Hi, everyone.’ Matthew grinned. ‘How are you all?’

  ‘Very good!’ shouted Pamela, who hadn’t quite got the hang of FaceTime. There was a slight time delay so she asked, ‘Can you hear us?’

  Matthew smiled. ‘Yes I can, Mum. Listen, I’ve got some news. You know I told you I was writing a script?’

  ‘Oh yes?’ said Pamela, leaning forwards.

  ‘Well, the studio here wants to make it into a TV series!’

  Pamela and Barry stared at one another is disbelief. ‘Wow!’ exclaimed Heather. ‘That’s amazing – congratulations!’

  ‘Thanks.’ Matthew smiled. ‘So, Mum, Dad, what do you think? I didn’t want to tell you before I knew it was happening for sure but it means I can pay you back, Mum – every last penny.’

  ‘Oh, Matty, I’m so proud of you!’

  Barry nodded. ‘Well done, son, that’s incredible news.’

  ‘Thank you. Both of you. I know I’ve let you down in the past but that’s all going to change – I mean it. I’ve got to go but we’ll speak soon, okay?’

  ‘Okay, Matty – love you and well done!’ cried Pamela as he disappeared from the screen. ‘Goodness!’ she said to Barry. ‘How about that? Our son, the Hollywood screenwriter!’

  ‘Amazing,’ agreed Barry, shaking his head. ‘Truly amazing.’

  ‘Credit where it’s due, Barry Trott – you encouraged him to follow his dreams and look what’s happened!’

  Barry grinned up at her. ‘And you cut the apron strings and let him go so let’s share the credit, shall we?’

  Pamela nodded happily. ‘I think this calls for a celebration,’ she said, walking to the fridge and taking out a bottle. ‘Prosecco anyone?’

  It wasn’t only the Prosecco that was making Pamela feel giddy as she walked along Hope Street with Heather later that evening. It was as if she’d worked out who she was and how she wanted to be. She was Pamela the mother – devoted to her children and proud of everything they’d achieved, with Matthew’s latest news the cherry on a very special cake. She was Pamela the wife – reconnected with her beloved Barry and remembering all the reasons she’d fallen in love with him in the first place. And she was Pamela the woman – playing an important role in her community and loving every second. Maybe most women knew who they were before they reached the ripe old age of sixty-five but Pamela didn’t care. Better late than never.

  ‘Hello, my friends,’ said Fran, as they met in the hall. ‘I must say you look remarkably chipper for a woman whose world has imploded,’ she added, turning to Heather.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Heather with a wry smile. ‘I’ve done my fair share of weeping and wailing but I’ve got some good friends supporting me,’ she added with meaning.

  ‘You must give me their numbers some time,’ joked Fran. ‘So have you heard from the shitty bastard?’

  Heather laughed. ‘He’s left about a zillion messages but I’m ignoring them.’

  ‘Good girl,’ said Fran. ‘And what about your slutty cousin?’

  ‘Same. And Pamela’s been feeding me restorative tea and cake like it’s going out of fashion so it’s all good.’

  ‘Well, I have conducted extensive scientific research over the years and can confirm that the key tools for surviving the shit storms of life are tea, cake, chocolate and gin. You’re welcome.’

  ‘We need to add, “find friend with an extra-dry sense of humour”, to that list too,’ laughed Heather, nudging Fran. ‘Anyway, how did the birthday meal go at the weekend?’

  ‘Really, really badly.’ Fran grimaced.

  ‘Oh no!’ cried Pamela.

  ‘But then it ended up being really, really good,’ she admitted.

  ‘Sounds promising,’ said Heather. Fran tapped the side of her nose as Nik stood up to welcome them.

  ‘Good evening, my dear friends. I am very glad to see you all but I am also sad to say that this is our penultimate session.’ Everyone ahhhed. Nik nodded. ‘I know, but I have the feeling that what we have started here will continue long after these sessions have ended.’ There were smiles around the room. ‘So, this week we are considering contentment because I hope we have all come to realize that happiness is not a constant state. Life is too full of highs and lows for this to be realistic. What we are actually aiming for is contentment which, put simply, is the art of being at ease with one’s situation, body or mind. It will not surprise you to hear that I have an exercise to teach us how to be truly comfortable with who we are. We are going to undertake a character questionnaire, which will help to identify your strengths.’ He handed out two stapled A4 sheets.

  ‘Yay, I love a quiz,’ joked Fran.

  Nik smiled. ‘You will need to spend ten to fifteen minutes filling it out and then give it to your partner, who will mark it for you.’

  Pamela felt a wave of panic as she saw the questions. She’d always hated tests but as she started to fill it in, she relaxed and realized that she was enjoying being honest about what she really felt. She swapped her paper with Heather and followed Nik’s instructions for marking and grading their characteristics.
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  ‘Okay,’ said Nik when they had finished. ‘How did we get on?’

  ‘Apparently I’m very humble,’ offered Jim.

  ‘Aww,’ said Pamela. ‘I think that’s true.’

  ‘I am honest,’ reported Georg.

  ‘Least surprising outcome ever,’ teased Heather. Georg laughed.

  ‘Good,’ said Nik. ‘So now we need to review our strengths and in order to do this we will focus on the top five characteristics – these are your key strengths. Let’s break into our groups to discuss them and then I would like you to pick one to focus on over the next week – maybe ask your happiness buddies to help you decide? Think about how you use this strength already and then note down new ways that you could use it more.’

  ‘Okay, girls, so what have we got?’ asked Fran, turning to Heather and Pamela. ‘Well, that’s a good start, we all share “love” as a characteristic.’ She held out her arms. ‘Come on, you two – group hug.’ They laughed as Fran pulled them into a tight squeeze.

  ‘No surprise that humour’s in your top five, Fran,’ said Heather.

  ‘And kindness is top of Pamela’s list,’ said Fran with a satisfied smile.

  ‘I think you should focus on your creativity, ducks,’ said Pamela to Heather. ‘It says here that you need to think of new ways of doing things.’

  ‘Sounds about right – it feels as if my whole life needs an overhaul,’ sighed Heather.

  Pamela put an arm around her shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, lovey, we’ll help you.’ Heather nodded gratefully.

  ‘What about you, Pamela?’ asked Fran.

  Pamela scanned her list again before a smile lit up her face. ‘I’m going to focus on love and organize a surprise party for our wedding anniversary – it’s our fortieth this year!’

  Heather grinned. ‘I love a party! What about you, Fran?’

  Fran took a deep breath. ‘I could focus on the humour and try stand-up comedy.’ Heather laughed. ‘But I should probably try to be braver.’

  ‘Oh, Fran, you’re the bravest person I know!’ cried Pamela.

  ‘Well, you’re lovely but actually, I’m not – I merely pretend to be.’ She gave them both reassuring smiles. ‘It’s okay, you don’t have to pretend either – I know it’s true.’