Marrying Simone

by Anna Jacobs

  No, she couldn’t do it! Definitely not. She opened her mouth to say so but Greg got in first.

  ‘I know what, I’ll ask Michael and his wife to call round to your place tomorrow evening and show you the photos of her parents’ house. I’ve seen them and it looks lovely. They can suss out your house while they’re at it and send photos of it back to her parents. I’ll phone him now, shall I?’

  As she hesitated, Libby nodded energetically at her, with that look on her face. No one could be as stubborn as her friend when she thought something was right, so Simone gave in. ‘It won’t hurt to see what’s involved, I suppose.’

  ‘And we’ll come round tomorrow too. I haven’t seen their photos, only heard about the place,’ Libby said. ‘Ah, there’s the doorbell. Our food must have arrived.’

  They chatted about other things over the meal and Simone enjoyed her friends’ company as always. It was lovely to go somewhere and be sure no stray men would be joining them. If the samples of colourless, ageing manhood who had been trotted out to meet her so far were typical, she’d never want to remarry. However pleasant they’d been, none had attracted her in the slightest during the past couple of years.

  Perhaps rat man had put her off men for good. She smiled. Funny how the nickname Libby had given him had stuck and defused some of her embarrassment. All Simone’s family and friends called him that now.

  She wasn’t looking to remarry. Definitely not.

  Only what was she going to do with her life? She didn’t know, only that she couldn’t go on like this, had to find something more.

  When she went to bed, she looked in the mirror and told herself firmly that she wasn’t going so far away for several months. Definitely not. She’d make a show of considering it then refuse graciously.

  Whatever Libby said or did.

  Chapter Two

  The following morning Simone went home as soon as she woke, not even staying for breakfast because Thursday was a working day for her friends.

  As the day passed, she was even more certain that she wasn’t going to agree to a house swap, even if these people were pleasant and their relatives’ home looked like a beautiful advert. But she didn’t have their phone number and her friends were both at work. Anyway, she didn’t like to cancel at such short notice.

  She felt increasingly nervous as the afternoon passed and was relieved when Libby turned up before the others to support her.

  ‘Greg’s coming with his friends, then he’ll drive me home.’ Libby brandished a bottle of Prosecco. ‘I brought this to celebrate the deal.’

  ‘What deal?’

  Libby stared at Simone. ‘Uh-oh! I know that expression of yours. You’ve already decided to refuse, haven’t you? Before you’ve even met them or seen photos of the house. Well, don’t you dare tell them no until you’ve seen what they have to offer and talked it over with me afterwards.’

  ‘But if I don’t—’

  Libby held up one finger and waggled it at her. ‘No buts! You weren’t such a coward before, Simone. Harvey would be ashamed of you. And you couldn’t get a better time to go. It’ll be spring and summer there. You might not even see a winter this year.’

  She froze. Only Libby would have dared say that to her. The trouble was, her friend was right. Simone was starting to worry herself at how timid she was getting these days about meeting new people or going to new places on her own. And yet she longed to change things – only how to do it? She seemed to be stuck in a rut, with a reasonably pleasant life and it wasn’t enough.

  The doorbell rang just then and she went to open it. Greg introduced his friends, a pregnant woman and a man who kept shooting proud, fond glances at his wife.

  ‘Michael and Harriet, meet Simone, who’s known Libby since primary school, heaven help her.’

  Harriet beamed at her. ‘I’m so glad to meet you, Simone. I do hope you’ll like the look of Mum and Dad’s house. It’s brand new and looks gorgeous. It would mean so much to me to have them here for the last few months and the birth.’

  Simone mumbled something, not wanting to dent their happiness yet.

  Libby gave her a little shove. ‘You and I will show them round this house while Greg opens the bubbly.’

  ‘I have a bottle in the fridge, if we run out.’ She had a feeling she’d be drinking more than one glass.’

  Simone led the way round the house and if she said so herself, it was looking good. Harvey would be proud of the way she’d looked after it.

  Her visitors took dozens of photos with their phones as they went, oohing and aahing at how well it would suit Harriet’s parents, and what a nice feel it had.

  After that Greg took Michael out to see the car, which would be included in the swap – if it took place.

  Simone didn’t go out with them. What did she know about the technicalities of cars? They were tin boxes on wheels as far as she was concerned and what mattered most to her was the comfort of the seats and the effectiveness of the safety features.

  Libby winked at her. She’d obviously guessed already that Simone was going to find it hard to spoil their delight. ‘How about us ladies make a start on the bubbly?’

  ‘Not for me.’ Harriet patted her slightly bulging stomach.

  Simone got out some ginger beer for her visitor then accepted the glass of Prosecco her friend thrust into her hand and took a big gulp. It tasted lovely but it didn’t help her nervousness about refusing.

  The men came back to join them and once they’d all got glasses they toasted the coming child and nibbled a few nuts, while the visitors began to show Simone photos of the house in England on an iPad. They started with an overview of Penny Lake Leisure Village, then panned slowly along Bob and Linda’s street to their brand-new house. Room by room they went through it then asked for Simone’s email address so they could send her a copy of the tour to review later.

  As she, Libby and Michael accepted a second glass of bubbly, she had to admit to herself that it was a lovely house, not at all like the small retirement homes she’d seen in Western Australia. And the nearby countryside looked really pretty too, as did the small lake to one side of the leisure village.

  When Simone had finished looking through the photos, Libby took charge. ‘Simone will get back to you within twenty-four hours. It’s a big decision to make … in her circumstances.’

  Their faces fell and Simone felt guilty as she saw tears of disappointment tremble in Harriet’s eyes. The two of them left soon afterwards.

  Once they’d gone, Greg exchanged glances with his wife and went out to their car, saying, ‘I’ll listen to the car radio while I wait for you girls to have a little chat.’

  Libby held up one hand to stop Simone speaking. ‘All I ask is that you think about it. Right? I’ll come round tomorrow after work and we’ll have a chat before you contact them.’

  ‘But I already know that I don’t want to—’

  ‘Shh. Do not decide now, think about it really carefully. You’re surely not going to waste a golden opportunity because of being nervous? They don’t have fire-breathing dragons roaming wild in Wiltshire, you know. It’s a beautiful rural county with some lovely places to visit – including Stonehenge. And remember, you have family in that part of England as well. Ask your parents what it’s like.’

  She shrugged. Her parents were off touring in their caravan and would be mostly out of touch for a few weeks, roughing it. She knew they’d visited some of their British relatives but they hadn’t said much about them. Anyway, she wasn’t going to England, so she wouldn’t need to contact her parents about that, would she?

  Libby gave her a hug. ‘See you after work tomorrow. And don’t you dare break your promise to me.’

  As her friends drove off Simone said aloud, ‘You should have stuck to your guns, you fool, and said no straight away.’

  She was going to be very firm with Libby tomorrow. Definitely. She’d rehearse what to say until she was word perfect and stick to it. She could manage that, sure
ly? Libby was her best friend, after all. She’d understand.

  But it wouldn’t hurt to look at the leisure village and the house again. It’d be something to do. This house could feel so empty after guests had left.

  The following day Simone couldn’t settle to anything. Libby was right about one thing. It would be foolish to dismiss the idea of a house exchange out of hand.

  She made a cup of coffee and sat stirring it, trying to look at the situation objectively. It was certainly a cheaper way to take an overseas holiday. Could she do it, though? Swap houses and go to stay in England for a few months? It seemed a strange idea to live in someone else’s home among all their possessions – not to mention letting them into your home in return. She’d never considered doing anything remotely like that before.

  Well, she had nothing to be ashamed of. She looked after her home and anyway, she could put away her most precious objects.

  She’d been too young when her family left England to remember that country clearly and had only seen it since in photos or on television, not noticing a lot because she wasn’t really interested. Picking up the cup, she took it across to her computer and sipped as she searched for images of Wiltshire.

  Wow! It did look to be a beautiful county. She studied the green, lush fields of ripe crops, the picturesque houses and villages, and wondered why she’d never gone on holiday to England. Her parents had done it a couple of times, combining it with a round-the-world trip each time. They’d been full of themselves when they got back and had urged her and Harvey to do it too.

  But they hadn’t said much about the relatives there.

  She knew why she hadn’t gone: because Harvey hated flying. And because it hadn’t mattered much to her. After all, her parents and daughters were here in Australia. Harvey didn’t have any close relatives left, but he was very close to their girls and to her parents.

  If she went, she’d be so far away, on the other side of the world. How could she bear not to see her family for months? Especially the grandchildren, who were shooting up fast.

  And look how lonely she got even here sometimes. Evenings were the worst part of the day when you lived alone. They’d be far worse in a place where she didn’t know anyone at all, she was sure.

  She shivered suddenly as she thought of the practicalities of what an exchange would involve: not only learning to use equipment and manage a stranger’s house, but driving around in a strange country. No, she couldn’t do that on her own.

  But how did she say a convincing no to Libby when her friend was right about one thing: it was the sort of offer most people would have grabbed with both hands?

  She went into the kitchen to get herself another cup of coffee before watching the early evening news, something she always did. Then she remembered there had been some Prosecco left last night. Libby had capped the second bottle and put it in the fridge. Oh, what the hell? It was a bit early to start drinking but if she’d ever deserved a comforting glass of wine it was now.

  She poured some, pleased that it was still fizzy. She checked the label. She’d remember it because this one was particularly nice, not too dry and acidic.

  As she reached for the remote to switch on the television, the doorbell rang and her daughters came in without waiting to be asked. They knew she kept the front door locked so always came with keys at the ready. She wished they’d not barge in like that, but hadn’t liked to make a point of it. They wouldn’t have done it when their father was alive, though.

  ‘We’ve been doing the week’s grocery shopping and thought we’d stop off on the way back and have a cup of coffee with you, Ma. The guys can look after the kids for a bit longer today.’ Clo walked across the kitchen and put the kettle on.

  Deb kissed the air near Simone’s left ear. ‘I was a bit worried when you weren’t available to babysit the other night. Are you all right, Ma?’

  ‘Of course I am. I went round to Libby’s on Wednesday and stayed over, that’s all. We had a great time.’

  ‘Well! You really should check your phone more often. I’d been trying to get in touch with you. You could easily have gone to Libby’s another night and babysat for us instead. We missed out on a very special evening.’

  That assumption annoyed her. ‘I’d been looking forward to going out that night. It wouldn’t have suited me to have missed out. Why do you always think my wishes are less important than yours?’

  They both gaped at that.

  ‘As for checking my phone, Libby and I always switch them off when we want a good old natter. Anyway, it’s rude to answer a call from someone else when you’re visiting people so I wouldn’t have checked for messages anyway. We’re not all glued to our phones twenty-four seven, you know.’

  Clo gave her a scornful glance as if she thought her mother was being stupid. ‘Talking of Libby, she rang me at work at lunchtime and asked me to help her persuade you to accept an invitation to stay in the UK,’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You weren’t really considering it, were you, Ma?’

  ‘Well, I—’

  ‘Because you aren’t the travelling type and you’re so naïve about the world outside Australia. I hate to think how people would take advantage of you.’

  They both stared at her, waiting for the expected agreement with that and frowning at one another when she didn’t say anything. She picked up her glass and took a defiant gulp.

  ‘You don’t usually sit drinking on your own at this time of day, either,’ Clo added disapprovingly, ‘so you must be upset. Libby should know you better than to try to push you into it, shouldn’t even have suggested you do something like that.’

  Simone opened her mouth to explain but just then Deb’s phone warbled its annoyingly loud jangle and of course she immediately took it out of her bag to answer it. She was as programmed as one of Pavlov’s dogs.

  Quod erat demonstrandum, she thought angrily. One of Harvey’s favourite Latin quotes and Deb had just demonstrated the truth of that programming. Her younger daughter had picked up the call automatically, not even thinking about how rude that might be, and then walked out into the hall to answer it. Clo would have done exactly the same.

  They did it all the time, interrupting conversations with their mother to chat to distant friends.

  Why had she put up with it for so long?

  She took another mouthful of wine and got more disapproving glances from both of them as Deb came back into the kitchen. She’d thought they’d got over their latest health kick about not drinking alcohol at all during the week. Apparently not.

  ‘Don’t let Libby push you into anything, Ma,’ Clo said soothingly. You know it wouldn’t suit you and you have trouble saying no to her. That’s probably why you’re drinking so early.’

  ‘I’m drinking because I enjoy an occasional glass of wine in the evening. I am not the one who gave up drinking during the week. That’s your choice. I don’t drink enough to need rules, thank you very much.’

  They rolled their eyes at one another, then Deb said in the tone of one clinching an argument, ‘Anyway, I’m sure Dad wouldn’t have wanted you to travel so far on your own.’

  ‘Your father’s been gone for four years now and much as I miss him, I’m well past running my life by what he would have wanted. Besides, I’m more than due a holiday, don’t you think? You all go somewhere each year. Why shouldn’t I?’

  ‘We’ll take you to Bali next year and have a nice family holiday together. We were only talking about it the other day.’

  And they’d expect her to babysit the kids every evening while they were there, Simone thought bitterly. Like that family weekend in Busselton they’d all had last year. She’d been left to sit around quietly in a hotel room in the evenings with a book to read, keeping an eye on the children. She’d been gobsmacked that the weekend away she’d looked forward to and bought new clothes for was just more babysitting.

  But she hadn’t complained or refused to do it, had she? She had to learn to assert her
self or she’d turn into a cabbage.

  The words were out before she thought the consequences through. ‘A holiday in England sounds somewhat more exciting than one in Bali, don’t you think?’

  They both gaped at her as if she’d suddenly spoken a foreign language.

  ‘Ma, have you gone mad? You’d hate it, you know you would.’

  That was the final straw. ‘Why would I hate it? Wiltshire is where Nana and Pops come from. We still have relatives there. It’s a lovely part of England.’

  ‘You always said you didn’t remember much about it.’

  ‘I’ve been looking it up online. I need to get out of my rut and this is a really great offer.’ She saw Clo look at her scornfully and start to open her mouth, so said slowly and clearly, ‘I’m definitely going.’

  They immediately started trying to talk her out of it, and the more they said the more they persuaded her to do the opposite.

  So she was useless at finding her way round new places, was she? Wrong. Why did they think that?

  And she liked a quiet life, did she? It hadn’t always been this quiet, though. It was damned near silent half the time these days and she was fed up with it.

  She was a bit old for adventures. She glanced at her image in a mirror. Not exactly elderly at fifty-six. A bit plump, maybe, for this scraggy generation’s taste, but that filled the wrinkles nicely, she and Libby always joked.

  She’d miss the grandchildren more than she realised, surely? Well, of course she would, but not as much as her daughters would miss the free babysitting. Oh, no!

  And finally, she’d be terrified of driving in England.

  That was the final straw. She raised her voice, cutting off Deb’s next remark. ‘Why do you say that? I have an unblemished driving record and I used to drive Harvey all over the place, in other parts of Australia as well as here in Perth. I wasn’t afraid in Sydney’s traffic snarls, but he was. Even rat man said I was a good driver.’

  They rolled their eyes at one another yet again, and Clo used her soothing tone as if speaking to a child. ‘Calm down, Ma. See how it’s upsetting you already.’