As the days grew longer and warmer, Norah felt a sense of relief. She could finally take Freddie out to play in the park without having to bundle him up in multiple layers. She’d taken to meeting Poppy there with Luna on a Sunday afternoon, and it was a regular thing now.
Little did Norah know that the end of winter hadn’t seen off the dark days. There was so much worse to come.
But sitting next to Poppy, watching the kids trying to double mount the rope swing, she thought things were getting better. Good, even. She and Max were rowing much less. If that was because he was out all the time, then so be it. Peace was peace. They’d decided to stop the counselling. They agreed that they’d gotten all they could out of it.
And things were growing ever more comfortable with Poppy. She was becoming a good friend. It was very nearly like the old days, before... Well, before. Norah was shocked at how grateful she was for that. She hadn’t noticed it, but a lot of her friendships had fallen off when Freddie came along. She was just so busy and tired that there wasn’t time for things like hanging out with someone who understood her. Having it in her life again was pretty wonderful.
Poppy was now her best friend. The girl who broke Norah’s heart was gone. One night of passion and a few dozen days of tears couldn’t count for much in the thousands of days spent on this silly blue marble. It was a blink. Something to be forgotten.
But Norah hadn’t forgotten, exactly. But she didn’t focus on it. And that meant it was past, didn’t it? Like the time she broke her wrist coming off the swing when she was seven. She hadn’t forgotten how it felt, but it didn’t hurt anymore. It was just a memory of pain, not pain itself. Though, just occasionally, when it was damp, her wrist did ache a touch. But the metaphor tracked, for the most part.
‘Hey, are you going to that PTA thing on Friday?’ Norah asked as they watched the kids flying across the zipline together, screaming with delight.
Poppy looked at her in surprise. ‘No, are you?’
‘Not if you’re not.’
‘Then we’re not.’
‘I wish Susan would stop putting the meeting times in the chat. It makes me feel guilty,’ Norah said wistfully.
‘Don’t talk about guilt,’ Poppy complained. ‘This is supposed to be a slacker mums’ club.’
‘Since when?’ Norah asked.
‘Since we’re both slacker mums.’
‘I’m not a slacker, and neither are you,’ Norah said with an eye-roll.
‘Fine, but I’m too busy to take on shit I don’t have to. Which—by some people’s definition—makes me a slacker,’ Poppy said.
‘OK, OK, my bad,’ Norah said. She paused. ‘Quick question. Would you rather go to a PTA meeting or shit yourself?’
Poppy paused, and Norah wondered if she was being a bit gross. But then Poppy said, ‘PTA. But it’s a close-run thing. You?’
‘I’m fifty-fifty because they have free wine at the PTA. No one gives you free booze if you crap yourself,’ Norah explained.
Poppy's eyes lit up. ‘Free wine? They should lead with that.’
'You considering it? We could be like those cool, effortless mums who are always organising events and fundraising,' Norah said.
‘I’m cool already. I listen to cool, youthful music like... What do kids listen to?’ Poppy asked.
‘Freddie likes Taylor Swift,’ Norah said evenly.
Poppy sighed. ‘She’s banned in my house.’
‘Why’s that?’ Norah asked, interested.
‘Because I hate her,’ Poppy said flatly.
‘Oh, I thought you were gonna say something more parent-y.’
‘When have you known me to do that?’ Poppy asked, aghast.
‘MUUUUUUM!’ Freddie suddenly said from right next to her, shocking her eardrum.
Norah needed to put a bell on that kid.
‘What’s up, Freds?’ Norah asked.
‘I’m thirsty.’
Norah pulled out his water bottle, and he sucked on it like a baby. He was a very thirsty child. He was like a little steam engine that needed water thrown on the coal at regular intervals, or he was apt to crash.
‘Mum, I need water, too!’ Luna said, running over.
‘Funny coincidence,’ Poppy remarked with a smile at her child, who was soon necking her water.
‘Mummy, did you see my message?’ Freddie asked, still gasping from his mega drink.
‘What message?’
‘I sent it from Dad’s phone before we left.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t see it,’ she said, checking her phone to find one of his cryptic emoji streams. ‘It’s lovely,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
He ran off, and Luna ran after him.
