Id been shocked when my daughter had broken down yesterday evening, initially thinking it was the exhaustion of her self-imposed revision timetable causing her to go into meltdown. It turns out it was good old-fashioned matters of the heart, and wed both struggled to keep our emotions in check as she poured out her feelings. Id been tempted to go round and give Mr and Mrs Hart a piece of my mind, tell them how Kellys an amazing girl. How her past relationships are none of their bloody business and have no bearing whatsoever on the love she has for Luke. Id only restrained myself because of the enormous stress theyre under right now, although Kelly had looked wary when shed seen me cracking my knuckles as though preparing to go to battle. If it hadnt been for Luke Id have gone round all guns blazing.
Things are different now I know theyre together. It explains a lot about how erratically Kellys been behaving. She hates not being able to go to the hospital to visit, but she told me youd been keeping her in the loop. Shes lucky to have a friend like you, Fern. We all are. Happy birthday, sweetheart.
Fern fans her hands in front of her eyes, her lips pursed tightly together as she struggles to hold back tears.
Im so sorry for my parents, she says. Theyre not bad people, they just dont understand. She examines the necklace once more, draping the disc over her fingers. Can you help me put this on? I struggle when theyve got fiddly clasps. Im such a butterfingers.
I thought youd never ask, I jest, before gladly fixing the necklace around Ferns neck. When she turns to face me, hands outstretched in front of her as though inviting opinion, I nod my approval. It looks lovely.
Whoever bought it must have had exceptionally good taste, Fern teases back, and in that one moment she looks more carefree than she has in the past fortnight. Its lovely to see, and I wish I had a camera to capture a picture of her happiness in what has been a difficult time. Speaking of taste, lets get a knife and make a start on that cake. It looks scrumptious. In fact, almost too good to eat.
I tut with modesty as I retrieve a knife from the drawer, a smart silver blade with an ornate handle thats saved for special occasions. I hand it to Fern.
You do the honours, birthday girl.
Fern giggles. As I give a solitary and somewhat off-key rendition of Happy Birthday, she pushes the knife into the airy sponge. Im not sure if its my bum notes or that shes had her fill of time in the spotlight, but I notice her catch sight of the clock hanging on the far wall amid a multitude of dangling, lilac-coloured heart decorations. We should have opened up already! she exclaims.
No ones banging the door down, so Im sure its fine, I assure her. Stop worrying. Now, let me have a tiny taste of that cake before we open that door
The slice she hands me is enormous, but I dont complain. Just this once, the punters can wait.
Lacey
My hearts pounding in my chest and my mouth is uncomfortably full of saliva. My bedraggled hairs sticking to the sweat on my face and neck too, and thats not to mention the unpleasant sticky sensation under my armpits. Every part of me feels grimy. No wonder everyone I passed on my last lap of the park kept a wide berth. I must look like some kind of wild beast, a freakishly unkempt animal thats escaped from the circus or something. Ick.
I thought Id be finding this running malarkey easier by now. That once Id got past the first few horrific runs itd suddenly fall into place and Id be like a victorious athlete heading into the stadium at the end of a marathon tired from the physical exertion, but with that athletic glow and built-in grit that compels the naturally sporty to push themselves until the bitter end. In reality Im a hot mess of sweaty exhaustion. Whoever made up that crap about women glowing rather than sweating obviously never saw me doing laps around the park when its already scorching hot.