‘You’re very welcome to take them to ballet,’ said Carmel, who was not a ballet mum and could never manage those sleek ballet buns to the satisfaction of her daughters or their teacher, Miss Amber.
‘Really?’ Sonia clasped her hands as if she’d been given the most precious gift, and the joyous gratitude in her eyes made Carmel want to cry with gratitude too. The girls weren’t going to have to be confused by the arrival of a half-sibling and Carmel was going to get out of all things ballet. Miss Amber would love Sonia. Sonia would volunteer to help out doing hair and make-up at the concerts. Carmel was permanently off the hook.
Later today Carmel would tell Lulu to never ever correct anyone who said how much she looked like her mummy when she was out with Sonia.
‘I’ll research the best calendar-sharing apps.’ Sonia took out her phone from her handbag and tapped herself a note.
Carmel experienced another burst of euphoria.
She might have lost a husband, but she’d got herself a wife. An efficient, energetic young wife. What a bargain. What an upgrade.
She’d be there for poor Sonia when, in ten years or so, Joel decided he was due for his next upgrade.
‘Can we talk about ballet another time?’ said Joel. ‘Because right now, I really need to get home for a shower.’ He made a movement towards his car.
‘We need to say goodbye to the girls!’ said Sonia.
‘Of course,’ sighed Joel. It seemed like it had been a long holiday.
‘Was it paleo?’ Sonia whispered to Carmel, as they headed inside the house. ‘Five: two? Eighteen: six?’
‘Health resort,’ said Carmel. ‘Very trippy place. It changed my life.’
Three weeks later
‘You’re panting,’ said Jo to Frances.
‘I’ve been doing push-ups,’ said Frances, facedown on her living room floor, the phone to her ear. ‘Push-ups work every muscle in your body.’
‘You have not been doing push-ups,’ scoffed Jo. ‘Oh my God, I haven’t interrupted you in flagrante delicto?’
Only Frances’s former editor could both pronounce and spell ‘in flagrante delicto’.
‘I guess I should be flattered that you think I’m more likely to be having sex at eleven in the morning than doing push-ups.’ Frances sat up into a cross-legged position.
She’d lost three kilos at Tranquillum House and put them straight back on once she was home, but she was trying to incorporate a little more exercise, a little less chocolate, a little more mindful breathing and a little less wine into her lifestyle. She was feeling pretty good. The whites of her eyes were most definitely whiter, according to her friend Ellen, who had been shocked to hear about Frances’s experiences.
‘When I said their approach was unconventional, I meant the personalised meals!’ she cried. ‘I didn’t mean LSD!’ She thought about it, and then said wistfully, ‘I would have loved to try LSD.’
‘How’s retirement?’ Frances asked Jo.
‘I’m going back to work,’ said Jo. ‘Work is easier. Everyone thinks I have nothing to do all day. My siblings think I should take full responsibility for our elderly parents. My children think I should take care of their children. I love my grandchildren, but day care was invented for a reason.’
‘I knew you were too young to retire,’ said Frances as she tried to touch her nose to her knee. Stretching was so important.
‘I’m starting my own imprint,’ said Jo.
‘Are you?’ said Frances. She sat up straight. A tiny burst of hope. ‘Congratulations.’
‘Naturally I’ve read the new novel, and naturally I love it,’ said Jo. ‘Before I think about making an offer, I just wondered how you’d feel about incorporating a little bloodshed? Potentially even a murder. Just the one.’
‘Murder!’ said Frances. ‘I don’t know if I’ve got it in me.’
‘Oh, Frances,’ said Jo. ‘You’ve got plenty of murderous impulses lurking away in that romantic old heart of yours.’
‘Have I?’ said Frances. She narrowed her eyes. Maybe she did.
Four weeks later