Margot let out a breath and watched as it curled in the air. ‘I think so. I hope so. When you’re in a positive mindset, then it opens you up to possibility.’
Tracy scuffed the ground with the toe of her boot. She seemed quieter than usual. ‘Shall we sit on that wall?’ she said, gesturing at the low wall near the public toilets.
‘Lead the way,’ Margot said, though as usual it was Blossom who led the way.
It was good to sit down, Margot had been on her feet all day, and she said as much to Tracy, who frowned.
‘Is there something the matter?’ Margot felt the first flutter of foreboding in her stomach. But Tracy had been enthusiastically chugging away at the bottle of Prosecco, so she couldn’t be pregnant, and Margot didn’t need to flutter. She’d be happy if Tracy was having a baby, more than happy, even though every time one of her friends got engaged or married or had a baby or left London, it was as if they were moving away from Margot either emotionally or geographically. Sometimes both.
‘I have a feeling that this year coming is going to be a big year,’ Tracy said, almost as if she’d heard Margot’s silent despair.
‘Planning to win the lotto, are you?’ Margot teased with a lightness that she’d have to fake for a few minutes until she managed to reset herself back into a more positive frame of mind.
‘I wish.’ Tracy sighed. The flutters started again and upgraded to a full-on tremor when Tracy took the glass out of Margot’s hand so she could curl her fingers around Margot’s. ‘I have to tell you something.’
‘Do you? Really? Can’t it wait?’ Margot asked a little desperately, because that something always tested her. While she was hugging and congratulating her friends for their good news, it was hard to quiet that nagging, resentful voice in her head, demanding to know when was it her turn?
‘It’s not a bad thing,’ Tracy insisted, but she wasn’t looking very happy about it, whatever it was. ‘But it’s a change. A big change.’
‘Change is good.’ Margot knew then that it wasn’t a good change. It wasn’t a promotion or a house renovation; it was a change that would cause huge upheaval and make everything different.
‘Me and Den, this isn’t a decision that we’ve made lightly,’ Tracy said, squeezing Margot’s hand so that Margot wondered if it was something really, really awful, like the two of them were getting divorced. But no, Tracy would have said something before. ‘We’re moving.’
Margot bit down on her tongue to ward off a giggle that threatened to spill out of her. ‘Is that all?’ It would change things, but not in a really fundamental way. ‘Please say that you’re staying in London.’
Tracy shook her head.
‘Kent coast, then? Margate? Or Hastings?’ When Margot’s friends left London those were the two most popular destinations. ‘Though personally, I wouldn’t move to Hastings. If you’re going to live by the sea, then you might as well live somewhere that has a sandy beach.’
‘It’s not Margate or Hastings.’ Tracy took a huge gulp of Prosecco. ‘I’m moving home.’
It was Margot’s turn to frown. ‘But London is home. You’ve lived here for decades.’
Another almighty swig. ‘Home home. Back to New Zealand.’
Margot heard a roaring in her head that turned out to be a group of revellers staggering through the Square on their way to the Flask.
‘Happy New Year!’ they shouted. Margot raised a hand in acknowledgment before swivelling back to Tracy, who looked as if she was waiting for the Grim Reaper. Like, he might give her an easier time.
‘But why would you move to New Zealand?’ Margot tried to keep the base note of betrayal out of her voice.
A ghost of a smile flickered across Tracy’s face. ‘Because I come from New Zealand, remember?’
‘But you said that you couldn’t wait to leave. That it was full of sheep and not much else. That no famous fashion designers had ever come from New Zealand and when you first came to London and saw that everyone on the Tube was reading a book, you cried happy tears,’ Margot protested. Her other superpower was never forgetting anything anyone said if she could later rely on in it court, and use it as evidence against them.
Tracy wilted in the face of Margot’s perfect recall. ‘That was nearly twenty years ago and a lot has changed. New Zealand has changed. Jacinda is Prime Minister, they have a really strong fashion scene and I’ve been headhunted to take up the position of Dean of Fashion Studies at a university in Wellington. Also, my parents are getting older and I wish I were closer to them especially if . . . if . . . well, that’s the other thing Den and I have been discussing. About starting a family and how we don’t want to, can’t afford to, bring up kids in London.’
‘You couldn’t compromise on Margate instead of going to the furthest possible point away from London?’ Margot asked; she tried to sound light and teasing but it was hard when her heart was hurting.
‘I’m sorry, Margs, but this . . . it just feels like the right time.’ Tracy looked down at Margot’s empty glass, then offered her the bottle of Prosecco. ‘Do you want some?’
‘God, yes!’ Now Margot couldn’t give a toss about mixing spirits and wine. She took the bottle and downed three long gulps.
Everyone but Margot was getting on with their lives. Hitting those big milestones that you hit when you found someone who wanted to share the rest of their life with you. Whereas Margot was stuck for the simple reason that there was no one who wanted to share the rest of his life with her.
They sat there in silence. All Margot’s thoughts were variations on ‘why is it never me?’ until she realised that me didn’t come into this. This wasn’t about Margot. It was about Tracy.
‘I am happy for you,’ Margot said, even if she still didn’t sound happy. ‘These are really big life changes. Kids, emigrating – though is it emigrating if you’re migrating back to where you were raised? But anyway, they’re exciting changes too. This coming year is going to be your best year ever.’
‘You’re a good woman, Margs,’ Tracy said quietly, taking back the Prosecco so she could have her turn. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about,’ Margot said firmly. ‘I don’t need to be factored into your big life decisions and you shouldn’t have to apologise for them either.’
Tracy loped an arm around Margot’s shoulder so she could land a sloppy kiss on her cheek, which Blossom took great offence to. She rose up so she could put her front legs on Margot’s knees and headbutted Margot’s free arm until she got the strokes that she wanted.
‘That dog is never going to let you have another boyfriend,’ Tracy noted.
‘Not really an issue at the moment,’ Margot sighed. ‘I don’t think there’s a man in this world who could love me as unconditionally as Blossom does.’
There’d been absolutely no spark with any of the men Margot had been introduced to at the many Christmas parties she’d attended. And there’d been zero sparkage with the last guy she’d been on an actual date with a fortnight ago. When Margot had sent him a polite message to say that although they hadn’t really clicked, she wished him luck in finding his one true love, he hadn’t taken it very well. I didn’t even want to fuck you, you fat bitch. You’re too old for me anyway. Tick tock tick tock. Even though he wasn’t worth it, Margot had spent the rest of the evening crying.