How to Win Back Your Husband. Vivien Hampshire

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СКАЧАТЬ he was doing, it was always for me. For us, and our future. I just didn’t appreciate what I had. Not then.’

      ‘And now you do?’

      ‘Too late. I know. You don’t have to say it. I messed up. Badly.’

      ‘You did that all right! But, do you know, Nic, I bet he could have listed a few things about you he wasn’t happy with too, given a chance. Not that you gave him a chance. Or even half of one. You’re hardly Mrs Perfect yourself. But, oh no, you have to go and do something drastic, don’t you? Not that you’re going to listen to me, and it’s too late now anyway, but people can change, you know, even your Mark, if they face up to what’s wrong. And if they really want to, of course. And that goes for you too. Marriage does take two, after all. You could have dealt with things better – that’s all I’m saying. But, instead, what do you do? Jump into bed with…’

      ‘Okay, okay. You don’t have to remind me. Or say it quite so loudly. I feel bad enough about it already, believe me. And it’s all very well you going all marriage guidance counsellor on me and suddenly having all these smart-arse answers after the event, isn’t it? What good are they to me now?’

      ‘I’d have given them to you before the event if I’d known there was going to be an event, wouldn’t I? Then maybe I could have stopped you making such a stupid mistake in the first place…’

      ‘Water under the bridge now, Jilly. Please, drop it, okay?’

      ‘I suppose so.’ Jilly shrugged. ‘So, what now? It’s obvious the party idea didn’t quite work. That was Plan A, by the way. A for All Girls Together. Overall, a bit of a failure, I would say, and after I’d spent hours making that masterpiece of a cake, too. You clearly hated every minute of it. You’d have been perfectly happy for us to leave so you could have a good old wallow by yourself, and you didn’t even try to hide the fact. I know you too well. And I think you’re in danger of becoming some sort of a hermit if you don’t shake off this sorry for yourself mood. It’s at times like this that a girl needs her friends more than ever. And, as chief friend, that means me, especially.’

      ‘Friend? After that talking-to you’ve just given me?’

      ‘That’s what friends are for, you silly cow. To tell the truth, whether you want to hear it or not. And to look out for each other, no matter what.’

      Nicci poured herself a glass of wine and took a sip. At least while she had a drink pressed to her mouth she didn’t have to say anything. What was there to say that hadn’t already been said, anyway?

      ‘So, if you think that I’m going to sit back and do nothing, you are very much mistaken.’ Jilly topped up her own glass and leant back into the high-backed padded seat. ‘Hiding away at home alone, with your old photo albums and a weepie DVD just will not do. You’re thirty-three, not bloody eighty-three!’

      ‘I do not hide away.’

      ‘Not any more, you don’t. I’m making sure of that. Hence Plan B.’

      ‘Which is?’

      ‘B for Back in the Game, girl! Saving you from yourself. We are going to make a list. Yes, right here, and right now.’ Jilly opened her bag and rummaged about for a notepad and pen, chucking assorted lipsticks, mascara wands and used tissues all over the table. ‘A list of all the things we used to do, in the old days, before Mr Mark Ross came along. Things that were fun. Things we did as single girls, without ever worrying about needing a man to prop us up or hang on our arm. And we did have fun, didn’t we?’

      ‘Of course we did. And we still do, just in a different way. I honestly can’t see myself doing half the things we did back then, ever again. And what about your Richard anyway? He’s suddenly going to be dropped from your social life, is he? While you devote yourself to saving me?’

      ‘Richard’s okay with it. We’ve talked about it. About you. And he understands. To be honest, we both need a break from the IVF right now, so you’ll be doing me a favour too. Getting me out and about, giving me a project to work on that doesn’t involve injections and bloody scans.’

      ‘A project? Is that what I am?’

      ‘Maybe I didn’t put that too well, but you know what I mean. Now, come on. Let’s start on this list. Number one…’

      Nicci sighed. It was just another of Jilly’s silly dead-end schemes. There had been plenty of them over the years. Let’s buy a parrot and teach it how to swear… Let’s learn to water-ski… Let’s make a banner and join the protest march at the town hall… Five-minute wonders, all of them. Once she’d realised how much something cost, or how hard it was going to be, or that getting cold and wet was no fun after all, she’d move on to the next daft idea. And it was obvious why she did it. Obvious to Nicci, and just about everyone, except Jilly herself.

      Poor Jilly had been trying to get pregnant for years but, despite having a husband one hundred per cent behind her and willing to pay what must have added up to a small fortune by now for treatment, it just hadn’t happened. And now here she was, four failed IVF cycles down the line and desperately trying to find something, anything, to fill the gaping great baby-shaped hole in her life.

      It was hard to know what to say. But then, what could she say that would be of any use? Or any comfort? She knew nothing about the reality of trying to get pregnant, or how tricky it could be. Much as she would have loved to have a baby of her own, she and Mark hadn’t quite reached that stage. Or Mark hadn’t, to be more accurate.

      Ever since she’d hit her thirtieth birthday, Nicci had to admit that the distant sound of her biological clock had been getting ever nearer, but Mark had wanted to save up for a couple more years first, and look at taking on a bigger house and a bigger mortgage while they were both still earning. But then, what did Mark know about babies, except what they cost? He’d never known any, and as far as she knew had never even held one, while she spent all day working with them and loved every minute of it. Babies grabbed at your heart and refused to let go. A bit like Mark had, all those years ago, toilet rolls and all!

      Oh, she would have loved to see what sort of a baby they could have made together. A chuckling sturdy little boy, or a dainty little girl with a smile to die for? Would it have had his hazel eyes or her blue, her straight brown hair or his much lighter curls, little dimples on each side of its bottom to echo the ones she’d always loved to look at whenever Mark took off his clothes? She’d never know now, would she? And it wasn’t the kind of thought that would probably ever enter Mark’s head.

      She wondered sometimes if he just saw their future children as ticks in a box, something expected to fit into the exact right slot in that daft plan of his, and not as real people at all. Didn’t he know that life doesn’t always work out that simply, or that precisely? That things can happen along the way to throw everything off course? The divorce had made that all too obvious, that was for sure.

      Still, she couldn’t say she’d ever come up with a real alternative life plan of her own. It wasn’t her style. Get out and enjoy life while it’s here, that had been her motto. Let tomorrow take care of itself. What will be will be. And look where that had got her. Absolutely bloody nowhere.

      ‘Right!’

      Nicci snapped back to the present as Jilly slammed her glass down, put on her I mean business face and chewed determinedly at the end of her pen. ‘Number one. Evening classes. All the agony aunt columns say it’s the best way to meet new people. Like-minded people, that is. Much better than hanging СКАЧАТЬ