Curiously, another of my old friends from back then, Sara Meyers, called out of the blue recently. She’d lost her job, a big blow to someone like her who lived to work. She certainly hadn’t had much time for me in the last few years, but she sounded different when we spoke on the phone. On the few occasions that we’d been in touch over the last years, she’d always sounded in a rush, distracted, impatient to be off to some place more glamorous, with more interesting people, and when we met up either on our own or with Ally, she was notoriously late. It drove Ally and me mad, especially in our younger days. She could act a bit ‘I’m so fucking fabulous’ when things took off for her in our thirties and forties, like she’d started to believe her own publicity, but Ally and I had known her too long and could usually tease her back to earth when we saw her. One time, when she was flying high in her career and I was still struggling, we’d gone out for lunch with Ally. Sara ordered two bottles of Cristal champagne to celebrate some promotion. When the bill came, Sara suggested we split it as we had always done, but that champagne would have wiped out my budget for the rest of that month. She hadn’t stopped to think that we weren’t all earning the big bucks that she was. Ally took one look at my face and got it straight away, and to be fair Sara cottoned on pretty fast, insisting on picking up the whole bill as her treat. ‘In that case, let’s get another bottle,’ I joked, but I felt bad about not being able to pay my way. Since then life has dealt Sara some knocks – her mum’s illness, losing Charles, her son Elliott going abroad to work, one of her good friends dying and now she’s lost her job. I got the feeling that behind her cheerful act she was rather unhappy, a bit lonely too. I tried to let her know I was here for her, invited her to stay numerous times. She came less and less in recent years, always too involved with her job to venture down to Wiltshire, though part of me suspected that the busy, busy lifestyle was an escape for her from what was really going on. The other day, when we spoke, she was like the old Sara; she listened to what I had to say and seemed genuinely concerned about me. It was nice, reminded me of what close friends we used to be. She had been a good person to have as a mate, despite her occasional thoughtlessness, and her intentions had always been well meaning. She was a sunny, open soul who wore her heart on her sleeve and liked to chat, chat, chat. I liked that because I always knew where I was with her and she laughed at all my jokes, even the rubbish ones. She said she’d been thinking about Mitch too.
‘Any idea where she might be?’ she asked after I’d told her about my floating into a sea of light and wanting to talk to Mitch about it.
‘Not a clue. I’d love to talk to her about my near-death experience.’ Like my family, I could tell that Sara wasn’t convinced that what I’d been through was anything other than due to medication.
‘Yes, I wonder if she’s still into all that “peace and love” stuff.’
‘Me too. I feel bad I dismissed it at the time. She must have been frustrated that none of us were that interested. I certainly know how she feels now.’
‘Oh Jo, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to dismiss what happened to you, just it sounds …’
‘I know, bonkers. You can say it. So, let me think. Mitch was in London for a while, we knew that; then Devon, I seem to remember. It was so long ago, it’s all a bit of a blur. I was too busy trying to survive as a new wife and mother to think about seeing the light and saving the world like she was.’
‘Anyone you can think of who might know where she is?’
‘Not that comes to mind, but there’s bound to be someone back in Manchester you could ask. I saw her when I did the flash review of my life while I was having the heart attack, and she’s been on my mind a lot. Strange that we’re both thinking about her after so long. Do you think we were bad friends? Should have made more of an effort to stay in touch?’
‘That’s what I’ve been asking myself. Maybe, maybe not. Works both ways. She didn’t exactly try to stay in touch with us either, once she knew we weren’t going to join her way of life.’
‘Fair point. Shame though.’
‘And … I’ve been as bad as her at not staying in touch with my real friends, not lately that is.’
‘Well, you’ve had a lot going on. But you’re in touch now, Sara, and that’s what counts.’
‘You and I could meet up if you like.’
‘I’d love to, but I’m not exactly ready for house guests just yet.’
‘I wouldn’t stay long. I have something I’d like to run by you.’
‘Sure. Shoot.’
‘Er … not now. Not on the phone, it’s sort of about Mitch as well.’
‘Intriguing.’
‘I’ll see if Ally’d like to come too. This period post-funeral must be hard for her – so quiet now that everyone will have gone. The house will feel empty. She might like a change of scenery. What do you say?’
‘I say great.’ I’d stayed in touch with Ally more than Sara had in recent years. I had a lot of respect for Ally. She was the thoughtful one of our group, quieter and less inclined to blurt out all her feelings the way the rest of us did
