‘So did I,’ said Jo. ‘I was gutted when she didn’t come because it was always the plan to have all three of you as my bridesmaids, ever since school.’
‘She was down in Devon when you got married, Jo,’ I said. ‘I remember phoning her there to try and plan a hen weekend and she was quite off with me. Not in a rude way, more as though she just wasn’t interested.’
‘I called her too. She promised she’d come. Never did though, did she?’ said Jo.
We were all quiet for a few moments as we thought back to that time.
‘Where are you actually up to so far with the search?’ asked Ally.
‘Lauren, our researcher, is going the DNA route and looking into family connections to see if that provides a lead as well as contacting companies who claim to help you find missing people.’
‘How do they work?’ asked Jo.
‘So much is on line now, I guess they start there – looking into companies who help people trace their ancestry as well as those who test DNA. A lot of people do it out of interest to find out about their roots and they make up family trees that they share on line. They may come up with something or someone.’
‘Sounds more sensible than asking psychics,’ said Ally. ‘And I’ve got my sister in Manchester still doing a bit of scouring around behind the scenes.’
It felt good to have friends to share my space and, although I hadn’t mentioned it yet, I wondered if Ally and Jo would be up for living together on a more permanent basis. It made sense. We were all older, all single, didn’t want to be alone as we sailed into the golden season of our lives. Could we work out a way? Buy a big house? I decided to see how we got on and then I would put the idea to them.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sara
Present day, February
‘Has anyone seen the bread knife?’ I asked as I got out a loaf from the bread bin.
Ally pointed at the drawers next to the fridge. ‘Second one down.’
‘Why’s it in there? It goes in the knife block,’ I said as I pointed to the set of knives neatly stacked.
‘Easier in the drawer,’ said Ally. ‘I’ve rearranged a few of your kitchen items, for ease.’
‘I noticed,’ I said. ‘No need.’
‘You’ll find it works,’ said Ally.
‘I had a system that worked,’ I said, then immediately regretted my tone. I wanted to make Ally feel welcome. She was still grieving and would be for a long time to come, but I wished to God she’d stop rearranging things and cleaning.
As the days had gone on, the initial exuberance of us all being under one roof had begun to fade. It was clear that we had very different ways of living. Ally was a control freak who liked tidy surfaces, not a cup or cushion out of place, whereas Jo couldn’t care less and left mugs half full of coffee in the bedroom and bathroom, her shoes wherever she kicked them off, books and scarves on the table or chair. She left the milk out, the bread board covered in crumbs, a knife stuck in the butter.
I’d thought we’d be one big happy family, like the old days, but it was clear that – over the years – we had found our own routines, routines that clashed. When at school, we’d never actually lived together.
Ally was up at seven every morning and liked to chat. I was not a morning person and was quiet until I’d had at least two strong coffees. Jo slept late and, like me, didn’t come around until mid-morning.
Jo liked the TV up loud and music on all the time; it was driving Ally and me mad hearing ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ over and over again.
Ally liked the subtitles on TV and to watch political programmes that sent me to sleep. If we found a movie we liked, Jo talked through it, and she had a bad case of twitching leg that made it hard to focus, though she was completely unaware of it.
Jo liked to eat early whereas Ally liked to eat late (about nine).
When Ally cooked, the kitchen was meticulously clean afterwards, everything put away, in its new place. When Jo cooked, it looked as if a bomb had hit the room; she used every pan and utensil, which she then left out with a promise to clean up the next day. ‘It’s part of my new chilled persona,’ she said if Ally started to clear up after her, ‘leave it, it can be done in the morning.’ I could see Ally begin to twitch then, unable to relax if everything wasn’t immaculate.
After only a week, the saying ‘guests are like fish, they go off after a few days’ came to mind, and I found myself longing for some peace and quiet and to be able to find things where I had left them. The living-together idea was losing its appeal. How Mitch had done it, living in a commune all those years ago, I had no idea. In the meantime, neither Ally or Jo suspected I was finding it difficult having them, though I had a feeling that Jo shared my feelings and would have been glad to get back to her home and space as soon as she could. However, I could tell that Ally was loving having our company and someone to talk to, so I did my utmost to put on a cheerful face and keep chatting to her.
Ally
Present day
Get me out of here, I thought as I brushed my teeth. Who’d have thought it? My two best friends and they’re both driving me mad. I love both of them, I do, always will, but that doesn’t mean that we’re good housemates. We’re not. Living with Jo is like living with a chaotic teenager who never learnt to pick
