‘It’s today,’ she says, nonplussed. ‘I must bring something from Egypt.’
‘From Egypt? You want me to find something from Egypt at the last minute?’
Mackenzie nods and carries on eating her toast.
‘Sweetie, we don’t have anything from Egypt,’ I say after a quick think.
Mackenzie spits out the mouthful of toast and shouts, ‘It is today. I must have it.’ Having made her point, she calmly puts the half-chewed toast back in her mouth.
I rack my brain. Egypt? Pyramids? A sphinx? For the first time in my life I wish I owned one of those touristy papyrus things with Egyptian hieroglyphics. Like they have on the wall in the house next door.
Bingo.
I message Lynette, my elderly neighbour, and ask if Mackenzie can borrow her ‘beautiful Egyptian artwork’. I’m worried Lynette won’t be awake – it’s early – but she messages back in seconds, and offers to bring it round.
I feel like Supermum. Like I have literally saved the world.
‘Lynette is bringing something perfect,’ I tell Mackenzie.
Mackenzie looks at me. ‘For what?’
‘For your Egypt show-and-tell.’
Mackenzie shrugs. ‘Oh, that,’ she says. ‘It’s not important.’
I consider throwing something at her, but the doorbell rings.
Lynette is at the gate, and thrilled to be helping. I thank her effusively, deciding that it’s better to keep her away from Mackenzie, who might not show sufficient gratitude. I use the opportunity to tell Lynette that we’re going away, and she wants to talk about Mauritius. I know she’s lonely, but I have to get Mackenzie to school, and before I know it, I’ve arranged to pop by for afternoon tea. Which is literally the last thing I can manage. But the promise gets Lynette out, and Mackenzie and I finally leave for school.
On the way, Daniel messages me: What hotel are you staying at in Mauritius?
I want to tell him it’s none of his business, but I need him to sign the affidavit. So, when we’re stuck at an endless red light, I simply message him the link to our package. Hopefully he’ll realise that I can’t be bothered to give him the information myself.
At school, things go downhill.
Mackenzie and I bump into Janice outside the classroom. ‘We’re going to Mauritius,’ Mackenzie tells Janice before either of us can say anything. ‘Mummy decided yesterday.’
Janice looks gobsmacked. I’m quite sure she’s rehearsed a little speech about my separation from Daniel and me not telling her. And this must look like I’m raining on her Italy trip. I’ve probably offended her on so many levels that she’ll never talk to me again.
I go for honesty.
‘I’m a mess,’ I tell her. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Daniel for so long. And I’m sorry I’m going to Mauritius. I’m just a mess.’
Janice is looking at me like I’m crazy. ‘Claire,’ she says, taking my arm, ‘I totally understand why you didn’t want to talk about Daniel. We all do. We respect that.’
As she says this, I realise it’s true. While most of the friends I messaged yesterday came back with things like So sorry. Xxx, no one asked questions and no one made me feel bad. That was all in my own head.
‘As for Mauritius – why on earth are you apologising? I think it’s a magnificent idea. You be sure to take lots of pictures, you hear?’ I nod, speechless.
‘Now,’ says Janice, ‘what can I do to help you? It must be madness with this last-minute planning, and I know how busy you are.’
‘Janice,’ I say, ‘you know what? You’ve already helped me. So much.’ I give her a hug.
‘Can we go in now?’ demands Mackenzie from waist level, and we mums both laugh.
When I come out of the classroom, I bump into Laurel.
‘I overheard your conversation with Janice,’ she says after we greet each other. ‘You’re right. She’s actually a very nice person. I misjudged your sheeple.’
‘I probably misjudged them too,’ I say.
Laurel laughs. ‘So,’ she says, ‘Mauritius?’
‘You should come,’ I say, inspired. ‘Please come with me?’
Laurel laughs. ‘That would be so fabulous,’ she agrees. ‘But I can’t.’
‘Sandy?’
‘Nothing that exciting. We’re going to Max’s folks’ place at the coast. Family holiday. His sister’s kids’ school is also closed for this stupid course, so apparently that was taken as a sign that we should all go away together.’
‘Sounds fun,’ I say.
‘Not to me,’ laughs Laurel. ‘But what can I do? And the kids love it – all the cousins together.’
Now I’m worrying that I’ve made a mistake. What is Mackenzie going to do on an island with just me? But it’s like Laurel reads my mind.
‘You and Mackenzie are going to have a ball, Claire. And you need the break.’
It would seem that absolutely everyone in the world thinks I need to go to Mauritius. I decide to stop feeling guilty, and just get ready.
Helen
I phone Edward in the morning during a lull at work.
He explains that he’s having his brother and his wife, Lizette, and Miriam’s brother, to lunch on Saturday. Tomorrow.
‘Please come, Helen,’ he says. ‘There are too many men, and Lizette will feel awkward. She finds me ridiculous anyway, thinks I should buck up.’
‘She doesn’t sound very nice,’ I say, wondering if I want to spend an afternoon with her.
‘Oh, she’s fine. A bit annoying, but I liked her well enough before. She just can’t understand grief. Her greatest loss in her life so far has been her dog.’
‘Surely she’s lost parents?’
‘No,’ says Edward. ‘They’re obscenely old and obscenely healthy. They’re not even a burden to her. I think she thinks I’ve done something careless, letting Miriam get damaged and dependent. Like it was my fault, which it wasn’t. But other than that, she’s actually quite nice.’ We both laugh, and I have a strange thought: Edward’s going to be okay. I don’t know where it comes from – being okay is not something I expect of people. It’s not something I think people should necessarily aspire to.
‘And
