The call came out of the blue, and at six in the morning.
‘Is that you, Lainie?’ a woman’s voice piped down the phone. Elaine sat up, giving the voice her full attention. Only one person still called her Lainie.
‘Annie, is that you?’
‘Yes!’ Annie laughed. ‘Sorry, did I wake you? It’s nine o’clock over here.’
But Elaine was wide awake now. She and her old friend had mainly kept in touch by text and email since Annie emigrated 20 years ago. It was a long time since she’d heard her voice. Now Elaine was picturing the last time she’d seen her friend, sitting in the lotus position in a Glastonbury field, wearing a psychedelic kaftan and a paisley headscarf.
‘I was sorry to hear your news,’ Annie said, breaking into Elaine’s thoughts.
‘News?’
‘You know, about Mark.’
‘How did you find out?’ Elaine asked.
‘You texted me. Don’t you remember?’
Elaine’s husband Mark had left her a year ago. He’d been unhappy for a while, he’d said, and anyway the children were all grown-up and self-sufficient now. He’d sworn there was no one else but he’d moved in with his business partner, Julia, two weeks later.
Elaine had completely forgotten texting Annie one Friday night after a few glasses of red, feeling the need to offload to someone who’d known her before Mark.
‘I remember now,’ Elaine said. ‘Sorry about going off on one like that.’
‘I was chuffed you thought of me,’ Annie replied. ‘Anyway, strikes me you’re well rid of him.’
Then, after a pause, ‘You should come to Paxos, Lainie? We’ve got some catching up to do, and you need to get your groove back.’
Elaine smiled on hearing her friend’s words. She was still the same old Annie.
‘You’re well rid of him’
Elaine had been an introverted child, lanky
