Pitch Imperfect(32)
“Is that why he never answered my letters or phone calls?” Anjuli said, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice.
“Why don’t you ask him? Preferably over drinks, dinner and romantic music. A sexy dress and candlelight do wonders for loosening a man’s tongue.”
“There will be no loosening of anything except my temper if you don’t stop talking about Rob. Why don’t you tell me about the other men in Heaverlock? I met the vet a few days ago...yum.”
Mac’s lips twisted. “Damien Mitchell thinks he’s Heaverlock’s David Beckham, God’s gift because he’s blond and perpetually tanned. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a great vet. Understanding and sympathetic to the boys when our cat died, but he’s so full of himself there’s no room for anybody else. Rosie Barrett said he told her point blank he was only interested in sex.”
“Maybe I should text him.”
Mac planted her hands on her ample hips. “The village bins are full of the broken hearts he’s thrown away since he moved here.”
“So I gather you really like him.”
“I would hate it if you fell for such a womanising tosser.”
“Don’t worry Mac, the village man-whore won’t get his hands on me. Neither will anybody else.”
Mac gave Anjuli a long, intent look. “Rob said you’re divorced. If I had known I would have got in touch, but you never told me anything about it.”
“There’s nothing to tell. We met. We married. We divorced.”
“Maybe it was for the best,” Mac said, and then slapped her forehead. “Forget I said that. What would I know about it, anyway? Let’s rip him to shreds over a bottle of wine tomorrow night.”
“No need. The divorce was friendly. I’m just never going to get married again.”
“Never? What about love?”
“I think I covered that song at a concert once.”
“Okay, what about sex, then?”
“It makes my hair go frizzy.”
“Snuggling in front of the TV?”
“The surest way to make you fat.”
Mac looked at Anjuli admiringly. “You complained about your figure so much I thought I would see my old friend with saggy boobs and a stomach I could rub like a Buddha statue. Yet here you are, looking even better than you did eight years ago. It’s children that make you fat, but trust me, babies are the best thing in the world so it doesn’t matter. I can’t imagine life without my boys.” She laughed and rolled her eyes. “Of course, our home is noisy and the bills are as high as Ben Nevis. But it’s worth it because of them. There’s nothing like children to teach you what’s really important in life.”
Anjuli forced a smile onto her face and kept it there because no, no and no. She wasn’t going to feel jealous of the nicest, sweetest woman she knew. She wasn’t. She wasn’t going to think why are you so lucky and why am I so unfortunate? Or punch the wall because her child was gone forever. Mac deserved only happiness, not the envy that was twisting her gut, turning her greener than the walls and darker than the bitterest chocolate.
Mac’s eyes shone as she spoke of her children, and for the first time since Chloe’s death Anjuli felt like sharing that she had, once, also been a mother. She wanted to tell Mac about Chloe’s dark brown curls and her big green eyes; her stubborn refusal to stay seated and the way she was enchanted by birds. About the little spot at the top of her head that had always smelled like roses.
But if she did Mac would feel guilty for being so blessed. She would be sad, and Anjuli would never willingly gift anyone her sorrow. What’s more, Mac would cry again and she couldn’t watch her friend do something for Chloe that she herself couldn’t. Oh, she’d tried, in the beginning. Alone, in the flat they’d shared in France, and under a grey sky surrounded by strangers whose names were carved in stone. Violent, uncontrollable spasms had wrenched her gut, emptied her stomach and clenched her heart so tightly she couldn’t breathe. No, she couldn’t cry.
Mac’s animated face became sly. “It’s too bad the boys don’t have an auntie. Someone who could calm their boisterous natures with music instruction, perhaps on a Thursday evening? Rob takes them to rugby practice every week and he could drop them off and stay until the lesson finished. I could pick them up and then you two could...text each other.”
Anjuli threw her hands in the air. “You’re hell bent on matchmaking us, aren’t you?”
“Of course. It’s part of the younger sister job description. Neither of my brothers has provided my boys with aunties and that’s a career setback. Ben cares only about his job and he never tells me anything about his love life. How am I going to find him a wife if he won’t help me out? And Rob is just as tight-lipped.” Mac clucked her tongue in annoyance. “If I didn’t have dinner with the twins I’d know nothing about their lives.”