‘I come down here most days now,’ Abi says, nodding to the sea like she’s visiting an old friend. ‘It’s one of the best things about living here.’
Rosie turns to look at Abi briefly, smiles. She remembers their walk up to the viewing spot in Waverly. She’d been so full of expectation of their friendship then, fantasized about the two of them going on weekends away together, their kids having sleepovers, how they’d become so close they wouldn’t be able to imagine life without the other. It was like she’d known even then that Abi was going to have an important role in her life, and she hadn’t, of course, been wrong. Abi had been bigger, more explosive than she could ever have imagined, just not in the way she’d planned.
‘I saw Lily collecting Margot the other day. She said she comes down here to sketch.’
Abi laughs. ‘Yep. Early Sunday mornings are her favourite. All those confused, dehydrated Saturday night ravers, their wide, crazy eyes immortalized in charcoal.’
They laugh together and it feels like they’ve been laughing together their whole lives.
Lily decided to stay at school in Waverly. Rosie heard people mutter words like ‘extraordinary’ and ‘so impressive’, but Lily loved her mum. That was all. She knew how to be sad and angry at the years of lying but she didn’t know how to be ashamed of Abi and she liked her school. For Lily, it was that simple. Margot, still too young to know the truth, was happy to stay too. Besides, Rosie figured, even if they went somewhere new, there was every chance that someone in the new school would have read about them online or in the papers. It reminds Rosie of the article written for a left-leaning Sunday supplement that Seb emailed her a copy of a couple of weeks ago. It was the only interview Abi had agreed to because, unlike all the other media, the focus wasn’t on Abi or Seb – it was on the adult industries and made the case calmly and clearly for the decriminalization of sex work. Regulating the whole industry to keep everyone a little safer. The journalist had sent Seb, on Abi’s request, a copy of the article before it went to press.
‘I enjoyed the article, by the way.’
Abi nods. ‘Yeah, well, they did a good job. I wasn’t sure for ages whether it was the right thing but, I don’t know, there was so much rubbish being written about me it felt like a wasted opportunity not to try and make some good come from all the attention.’
In the article Abi had called herself ‘Emma’ and Rosie wonders again, as she did when she read the article, whether Abi has resurrected Emma, whether she’s started working again from Brighton. But where once Rosie would have felt fluttery, almost anxious with not knowing, now she just feels mildly curious before the question fades, like that particular query never really belonged to her in the first place.
Abi turns to face Rosie again and asks, ‘Seb’s last week at school. How are you all feeling?’
Rosie breathes in deeply, the cold sea air sharp and bright in her lungs. The governors’ verdict – that there was no evidence that Seb had used school property to look for sex workers and that he hadn’t broken any rules of conduct – had taken them both by surprise. They’d nodded and smiled weakly at each other; this was good news! But Rosie’s stomach had twisted, and her chest felt heavy, bricks piled on the delicate scaffold of her ribcage. One evening, Seb had turned to Rosie, his face white, his brow rippled, as he said, ‘I don’t think I want to be head teacher any more.’
And she’d cried with relief.
Seb agreed to stay in post until Christmas, help ensure a smooth handover to the current deputy head, Mr Clegg. They haven’t packed a single bag, but their flights are booked for Boxing Day and they’ve found a small house to rent in what Maggie says is an up-and-coming Sydney suburb. It is happening.
It had been Seb’s idea. He’d suggested it in one of their weekly couple’s therapy sessions and so Rosie had messaged Maggie that evening to find out if her offer of work was still on the table. Maggie had immediately arranged a Zoom with Rosie and by the end of the call they’d already started talking about Rosie’s salary. It was like a kind wind was propelling them along, blowing them all the way gently to the other side of the world.
Next to her, Abi is still waiting patiently for an answer and Rosie widens her eyes and smiles without trying. ‘Excited. I mean, we all wobble sometimes, of course – the kids will miss their friends – but, yeah, I think we need an adventure together. It feels right.’
Abi nods; she’s smiling too. She gets it.
To be new they need to go somewhere new. In Australia, they’ll only have each other to rely on and Rosie is strangely looking forward to that. To a simpler, less peopled life. Maybe they are running away from Waverly, but she doesn’t care because it also feels like they are running towards each other.
‘How about you – are you going to miss your friends?’ Abi asks.