6

10 October

The party went well. All the food was eaten and all the drink was drunk and no one hit anyone or even threw any outright insults. A great success as far as a family party went. But things had gone downhill since then.

Lisa had had a very bad couple of weeks. It seemed unlikely that Kerry had made it up with her boyfriend. After an hour and a half she had come out of the downstairs loo looking weepy. When Lisa asked her what was wrong she said, ‘Nothing!’ But in a way that meant everything. And Paula was a teenager now too, which is never good news for a parent. Jack had been picked for the school football team. This was good news, but Lisa had fallen asleep while watching the match on Saturday. He hadn’t forgiven her for missing his goal. His cold angry silence was different from the girls’ noisy rows, but still awful.

Lisa rang Carol and confessed to falling asleep on the sidelines.

‘Are you ill?’ asked Carol.

Carol was never ill. She said she hadn’t got time to be ill. She also hadn’t got time for people who were ill. She didn’t say so – she didn’t have to. Her actions spoke louder than words. When Carol’s husband broke his arm last year, she said he’d done it on purpose to get out of painting the front room. Except that Carol called the front room a lounge now. If Bill had slipped on ice and fallen under a moving bike on purpose it didn’t work. Carol made him paint with his left hand. Being ill was a weakness as far as Carol was concerned.

‘I have been feeling a bit off,’ said Lisa. ‘I think I have a tummy bug. I’ve a temperature. It comes and goes.’

‘Never heard of that,’ said Carol. And because Carol hadn’t heard of it she meant it didn’t exist.

‘I’ve been feeling really sick and I’m washed out. I haven’t the energy to deal with moody kids.’

‘It’s the Change,’ said Carol. She sounded pleased to have solved the mystery.

‘I beg your pardon?’ said Lisa. She was not pleased with this idea at all.

‘You’re menopausal. Hot flushes and tiredness are signs. Plus you’ve been really moody recently. You say the kids are moody, but you’re far worse,’ said Carol.

Lisa was not sure if this was true. But she was not sure if it was untrue either. Last night, watching TV with Mark, she had cried at an advert that had kittens in it. They weren’t being mistreated. They were being fed on the brand that eight out of ten cats prefer. She was being more than a little emotional. She was confused about so many things.

The children growing up and not needing her was a worry. What would she do with her life after they’d all left home? And what was the matter with Kerry? Shouldn’t she be over her heartbreak by now? It had been days now, and she was a teenager – she should have moved on. Lisa couldn’t think that the DIY course would lead her to a new career. Besides, she didn’t want a new career. She liked her old one. She liked being a mum. She quickly added up how many years it would be before she was a granny. At least another ten. It was too long. Yet at the same time she wasn’t anywhere near ready to be a granny!

Lisa was also still in pain over her split from Keith. It wasn’t that she still missed him. He hadn’t been that great for quite a few years of her marriage. She’d more or less been on her own for about five years before he left. It just left her feeling too… What was the word? Open? Unprotected? Vulnerable?

The truth was Lisa was nervous that the party had only got going when Mark arrived. She was enjoying having him around far too much. It couldn’t be a good thing, getting involved with a younger man. He wouldn’t stay forever. She didn’t know why he’d stayed this long. As usual when these thoughts flooded into Lisa’s head, she ignored them.

‘I’m too young for the menopause,’ said Lisa, hotly.

‘It happens to some people earlier than others,’ said Carol. Was she enjoying this?

Lisa wanted to ask Carol if early menopause was a family trait. Had Carol been through it? But she was too embarrassed. Carol and Lisa had never, ever talked about anything like that. Between them they’d been through five pregnancies. In all that time they’d pretended to be like Barbie dolls (at least ‘down there’). Sadly, neither of them had Barbie-like pert boobs or tiny waists.

As soon as Lisa put down the phone she went on the internet and did a search on ‘menopause’. She didn’t like what she found. Maybe she was closer to being a granny than she’d thought! She was getting old before her time. It wasn’t fair!

Then Lisa called Gill. Lisa knew that Gill was the perfect person to call. Their friendship had really developed in just a few weeks. Lisa could pick up the phone and talk about hot flushes with Gill and be honest.

‘What makes you think you’re menopausal?’ asked Gill.

‘I went on the web. I looked up the symptoms. I have about thirty of the possible thirty-five!’ Lisa wanted to cry. She didn’t want to get old. Who does?

‘Read the list to me,’ said Gill.

‘Hot flushes, trouble sleeping and night sweats,’ said Lisa.

‘That’s probably just because the totally fab Mark stays over at your place more often than not. You’ve forgotten that it’s sweaty sleeping with someone else in the bed,’ said Gill.

‘You paint such a romantic picture,’ said Lisa. She read more from her list. ‘Irregular heartbeat.’

‘I’d put that down to Mark too. His smile makes my heart flutter,’ said Gill.

‘Mood swings, sudden tears,’ said Lisa.

‘Is that a warning?’ asked Gill.

‘Irritability,’ Lisa said with some anger. Why couldn’t Gill take this seriously?

Lisa skipped over the next two symptoms. One was loss of sex drive. She didn’t have a problem there. The other had to do with what her mum called her ‘front bottom’. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words over the phone. Face to face and a glass of wine in hand maybe, but not now.

Lisa read on. ‘Tiredness, anxiety, feelings of dread, difficulty in concentrating, memory lapses.’

‘Lisa, maybe this isn’t the menopause, maybe this is your personality,’ said Gill.

She was trying to be helpful.

Gill was not going to be serious. She often laughed when Lisa had a moan. It was one of the things Lisa liked about her. Lisa decided to shut up. She didn’t tell Gill about her sore boobs or mucked-up cycle. The mucked-up cycle had been going on for a couple of months now. Lisa hadn’t wanted to face the fact. What was the point in talking about it? It was the menopause. Cold hard fact. Lisa would pop to Boots and see if there were any vitamins that would help.

‘How are things with you?’ Lisa asked to be polite.

‘Your brother rang me and asked me for a date,’ said Gill.

‘What? I hope you told him where to get off! John’s a cheating, many-timing rat. I wouldn’t wish him on my worst enemy, let alone my new friend. He’s selfish, lazy commitment-phobic and yet women just melt. I don’t get it,’ said Lisa.

‘It’s his smile,’ said Gill. ‘He has a lovely smile.’

‘Really? I think he always looks smug. Still, well done you, for telling him to hop it,’ said Lisa.

‘I said yes, actually,’ said Gill.

‘Oh.’

Although Gill had married, divorced and had kids, she wasn’t like Lisa. Gill hadn’t been worn down with worry about school tests, hearing tests, swimming lessons and other mum stuff. She looked about ten years younger than Lisa and had a decent job as the manager at Next in the High Street.

The bad news was that she still secretly believed in ‘the one’. Even though she’d rowed with her old ‘one’ about who got the furniture.

‘I thought you were OK with this. He said you gave him my number,’ said Gill.

‘Well, he lied. Get used to it.’ First of many, no doubt. ‘He must have nosed through my address book while he was babysitting when I was at my night class,’ said Lisa.

‘He’s taking me to that new Italian in town,’ said Gill. She sounded happy.

‘Order something expensive,’ said Lisa. She sounded cross.

Since Lisa was fourteen, John had dated a number of her friends. It always ended badly. Lisa’s friends never wanted to admit they’d been taken for a fool or that John was a rat. So, oddly, Lisa always got the blame. She’d lost more friends through John’s romantic adventures than she cared to remember.

‘He breaks hearts,’ said Lisa.

But she knew she was wasting her breath. No one ever learnt from anyone else’s mistakes, and few of us learn from our own. Lisa was not looking forward to another friend getting hurt.

‘I don’t think you should go on the date,’ said Lisa.

Gill was huffy. ‘You need to learn to trust again. Your problem is you can no longer see chance or even goodness anywhere.’

‘That’s not true,’ said Lisa, hurt.

‘Yes, it is. Look at the way you treat Mark,’ said Gill.

‘I don’t treat Mark badly.’

‘You hardly know he’s there, Lisa! You’ve just talked about your imaginary menopause for longer than you’ve ever talked to me about Mark.’

Really? That couldn’t be right, could it?

‘You should enjoy this new love,’ said Gill.

What was she talking about? New love? What did Mark have to do with love? Mark was a fling, a stopgap, something other than Keith. That was all.

Gill had not finished. ‘And one more thing. You’d better buy a pregnancy test. Just in case.’

With that she hung up the phone.