Emily hurried into the hospital room, clutching a bag of fruit, her heart racing. “Darling Charlotte, you gave me such a fright! When your daughter called to say youd had a heart scare, I nearly collapsed right there in the street!”
Charlotte lay by the window, pale but smiling. “Oh, Emily, thank goodness youre here! Its been dreadfully dullI thought Id lose my mind from boredom.”
Emily set the bag on the bedside table and glanced around. The room held four beds, but only two were occupied. On the bed beside Charlottes lay a woman with long silver hair neatly braided, her back turned.
“Whos your roommate?” Emily whispered, settling into the chair.
“Thats Margaret. She was brought in yesterday. Very quietjust reads or watches things on her phone. They say her blood pressures as temperamental as my heart,” Charlotte murmured.
Just then, the woman turned, and Emily felt the blood drain from her face. Those familiar hazel eyes, the delicate features unchanged by time, the mole on her left cheek
“Margaret?” Emily breathed. “Margaret Whitmore?”
The woman froze, then slowly sat up, staring. “Emily Bennett? Good heavens it cant be.”
Charlotte looked between them, bewildered. “You two know each other?”
“Know each other?” Emilys grip tightened on the chair. “Oh, we know each other very well.”
An awkward silence fell. Margaret studied her hands while Emily kept staring, as if to confirm she wasnt hallucinating.
“Someone explain!” Charlotte burst out. “Emily, you look like youve seen a ghost!”
“Almost a ghost,” Emily said softly. “Margaret and I havent spoken in thirty-two years.”
“Thirty-two?” Charlotte gasped. “Were you school friends?”
“Not exactly friends,” Emily said, sitting stiffly. “We shared certain interests once.”
Margaret lifted her gaze, meeting Emilys for the first time. “How is Edward?” she asked quietly.
Emilys knuckles whitened. “My husband died eight years ago. A heart attack.”
“Im so sorry,” Margaret whispered.
Emily waved a hand. “It is what it is. Life moves on.”
Charlotte leaned forward. “Alright, enough mystery! How do you actually know each other?”
Emily and Margaret exchanged a glance. Neither seemed eager to start.
“We worked together,” Emily finally said. “At a school in Manchester. I taught English, and Margaret taught history.”
“Only for two years,” Margaret added.
“Did you quarrel over work?” Charlotte pressed.
“Over a man,” Emily said bluntly. “The oldest story in the book.”
Margaret flinched. “Emily, please”
“Why not?” Emily turned to her. “Charlotte wont let it go. And honestly, what does it matter now?”
Margaret sighed. “I suppose it doesnt.”
“Out with it, then!” Charlotte demanded. “Ill die of curiosity otherwise!”
Emily leaned back, gazing out the window. “I was twenty-four, fresh out of university, teaching at St. Marys. Young, naive, and hopelessly infatuated with Edwardthe deputy head. Handsome, clever, ten years older. Married, of course.”
“Oh dear,” Charlotte muttered.
“Exactly,” Emily said wryly. “We had an affair. Secret, naturally. He spun the usual taleshis marriage was a sham, his wife didnt understand him Then Margaret joined the staff. Beautiful, witty, bright. And Edward decided one mistress wasnt enough.”
Margaret shook her head. “It wasnt like that”
“Wasnt it?” Emilys voice sharpened. “You knew about us! I told you myself! We were friends!”
“We were,” Margaret admitted quietly. “I never meant for it to happen. He said what you had wasnt seriousthat it was just a fling.”
Emily laughed bitterly. “And I bet he told me you were some silly girl throwing yourself at married men! The snake played us both!”
Margaret paled. “He said that about me?”
“Word for word! And we fell for it! We let him pit us against each other!”
Charlotte wiped her eyes. “Girls, this is awful! You lost decades of friendship over that that cad!”
“Worse than a cad,” Emily said. “A textbook narcissist. But we were too young to see it.”
Margaret nodded. “I spent years ashamed. Terrified of running into you, thinking youd hate me forever.”
“And I thought you hated me for marrying him later,” Emily admitted.
Charlotte sniffed. “You both were duped! You shouldve been allies!”
“True,” Emily sighed. “But youth makes fools of us all. Still I did find happiness with Edward, eventually. After his second divorce, we married. Twenty-four years, two sons. He wasnt the dashing charmer anymore, but he was a good father.”
“My William was the opposite,” Margaret said. “Steady, quiet. An engineer who fixed radios for fun. No grand romance, but solid as oak.”
“Sounds perfect,” Emily smiled.
Charlotte sighed dramatically. “And here I never marriedtoo scared of being fooled!”
“Nonsense!” Margaret chided. “Good men exist. You just have to spot them.”
“Too late now,” Charlotte laughed.
“Never!” Emily insisted. “Once were out, well find you a dashing widower!”
The three burst into laughter, the years melting away.
“You know,” Emily mused, “maybe its for the best we fought back then. If wed stayed friends, we mightve ended up marrying that scoundrel in turns!”
“Stop!” Charlotte giggled. “Though its rather poeticyou both found real love after him.”
Margaret reached for Emilys hand. “Shall we start over? Properly this time?”
Emily squeezed back. “Absolutely. Lets not waste another thirty years.”
Outside, the rain cleared, sunlight breaking through the clouds.
