Female friendships come in two flavours: the occasional coffee catchup and the lifelong kind. Eleanor Whitaker had her own tale to tell.
Alright, thats it for today, she said cheerfully, hanging up the phone. My husband will be home from work soon, and I havent even started dinner yet. Give your man a kiss and ring us as soon as youve nailed down the travel dates! Her friends husband was due to visit their daughter in Paris, so a real chance to meet up was on the horizon.
Its such a shame Vera lives so far away now, and everythings gotten so pricey and hard to arrange, the Countess sighed for the umpteenth time. At least we can chat at length over the phone. Despite the rare meetups and wildly different lifestyles, they always slid back into conversation as if no time had passed. Most women Ive known, especially those I made after moving abroad in middle age, never quite manage that. Youd think a tight social circle that frequents the same events, travels to the same spots, and shares the same interests would have endless material to discussyet often its a struggle to keep the chatter genuine.
Eleanor and Vera had known each other since primary school, but their true bond only blossomed after Megan Clarke left Britain. Back in school each of them kept to her own little world, only brushing past the other occasionally, even though Eleanor always yearned for a proper friendone straight out of the novels, the real deal.
Writers dont lie; they pull from life when theyre not writing fairy tales or fantasy, right? Theres a wellworn belief, bolstered by countless jokes, that true female friendship doesnt existonly the sturdy male camaraderie. But what is male camaraderie? Going to a football match together, helping each other move heavy furniture, discussing politics, maybe lending a few quid theyll never pour their souls out to one another. At best theyll gripe about a spouse or a boss.
Megan split friendship into two camps: friends and buddies. Buddies were plentiful; you could talk about anything and everything, but only on the surfacefashion, health, beauty, books, movies, travel, home life, childrearing, caring for elderly parents. A friend, however, was someone you could be completely yourself with, spill your deepest secrets without fearing ridicule, and count on for unconditional support. That friend would show up at a moments notice, rain or shine, with or without a bottle in hand, and sit with you for hours, listening to the same story in countless variations, wiping away your tears and sniffles.
Eleanor knew such a friend existed because she would act exactly like that herself. Nighttime rescues werent always possiblefirst the kids, then the husband, but otherwise shed always lend a hand. It took a long, winding road, but she finally found it in Vera.
There were blunders and disappointments along the way, starting with a neighbour shed known since they were toddlers. A broken, handmade dollgifted by the neighbours parents for her birthdaysparked a feud after a visiting cousin soaked it with water while they played house. The neighbour blamed Megan, and when Vera didnt defend her, their friendship ended.
Later, a friend in the States grew angry over a trivial matter and cut off contact, despite years of shared hardship in exile and sincere apologies from Eleanor. The star of that falsefriend circle, however, was Harriet Jones.
Harriet entered the secondgrade class and slipped straight into the group. She was short, stout, with tightly curled hair braided into a thick plait. Where she lacked conventional beauty, she made up for it with boundless energy, confidence, and a laugh that some called infectious, others likened to a snort. The girls bonded quickly, living on the same block and taking the same tube home. They started a ritual: each day on the way to the station theyd buy a singlescoop icecream cone with a pink sprinkle from a little stall. Megan usually footed the bill, as Harriets mother gave her a single pound a week with the instruction, Heres your allowancedont skimp on anything. Megan believed friends shouldnt keep petty tabs.
That daily icecream habit hardened the previously frail girls; colds rarely bothered them, and their parents even signed them up for a swimming club they all attended together after lessons. They did everything together: cinema, theatre, exhibitions (if Megan disliked a particular artist, Harriet would assert, You just havent grown into it yet), pioneer camps, dance and art classes. Megan liked drawing but quit after Harriet tore into a quail shed painted, calling it more a cow than a bird, though it was oiloncanvas, which Harriet claimed made it superior.
Both fell for the same boy in primary school and broke up with him simultaneouslyat least thats what Megan thought until she discovered Harriet had secretly kept a torch for him. Their parents were preoccupied, while Grandma Shaw would shake her head and warn, Stay away from that Harriet, shell be jealous. Megan would retort, You dont understand, were true friends! Megan was ready to cede leadership, accept absolute judgments, and tolerate endless tardiness, considering all that trivial compared with the certainty that a friend would be a rock for her.
Harriet once decided to tell a classmate courting Megan that he wasnt suitable and should leave her alone. Megan chalked it up to Harriets overprotectiveness and resolute nature. Later, when Megans mother, a psychologist, lectured her harshly about her close bond with a university peer, Harriet soothed the crying girl and boldly defended her.
Their friendship survived university choices, temptations, weddings where each served as the others maid of honour, and the birth of first children. Then they drifted: Eleanor to the United States, Harriet to Israel, and their contact dwindled for several years. They unexpectedly reunited on neutral groundin Amsterdam. The initial thrill gave way to confusion when Eleanor learned Harriet had visited the States many times in the interim without ever reaching out. Harriet boasted about a fling with Eleanors most ardent admirer, even hinting at intimate details Eleanor never wanted to hear. It stung, but the meeting was still pleasant; Vera, who had arrived from London, joined them, and old grievances were either forgotten or neatly tucked away.
A few more years passed with lazy correspondence and occasional meetups. By then Harriet was divorced and perpetually seeking a new partner, while Eleanors marriage was floundering. Children grew, and they simply tried to endure. Eventually it became unbearable.
Then an old acquaintance resurfaced. They began emailing, later meeting when Eleanor flew to his city for a medical conference, reminiscing about the past, andpredictablyended up in bed. A brief affair sparked. Eleanor didnt feel proud, but life suddenly took on brighter colours and she couldntor didnt want tostop it.
Their meetings were sporadic: sometimes she slipped away for a conference, other times he was on a work trip. One day her lover suggested a perfect planto meet in Israel, where both had relatives, with Harriet covering the backstop. The plan was shaky from the start, but they took the risk. Harriet threw herself into the scheme, approving the lover with, Thats exactly what you need, not the bloke you married! She even tried to sneak a look at him while Eleanor was away, only to be rebuked.
They toured chic galleries, pricey restaurants (Harriet chose the venue, he paid), and everything went smoothly enough that the lovers booked a threeday getaway to Eilat. Harriet began packing, assuming shed be invited, but the lover refused to foot her travel costs.
Whats the point of a blacksmith? he asked reasonably. So Harriet was left in Jerusalem, inventing excuses for any call from his wife.
Three days flew by. When the sunbrowned lovers were heading back to Jerusalem, Harriets phone rang.
Your husband called me last night. He caught me off guard, I was flustered, spent the whole night trying to calm him, but he seemed to know everything already, she blurted. Better that way, otherwise youd never have made a decision.
Then came the long, painful reckoning with her own husband, a makeshift marriage patched together for a few more years. As for Harriet? She never owned up to any guilt, apparently convinced shed done Eleanor a favour. Eleanor never brought up the painful episode again.
They still exchange occasional messages, but they no longer invite each other to repeat weddings or meet in person. One evening Eleanors phone buzzed with a notification: Google Photos had compiled a new album of pictures of her and Vera over the years of trips and gatherings.
They can read our minds now, Eleanor muttered, halfamused, then settled back to enjoy the memories. But there is still real friendship, she thought with a sigh of relief.
