Not Quite Nice Read Free Page B

disappointment.
    She wanted to be like Ann and Sarah, who appeared hardly to have changed since the days of hockey sticks and homework. Despite life’s vagaries, both women seemed so radiant and full of energy. What was their secret?
    ‘Mmm,’ said Sarah, sipping the red wine. ‘A lovely Tuscan red. But not nearly as good as the stuff I get from the next-door farm.’
    ‘You get wine from a farm in Wiltshire?’
    ‘Oh God, Theresa, keep up! I left Wiltshire ages ago, about a year after Ron died. Too depressing staying. Too many memories, you know, so I sold up and moved to a run-down old shack without water or electricity a few miles south of Montalcino. Our local wine is Brunello, the taste of heaven.’
    ‘You live without water and electricity, Sarah?’ shrieked Ann. ‘Gah! I have to have my comforts.’
    ‘No, silly. The house has been my project. Fifteen years’ work and it’s almost like a real home. Every mod con you could wish for in Islington, but I’m smack in the middle of an olive grove with lovely views of the Tuscan hills. I even have my own private swimming pool.’
    Theresa felt a stirring of envy. ‘So are you in Italy too, Ann?’ she asked, dreaming of olive groves, lemon trees and bowls of huge red tomatoes.
    ‘Andalucía,’ Ann replied. ‘Cadiz, in fact. It’s like a very hot, sunny, Spanish version of Liverpool.’
    ‘Don’t you get homesick?’ said Catherine. ‘I still live in the house where we brought up the kids. I enjoy the familiarity.’
    ‘Me too,’ said Margaret.
    Sarah shuddered. ‘Nothing on earth would get me back to the UK. I don’t know how you all put up with it.’
    ‘Me neither,’ said Ann.
    ‘I live just round the corner from my son,’ said Louise. ‘Though, to be truthful, I don’t really see that much of him. Dan and his wife seem to spend half the year jetting off to exotic places. But they really need me there, you see, to take care of the grandchildren for them whenever they’re away.’
    ‘It’s the grandchildren for me too,’ said Catherine. ‘My daughter wouldn’t be able to manage without me. Or him indoors. I don’t think Jonathan would want to leave Blighty. He’d miss the cricket. And anyhow all that foreign food disagrees with him.’
    ‘He has a point. I couldn’t live without my English tea,’ added Margaret.
    ‘Ah, Margaret,’ said Ann with a wink. ‘I don’t miss England a bit. But I have to confess I occasionally pop over to Gibraltar to stock up on tea and Marmite.’
    ‘I don’t understand how you two can bear to live in some strange foreign land,’ said Catherine, ‘with nothing familiar around you and no family nearby.’
    Sarah interrupted. ‘Well, I don’t understand how you three can bear not to break the ties and start anew.’
    Louise sighed. ‘How can you leave your children and grandchildren?’
    ‘We have phones and Skype in Italy, you know,’ said Sarah. ‘Just cos there’s wall-to-wall sunshine doesn’t mean we’re in a time warp.’
    ‘And my lot come and visit.’ Ann shrugged. ‘Which feels like a lot more fun all round.’
    ‘Change is the important thing,’ added Sarah. ‘Perspective. Not letting the familiar ties trap you like a fly in a cobweb.’
    When the evening came to an end Theresa rushed along Long Acre towards the tube station, wishing she’d had the foresight to bring an umbrella. The vertical sheets of rain burned her face and froze her hands. So much for the English summer. She was glad to get home.
    But the next morning Theresa called in estate agents and put her house on the market. She liked the thought of change, blowing the dust away but, for the sake of the family, decided to stay put in London.
    When she wasn’t working, she spent her breaks looking at websites displaying flats in Highgate. After work she went round to see some of the places for sale.
    She was not impressed. In comparison to her well-worn but lovely, quirky old house, everywhere seemed characterless