I thought we were friends, but youve taken my husband!
You just dont get it! You wont understand! Polinas voice cracked into a shout, and she slammed the sketchbook shut with a force that sent the pages fluttering. To you its all doodles, childish play!
Poppy, thats not what I meant, Marian said wearily, pressing her palms to her temples. The headache that had started that morning now hammered at the back of her skull. Im just trying to say that being a designer is a gamble. One day you have commissions, the next you have none. Accounting is a steady slice of breadalways there.
Your slice of bread, not mine! Poppy leapt from her chair, eyes flashing. I dont want to spend my whole life crunching numbers like you! I want to create, to make things beautiful! Aunt Sophie gets me; shes the only one who believes in my talent.
Mentioning Sophie made Marians heart tighten. Sophieher best friend, her rock in the darkest timeshad lately become more of a mentor to Poppy than a motherly figure to Marian herself.
Sophie lives in another world, love. She runs a successful salon, can afford to talk about high art. You and I are living paycheck to paycheck.
Exactly! Poppy cried, snatching her coat and storming for the door. I wont live like that!
The front door slammed, and a ringing silence settled over the tiny tworoom flat. Marian sank into a chair, cradling her head. Every such argument drained the last of her energy. At fortyfive shed been shouldering everything for the past decade. Since Ianher husband and Poppys fatherhad left, taking only a pile of unpaid bills and a vague, Sorry, were strangers now, life turned into an endless survival race. Marian worked at the local library, took odd jobs typing up manuscripts at night, and gave up everything so Poppy would have what she needed.
All the while Sophie was there. Theyd sat together at school desks, brighteyed Sophie and quiet, homebound Marian. When the divorce hit, it was Sophie who pulled Marian out of the abyss, delivering groceries, dragging her out for walks, listening for hours to her sobs. Hang in there, Marianwell get through this, shed say, hugging her tight. Hell bite his elbows when he sees what hes lost.
Marian believed her. She brushed herself off and kept going, for her daughters sake. Sophie became almost family, a godmothertype to Poppy, the everunderstanding Aunt Sophie.
Marian sighed and walked to the window. The city lights twinkled in the dusk. Somewhere out there her angry daughter was probably roaming, most likely heading to Sophies cosy studio in central Bristol, where the air smells of expensive coffee and haircare luxuries, soft music drifts, and conversations drift to lofty art without a thought of the next utility bill.
The kitchen phone buzzed. Marian picked it up. A text from Sophie: Poppys with me. Dont worry, Ill talk to her. All will be well. A mix of irritation and gratitude flashed through Marian. Part of her was relieved Poppy was safe; another part bristled that Sophie was once again the peacemaker, as if Marian couldnt handle her own child.
She brewed a cheap teabag and sat down, eyes falling on an old framed photograph: the three of themher, Ian, and a tiny Poppy cradled in her armshappy and young. How long ago that was. Ian sometimes she could barely picture his face: tall, darkhaired, laugh lines around his eyes. He loved jazz, strong coffee, and travel books. He left one evening, suitcase in hand, saying he needed time alone. A week later he called, saying he wouldnt be coming back.
Sophies voice drifted in Marians memory, smoothing her shoulder, Hes a fool, Marian, just a fool. Youll meet someone better. But Marian never did. Her whole world revolved around her daughter.
The next few days passed in tense silence. Poppy slipped in from school, ate, then locked herself in her room. Marian didnt dare start a conversation, fearing another clash. On Saturday morning Sophie called.
Marian, love! Crisis at the salonhealthinspectors coming, and my cleaners ill. Can you help? Come over, give the place a tidy, and maybe you can patch things up with Poppy. She was about to pop round anyway.
Marian hesitated, feeling guilty and indebted, but the thought of finally talking to her daughter on neutral ground tipped the scales.
Ill be there in an hour, she said.
Sophies Cleopatra salon greeted her with glittering mirrors and a whiff of floral perfume. Sophie, impeccably dressed in a sharp trouser suit, met her at the entrance.
Marian, my lifesaver! she kissed Marian on the cheek. Quick change, then the job: dust the displays, mop the main floor. Ill handle the paperwork. Poppy will be here soon.
Marian changed into an old tee in the backroom and got to work. She didnt envy Sophies successSophie had earned every bit of it with grit. Yet standing amid the sparkle of the beauty kingdom made Marian feel her own instability even sharper.
She was just finishing the floor when Poppy stormed in, scowling at the sight of her mother wielding a mop.
Poppy, we need to talk, Marian whispered.
What? That I should ditch my dreams and go to some boring college?
No. About us.
Sophie emerged from her office, two phones in handher own and a clients left charging.
Ladies, no fighting! she chattered, flashing that disarming smile. Marian, dont be cross with her, shes just a kid with big ambitions. Poppy, mum only wants the best for you. How about we all have a cuppa? Ill brew your favourite with a dash of cinnamon.
She set the phones on the reception desk and disappeared into the staff room. Marian sighed. Nothing would work, she thought. Poppy buried herself in her phone. Marian glanced at the two devices; one screen lit up with a short message: Missing your coffee. I. and a tiny red heart.
Marians heart skipped. I. Ian? No, that didnt make sense. Sophied mentioned a fling with a complicated, divorced, interesting man, but could it be Ian? Millions of men with an I initial existed. She shook her head, trying to dismiss the absurd notion.
The conversation with Poppy never happened that day. They sipped coffee while Sophie babbled about new haircuts, Poppy gave halfhearted nods, and Marian sat in silence as an invisible wall grew taller between her and the people she loved. The text haunted her.
Later at home she dug out an old address book, found Ians number, long untouched. Hello, its me. How are you? she thought, then put the phone down.
A few days later Sophie invited them to the cinema. In the dim hall, a breezy romcom flicked across the screen while Marian kept an eye on Sophie, who occasionally typed on her phone, a familiar I. appearing in the recipient line.
After the film they slipped into a café.
Oh Marian, Im over the moon! Sophie gushed, stirring sugar into her tea. I think Im really in love. Hes reliable, smartlike a stone wall.
Were thrilled for you, Aunt Sophie, Poppy replied. Who is he? Do we know him?
No, love, Sophie blushed, looking away. He isnt from our circle. We met by chance; he just moved back to town after years up north.
Up north Ian had taken a flyinflyout job in Sheffield after the divorce. Marian recalled that from mutual friends. Coincidence? Too many coincidences. A shiver ran down Marians spine.
Whats his name? she asked, trying to sound casual.
Ian, Sophie answered flatly, then quickly changed tack. By the way, Poppy, theres an art school advertising a preparatory course. Want to try? Ill fund it.
Marians mind spun. Ian. It had to be true. Her best friend, the woman whod dried her tears, was now cosy with her exhusband. The picture of Sophie, once a comforting blur, sharpened into something grotesque. Sophies encouragement of Poppys lofty dreams suddenly looked like a strategy to win the daughter away from her.
Mum, whats happening? Poppys voice snapped Marian out of her stupor. You look pale.
Nothing, Marian croaked. Just a headache. Lets go home.
Back in their flat, Marian locked herself in the bathroom, turning the tap on so Poppy couldnt hear her sobs. The tears were bitter, searing. It wasnt just a betrayal by Ian; it was the sting of a friend whod been duped in the very same betrayal she had suffered. She wept for the friendship that had been trampled, for the naïveté that had kept her blind for ten years.
She knew she had to act, but not with a theatrical outburst. She would wait for undeniable proof.
A week later Sophies birthday arrived. She hosted a lavish dinner at a countryside restaurant and, of course, invited Marian and Poppy.
Please come, Marian! Ill introduce you to my Ian. Youll love him! Sophie chirped over the phone.
Marian felt a lump form in her throat.
Fine, Sophie. Well be there.
The day passed in a fog. She chose a dress, did her hair, applied makeup, and looked into the mirror at a stranger with feverbright eyes. Poppy, oblivious, flitted around, excited for the celebration.
The restaurant was opulentlive piano, whitedraped tables, welldressed guests. Sophie, radiant in a silver gown, flitted from guest to guest. Spotting them, she greeted them with gusto.
At last! Come in, dears! Marian, you look stunning! Ill now bring you Ian! Over here!
Ian, now older with silver at his temples, approached. He froze when he saw Marian, a flash of surprise, shame, and something like guilt crossing his face.
Marian? he whispered.
Good afternoon, Marian replied coolly, meeting his gaze.
Sophie looked between them, bewildered.
Are you two acquainted? she asked.
More than that, Marian smirked. Hes my exhusband. Poppys father.
A hush fell over the room. The music seemed to stop. All eyes were on the three of them. Sophie’s complexion went as white as a sheet. Poppys stare darted between her mother, Ian, and the aunt shed trusted, confusion written all over her face.
Mum, is this real? she whispered.
Yes, love. Hes your dad.
Marian stepped toward Sophie, who clutched Ians hand as if afraid he might vanish.
Happy birthday, dear, Marian said quietly but clearly. I thought we were friends. Turns out youve been consoling me while stealing what I lost. How easy was it to date my husband behind my back? To give me advice on betrayal while committing an even worse one?
Sophie stammered, I I didnt know how to say it. It just happened We met six months ago, he never mentioned
What? Hes your friends husband? Marian finished for her. I dont believe you. You knew everything.
She turned to Ian.
Youre nothing but a coward. You left one woman, ran to another. Nothing changes.
She took Poppys hand. The girls eyes were wide, brimming with tears.
Lets get out of here, love. This isnt our place.
They walked out, guests watching in stunned silence. At the doorway Marian glanced back. Sophie stood alone, baffled, while Ian stared at his shoes.
The ride home was quiet. In the flat Poppy broke down.
Mum, how could Aunt Sophie? And dad?
Marian held her, stroking her hair.
Shh, darling. People sometimes do terrible things, even those we love. What matters is weve still got each other.
That night they stayed at the kitchen table for hours. Marian spoke openly about her life with Ian, her friendship with Sophie, leaving nothing hidden. Poppy listened, her childish hurt giving way to a mature understanding.
The next day Sophie cut off contact. Marian ignored the flood of apologetic messages. A few days later Ian appeared at their door.
Marian, we need to talk, he said, eyes avoiding hers.
Theres nothing to discuss, she snapped. Leave.
But Poppyshes my daughter!
You only remembered that now? Ten years you didnt care. Go, Ian. Dont ever come back.
She slammed the door, leaned against it, heart poundingnot from pain, but from relief, as if a weight finally lifted.
Life went on, harder but honest. The void left by Sophie was hard to fill. Occasionally she reached for the phone, wanting to gossip with a friend, but she reminded herself there was no one left to call.
Her relationship with Poppy changed for the better. They grew closer than ever. Poppy matured overnight, stopped demanding the impossible, started helping around the house, and even earned a modest sideincome sketching portraits online.
One evening Poppy placed a small envelope on the table.
Here, Mum. Its for the prep course. I earned it myself.
Marian looked at her daughters serious, grownup face, tears welling.
Youre my pride, she whispered.
No, Mum, youre my pride, Poppy replied, hugging her tightly. Youre the strongest I know.
Marian held her daughter, realizing she hadnt lost everything. Shed lost a friend and a fantasy, but shed gained something far richerher childs respect and love. The road ahead would be tough, but together, mother and daughter would manage, hand in hand.
