Alex Hines - Chance

‘Sorry, honey, I’m back,’ Ava’s reverie ended. ‘I was just calling for a catch up really, no big gossip. I know it’s easier to email, but I fancied a chat. Jake’s making a cake for the first time and I’m not allowed in the kitchen for another 40 minutes, apparently.’

‘Awwwww, sucks to be you!’ teased Ava. ‘But, um, is he by himself?’

‘Ha, yeah! I’ve just left him to it – Rich is upstairs on the Xbox.’

Their relationship, based on ridiculous teasing, had remained largely unchanged since college, which was exactly how Ava liked it.

‘Oh great, sounds wonderful – make sure he cleans up the knife drawer afterwards,’ she replied.

‘I’ve got Marcie on it now. For Mummy, it’s Wine Time.’

‘Tell me about it. What a day!’

Ava pictured Mel at home on her bright pink sofa. She knew she’d be wearing jeans, her Birkenstocks and a hoodie in an eye-wateringly bright colour, probably orange. Her dark hair, of which Ava had been so envious when they were flatmates in London, would be scraped back – the brief period of trying to blow dry it for work long over. Mel had always been scruffy in a sexy kind of way, so the mayhem of motherhood suited her. She was rarely any messier than before, but she was certainly not going to let impending middle age prevent her from dressing how she wanted. Nor was Ava, but whenever they spoke it crossed her mind that it was somehow more impressive that Mel was pulling off motherhood with such verve, especially as she still worked part time.

‘You okay, hon?’ began Mel.

‘Yeah, fine really,’ she muttered before beginning to explain Rob’s last-minute change of plan but she didn’t get very far without almost being able to hear Mel’s hackles rising all the way from London. She could sense her bristling at the mention of him failing to meet her exacting standards for what Ava’s boyfriend should be.

‘What a charming way to behave!’ observed Mel, dryly.

‘Yeah, it’s not ideal. Fridge scraps for me tonight. You’re the one with the kids, I’m the one with the lover and yet you’re at home with your feet up while I’m the one foraging for dinner. This is not what the lady mags tell me our roles are supposed to be.’

‘This turn of events is far from usual for either of us, at least you can console yourself with that.’

Certainly it was rare for Mel to sound so relaxed at this time in the evening, but Ava realised with a shiver that this wasn’t exactly the first time that Rob had flaked out on plans lately.

‘Yes, I suppose so.’ Ava bit her lip, thinking.

‘It is, isn’t it?’ Mel pounced on that small pause.

‘Yeah, yeah! Let’s put it this way, it’s certainly not something I’m used to or intend to put up with.’

‘Good! Getting used to it would be the worst of all.’

As the words were still leaving Mel’s mouth, Ava felt something unfurl within her: the realisation of her acceptance. She was getting used to this.

‘Anyway, let’s park Rob for a minute,’ Mel continued. ‘I’ve got a plan – and I want you to hear it.’

‘Oooh, go on!’

‘I’m going to apply for tickets to Strictly Come Dancing this year. We are going to do this …’

‘Oh wow, that’s given me the Summer Strictly Feeling.’

‘Eh?’

‘Sorry – it was Lauren who coined that term, not you. You know what I mean, though – end of the summer, nights are drawing in, you’re wondering if the diamante sandals you bought for summer are ever going to get used again this year but secretly, deep inside, you’re thirsting for Saturday nights curled up in front of the telly with a stew, instead of marinating chicken breasts in peri-peri sauce and chopping up endless feta for salads.’

‘Oh I HEAR you! I am dreading the day I have to accept that the kids will be back playing inside all day instead of using the garden but still … winter jumpers, new long boots and Strictly ?’

‘Exactly ! It’s so bittersweet. On the one hand, dark evenings coming up; on the other, dark evenings of Salsa and Waltzes.’

‘Oh goodness, you’ve got me all excited about it now. So – tickets?’

‘YES! I want to do this. How come we never thought of this before?’

‘You know how it is – new babies, new businesses, you leaving London and deserting me.’

‘I suppose. What made you think of it?’

‘Emma – she’s started taking Salsa classes.’

Ava snorted with laughter. Emma was a particularly pushy mum who lived on Mel’s street – albeit the ‘smarter’ side, as she was always quick to remind her. She had two children the same age as Jake and Marcie, and felt very strongly that Mel would be quite unable to cope without her peerless and never-ending stream of advice. It was always delivered in a stage whisper, with a dead-eyed smile, while Emma’s children slept angelically in their expensive double buggy and Mel’s threw their shoes – and socks – into the hedge. From breast feeding to violent video games and even as far as how to ‘keep the spark alive’ between herself and Rich, Emma’s advice was a constant source of both fury and hilarity to Mel and Ava.

‘Wow! Emma. At Salsa classes.’

‘I know .’

‘That, I simply cannot imagine. Where is she doing it?’

‘Same place as I do Pilates!’

‘How do you know?’

‘She took me aside to tell me in her special whisper – some things never change. I was in the supermarket car park, trying to get everything in the boot and she came over and announced it, as is her way.’

‘Well I never!’

‘I know , I thought I was about to be given a lecture on how spending too much time on Angry Birds had a 72% chance of Jake being a crack addict by the age of 13, but no – she wanted to talk Salsa.’

‘So what did she actually say?’

‘She decided it was going to be a good way to keep fit during the winter, when the outdoor tennis courts are closed. Remember, she gets bored terribly easily because of her fierce intellect, so the gym – or running around after her children like a normal person – just isn’t enough stimulation for her. She says the instructor is very respectful and he’s called Damiano. And you know what?’

‘What ? She’s run off with him?’

‘No ! It was the first time she has ever not bragged. She wasn’t telling me in a “Now you must do this because guess what, I’ve just raised the bar in the being-as-good-as-me stakes”, she just seemed to be enthusing about it. I was braced for the “fierce intellect” nonsense, but this time she managed to keep it all in. She says she now has a different relationship with her body – she feels more free!’

‘I don’t know what to say. I want to take the mickey but it sounds kind of sweet.’ ‘Yes, it was. For the first time, she seemed … happy.’

‘Wonders will never cease.’

‘And that, my friend, is why we must make sure we sort ourselves out with tickets this year. I’ve got the link to the website, and I’m poised like a cat, ready to pounce into action to apply. My children will be playing with knives behind my back as I sit there clicking “refresh”. Can’t wait! Apparently they allocate for the whole series in one go and we just have to wait and see which show we get tickets for. So exciting!’

‘That would be great. Not the knives bit, please – I love those kids. But imagine if we got them. I could get Matt to look after the shop for me and make a proper weekend of it – leave Rob to his squash games, and come and see you and the kids for a while.’

‘I’d love that, it’s been too long to be left with only Emma for company.’