The Wild Girls Read online

  Grace looks a bit tired, if Alice is being completely honest. She’s got lots of make-up on, a bit too much, and her smile looks strained. She’s wearing a long, knitted dress and little black heeled boots, which isn’t what Alice would really call travelling gear but each to their own.

  Alice can tell that Grace feels odd being the last one to join the group, but she quickly pushes the worried expression off her face and Alice stands up to hug her, wrapping her arms tightly around her in the way she did with Hannah. Grace feels thin, a little bit too thin, and Alice can almost feel the nerves radiating through her body.

  ‘Grace,’ she says, ‘we were worried you weren’t coming.’

  Hannah smiles at her; Alice can tell the champers has already gone to her head a little. She always was a bit of a lightweight and Alice is guessing she hasn’t had a drink for a while if the baby’s still only small. What was its name? Miles? She must remember by the time they get on the plane, especially if they’re sitting together.

  That’s a thought.

  ‘What seats are you both in?’ Alice asks them, and Grace checks her phone.

  ‘26C. You?’

  It turns out that Hannah and Alice are sitting together, 19B and 19C, and Grace is further back on her own.

  ‘Ugh, that’s a pain,’ Alice says, ‘maybe we could ask someone to swap?’ – but Grace shakes her head and says it doesn’t matter. By the expression on her face though, it looks like it does.

  The three of them sit in a row around the curved bar, and Alice can tell Grace is anxious. She feels bad for her, she’s always been such a nervy person, and so when neither of them are looking she reaches into her handbag, her fingers finding the familiar silver foil packet, and slips a tablet into the remains of Grace’s drink. Nothing bad, of course – only a little something to help her chill out a bit. Alice takes one every time she flies, just to relax herself, and it looks like Grace could use the same. Not that she or Tom have flown for ages – they can’t afford it anymore. Speaking of, the champagne bill probably isn’t going to be cheap.

  ‘I’ll get these, shall I?’ Alice says, but on cue, Hannah shakes her head, pulls out her credit card like Alice knew she would if she offered first.

  ‘No, no, this was my idea, I got here first. I’ll get them.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Alice says, relieved, and Grace looks embarrassed, but Hannah nods and smiles at the barman as he brings over the card machine.

  Some people never change, after all. Alice thinks of Tom, their Valentine’s dinner, and feels her stomach curl. Now who’s predictable?

  In the end, they are the last ones to join the queue for their flight. Hannah and Grace have become a bit giggly, and Alice almost wishes she was the one with a seat to herself on the plane. She texts Tom, sending him a photo of the plane on the runway, stark against the grey English sky, and it’s a few minutes before he replies. She fiddles with her phone, pretending to herself that she doesn’t care, but when his reply does ping through, she feels a whoosh of relief.

  Have a safe flight, he says, and come back soon. Xx

  Just enough, Alice thinks, just enough to show her that he does still care. That’s how they always play it, she and Tom – there’s always just enough to keep her holding on, to keep her coming back for more. Sometimes, Alice wonders how things would be now if she’d left Tom that night two years ago, or if he hadn’t come to join them at all. She wonders what might have happened if they hadn’t all stopped seeing each other, if she’d told the girls the truth about their relationship and let their little support network curl around her, protecting her. Alice pushes the thought from her head, reapplies her lip balm. There’s no point thinking like that – what’s done is done. They’ve bought the flat – they’re in it for the long haul, now. She fights how claustrophobic that sentence makes her feel and focuses on the present, on the line of people in front of them, all of them double-checking their passports and fiddling with their phones, heads down and robotic.

  Alice thinks about work as they board the flight, of what she’d be doing now if she wasn’t here. The school weren’t particularly happy when she announced that she needed the time off, but Alice had pretended her father was ill, said she was heading home to Cornwall to make sure he was all right. Nobody could really argue with that. Besides, she thinks to herself as they shuffle through the narrow aisle of the aeroplane, doesn’t she deserve a few days off? She works hard at her job; she’s good at it. St Hilda’s isn’t an easy school; they don’t have a great reputation. They need people like Alice to show up and do the work – and most of the time, she does. But everyone needs to relax every now and then, and without Felicity’s generosity, there’s no way she’d ever be able to go on a holiday like this. The trip of a lifetime. She’s going to make sure of it.

  No matter what.

  Hannah and Alice tell Grace they’ll see her on the other side and make their way to row 19. They are next to a man on his own – he’s quite good-looking actually, and Alice nudges Hannah and pulls a silly face, like she would if they were twenty-five again. Hannah snorts with laughter, and Alice notices her licking her lips a bit, combing a hand through the ends of her hair. She needs a trim; too many split ends. Some highlights wouldn’t go amiss either.

  Alice wonders what Chris is like now. She never used to get much out of him – always thought he was so corporate. A bit boring, if she is really honest. But still, Hannah seems happy. Relatively so, anyway. Certainly happier than the last time Alice saw her, but after all, that’s not saying much.

  Hannah was in a terrible mood that night.

  They order gin and tonics as the plane takes off, and Alice pops a tablet on the edge of her tongue to try to drown out the whirr of the plane. She wants to be able to get some sleep – wake up feeling refreshed and ready to see Felicity and whoever else is there. Hannah pulls a guidebook out of her bag and Alice has to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

  ‘Do you think we’re going to get much time for sightseeing?’ she asks her, and Hannah shrugs, not picking up on Alice’s sarcastic tone.

  ‘Well, wouldn’t you like to, a bit? Do you not think Felicity will let us?’

  Alice laughs. ‘She’s not a gaoler. I just think the party will be the focus, you know. And we’re not here for that long – only a long weekend. Four days.’

  ‘I’d like to see the animals, though. Wouldn’t you? I’ve always wanted to go on safari. It’s exciting.’

  ‘Well, we’re not actually going on safari, are we? We’re just staying in the lodge. Which looks phenomenal, don’t you think? How can she afford it all? God, I’m so jealous.’

  The words are out before Alice can stop them, the gin loosening her tongue. She didn’t mean to admit that.

  ‘Nathaniel used to make a lot, too,’ Hannah replies, not seeming to notice. ‘Remember, his hospital used to pay for his apartment, in London? He was in the private sector. She probably got used to a certain kind of lifestyle, even afterwards. I doubt she’s dealing with the kind of mortgages we have.’

  At the word, Alice feels the gin swirl in her stomach. She doesn’t want to think about their mortgage right now. She doesn’t want to think about how really, she shouldn’t even be ordering a £6 gin and tonic when there is so much money going out of her account and so little coming in. She wonders how much Hannah earns these days. She must be on statutory pay if she’s on maternity leave, surely, but as a lawyer Chris probably earns a packet. Being corporate and boring does have its upsides.

  ‘Have you bought Flick a present?’ Alice says, and Hannah nods.

  ‘I was early to the airport so I got her a little something. Just earrings – nothing huge. And a card. It is her birthday, after all.’

  ‘Of course,’ Alice says, her mind whirring. Maybe she could get her something from the plane? One of those duty-free things. Perfume. That would look a bit shit to Hannah and Grace, though. More proof that she’s a bad friend.

  Not that the evidence isn’t already o
ut there, just waiting to be found. But Alice doesn’t want to think about that. There is no point in torturing herself.

  She can feel herself getting a bit sleepy, so she yawns and tells Hannah that she might close her eyes. Hannah seems happy with this – a chance for her to get back to the guidebook – so Alice leans back in her seat and lets the tablet work its magic. She’ll think about the lack of a present later. For now, she just wants to relax.

  Chapter Five

  In transit: London to Botswana

  Grace

  I know I shouldn’t care that they’re sitting together but I do. I know it can’t be intentional, that Felicity just booked all our flights at once and that they’ll have been randomly assigned, but somehow this isn’t the way I wanted this trip to start. I’ve already been last to the airport, now I’m separated from them again on the plane. It feels as though a barrier has come up, as if events are conspiring to keep me apart from the others. It’s typical, really; I’ve spent so long keeping myself apart from the world, and now that I want in, I’m being shut out.

  It’s not a big deal, I tell myself, the main thing is that we’re all here, we’re together, and so far everything has been fine. It was a tiny bit awkward when I first saw them – it almost looked like they were holding hands at the champagne bar, but I think I must have imagined it – and by the time we boarded the plane it almost felt like we were back to our old selves. I’m not naive enough to think that everything will have been forgotten, but as always, Felicity’s positivity and her enthusiasm – her photos, the messages, everything – have ignited something within the rest of us, a friendship that has been lying dormant for the last two years.

  Sometimes I wish I was the kind of person who had the ability to do that for others – make them feel wanted, special. I don’t think I inspire that in anybody.

  As the plane ascends through the clouds, though, I start to think properly. Light filters through the window, yellow tinged with pink, falling on the little tray in front of me, a gentle kind of magic. I need to make plans. I need to use this trip as a chance to change direction, to alter the way my life is turning out. I’m only thirty, after all; there’s still time. I could move house when we get back, see about finding some new flatmates. Stop enduring Rosie and Ben’s excruciating mockery of me. Go back on the dating apps, even – try to meet someone new and forget about the past. What would Felicity do? I think to myself, but it’s hard to conjure up the image of her now, and my mind feels as though the edges are becoming a bit blurry. It must be the champagne, although I didn’t actually have that much – not as much as Hannah and Alice. There’s a couple next to me, probably in about their forties, and they smile sympathetically when I inadvertently let out a huge yawn.

  Embarrassed, I stifle it with my hand, but the man grins at me.

  ‘Try and catch some sleep now if I were you,’ he says, with a warm accent. ‘I’m jealous – I can never sleep while I’m travelling.’

  ‘Neither can I, usually,’ I say, which is true, but gosh, I do feel weirdly tired now. Exhaustion threatens to overwhelm me, and I smile at the couple and let myself sink back in the seat. It’s not very comfortable, but I can’t seem to care – I feel as though I’m floating upwards, as the lights on the plane flicker on and off, and the low hum of the couple’s chatter fades into nothingness. Then, everything goes black.

  Hannah

  Alice is asleep, and when Hannah gets up to go to the bathroom she notices that seven rows behind them, Grace is too. She looks much younger in her sleep, innocent somehow, and Hannah has a sudden urge to get her a blanket, wrap it around her and make sure she’s comfortable, like she used to do if Grace was hungover when they were teenagers. Hannah used to like taking care of people, making herself feel useful, but now that that’s her sole purpose in life with Max she resents it a lot more than she did before. Why is that? What’s wrong with her? When she had first started going to NCT classes, some of the other women said they were worried about being mums – but now that they all are, they universally appear to be loving it, according to the endless Instagram pictures and gloating Facebook updates. How can Hannah admit to them that sometimes she has her doubts? The simple answer is that she can’t. Not after everything she went through – she has to be grateful for Max. To not be would be shameful, a disgrace. She knows that.

  But maybe she could talk to the girls, to Alice and Grace at least – maybe they are the ones who might understand. Hannah feels a flicker of hope in her chest at the thought of unburdening herself, of being honest for once. The four of them always used to understand everything about each other – until they didn’t anymore. The last time Hannah told anyone how she felt, it didn’t end well. Does she really want to run that risk again?

  When she gets back to her seat, she feels guilty for having these kind of thoughts about motherhood and so she pulls out her phone, flicks through the photos of Max. Hannah took a selfie of them together the other day, pushing her face up close next to his, breathing in his baby smell as she smiled and pressed the button to capture the image. She even thought about posting it to Instagram, but then she looked at it properly and the idea of strangers on the internet seeing it made her want to gouge her eyes out. She looked dreadful – there was no way anyone could see it. She looked nothing like the insta-mums that clog up her feed – they may as well have been a completely different species. Hannah ended up deleting that photo altogether – Chris always says she shouldn’t keep things that make her feel bad about herself. He used to say that about the girls, actually, especially in the weeks and months after Felicity left, when Hannah kept trying to get in touch – that if they were no longer making her feel good, she ought to cut the friendships off. In the end, that is what happened, but it wasn’t really her choice.

  Hannah steals a glance at Alice as she sleeps. Her long dark hair has slipped out of her ponytail and is falling down her shoulder, almost brushing Hannah’s arm. She thinks about reaching out and touching it, but she doesn’t want to wake her. Hannah closes her own eyes, hoping to get some sleep herself – there are still hours of the flight left to go. It’s ironic, really – she spends the majority of her life longing for a bit of time to herself, desperate for an unbroken night’s sleep, one in which Max doesn’t wake her up crying, but now that she is thousands of miles away from her baby she finds she cannot sleep at all. Her mouth feels stale, and her legs ache from being sedentary for so long.

  Instead, Hannah thinks about Felicity. She imagines her preparing for the birthday party. If Hannah knows Flick, it’ll be a fairly lavish affair. She has brought a selection of dresses – black if it’s really formal, a bold printed maxi-dress if they’re all going colourful, and a jumpsuit which she already knows she won’t have the courage to wear. Oh, and she has also brought her Spanx, because she can almost guarantee that none of Felicity’s other friends will have had children, and even if they have, they’ll be the glossy insta-mum type that they’ve already established Hannah has no hope of ever being. If Felicity is single again, she’ll be going all out with her appearance, too. Or perhaps she’ll have a surprise for them, some new American beau. Hannah smiles to herself at the thought. That would be typical Felicity.

  She is about to start having a look through the in-flight entertainment to see if there’s anything she can relax with that isn’t Peppa Pig for a change when the seatbelt lights come on and the flight attendant’s voice comes over the tannoy.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, we may experience a little bit of turbulence over the next twenty minutes or so, and the pilot has advised that you fasten your seatbelts and do not get up from your seats until the seatbelt lights go off. Thank you for your cooperation.’

  No sooner has she finished speaking than the plane gives a big jolt and Hannah is swung sideways, hard into Alice’s shoulder.

  ‘Sorry,’ she says, but to Hannah’s surprise Alice doesn’t stir. Hannah notices the man next to them looking at her, too, and he catches her eye and smiles.


  ‘Your friend’s a good sleeper, eh?’

  ‘So it seems,’ Hannah says, feeling oddly put out that Alice can sleep peacefully through this turbulence whilst she has to endure it. She glances at her watch – thinking about the time in the UK: Max will be wanting a feed and beginning to grizzle. She wonders what he and Chris are doing, and how many times Chris has phoned his mother. Hannah knows Jean thinks she is the devil incarnate for going on holiday – her most recent card implied as much. The inside was quite a contrast to the flowers on the front.

  The plane bumps again and Hannah’s stomach clenches – she has never liked turbulence, although she knows it’s harmless, she’s read all the articles. From what she can remember, Grace hates it – though they’ve actually never been on a plane together before, but she told Hannah about the university ski trip where she vomited in a paper bag. Hannah hopes Grace is all right. She twists her neck, trying to crane her head backwards to see whether she’s still asleep too – she can’t imagine she is – but the plane gives another shudder and she is forced to turn back around.

  ‘What brings you to Africa?’ the guy next to Hannah says, perhaps noticing her anxiety and trying to distract her, and she tells him the truth: a birthday party.

  The words sound a bit childish when she says them like that, but he chuckles. He has got a nice face, actually, Alice was right – his eyes crinkle at the sides when he laughs, and he’s got the kind of sandy-coloured hair that makes you think of beaches and surfing and warm fish and chips.

  ‘You?’ Hannah asks him, and he tells her a mate of his has started a company there, and is trying to persuade him to invest.