**Diary Entry 15th May 2024**
*”So, a marriage certificate is still stronger than just shacking up, eh?”* The lads at work used to tease Nadine about it.
*”Im not going to the thirty-year reunionIll just end up depressed. Let the ones who go every year have their fun. They dont notice how much theyve changed,”* Nadine snapped into the phone when her only old friend, Margaret, rang.
*”Whats got you so worried? We saw each other five years ago, and you looked fine. Put on a bit of weight or something?”* Margaret sounded genuinely puzzled.
*”Thats not the point! I just dont want to go, all right? Drop it, Rita!”*
Nadine was ready to hang up, hoping Margaret would take the hint and move on down her list of invites. But this time, her friend clung like a limpet.
*”Nadine, our numbers are thinning as it is.”*
*”What, someones kicked the bucket?”* Nadine couldnt help a jolt of dread. She didnt consider herself *that* old yetnot so old that their lot should be dropping off already.
*”No, nothing like thatjust a few whove emigrated. The only one weve lost was Andrew Bush, twenty-five years back, barely out of uni. Ive told you before.”*
*”So stop being difficult! The whole years getting togetherfour groups, but only thirty or so in the end. You finally married off your son, didnt you? Perfect time to let your hair down.”*
Margaret prattled on, but Nadines mind drifted back to Andrew. Hed always had dark circles under his eyes, a haunted look, and the lads in their group had written him off as weak. Turned out, it was his heart that was weak. Hed been bright, dreaming of building a suspension bridge in his hometownbut never got the chance.
And what had *she* done with her life?
Fallen for Ian, a foreman on the construction site where shed worked after graduation. He was on rotation, vanishing home between shifts. Theyd dated for yearshed even called her his wife in front of everyone. *”A civil partnership proves real love,”* hed say. *”People stay together because they want to, not because of some piece of paper”*
Then she found out she was pregnantright as Ian failed to return from leave. Turned out he had three kids and an ill wife. Hed quit without a word.
Nadine couldnt bring herself to demand anything from a man with a sick wife and children. She left the job too, before anyone guessed. One of the lads had the last laugh, though: *”So, a marriage certificate *is* stronger than just shacking up?”*
She didnt care anymore. A neighbour got her a job at a corner shop near her flat. They agreed shed work two days a week, even after the baby came.
Her mother had grudgingly agreed to mind little Tim*”Since my daughters daft enough to throw away a good career!”*
*”You raised me this way!”* Nadine had shouted back once, when her mum pushed too far.
*”I hoped youd have more sense! I slaved to put you through uni, and you go and”*
*”Like mother, like daughter. What did you expect?”* The words slipped out, and she instantly regretted them. Theyd hugged and cried after, but what good did that do?
So when Margaret rang five years later for a reunion, Nadine didnt go. What was there to say? Theyd brag about families, careers, flash photoswhile she scrubbed floors in three different buildings.
Tim was her only joy.
Her mother, once he started nursery, declared her duty done and moved to her sisters village*”The city air doesnt agree with me.”*
Then, out of nowhere, luck turned. A part-time job in her field opened up just as Tim began school. She managed everything herself now, even fetching him from after-school club. Other mothers envied how devoted she was.
A colleague once tried to flirt, but she shut it down. *No strange men around my son.*
She worked hard, climbed to a full engineering post as Tim grew. But she still felt lesserdrab clothes, untouched hair, grey streaks after forty.
She didnt *deserve* happiness, not after what shed done. No bright colours, no drawing attentionlest someone look her way again.
And love? Shed stopped believing in happy endings. Half her peers were divorced; she was no better, maybe worse.
Yet Tim grew up grateful, unspoilt by her sacrifices. He spent summers helping his gran and great-aunt in the villagedigging plots, chopping wood, sealing jam jars.
*”A blessing, having a lad like him,”* her mother admitted eventually.
So what use were café reunions now?
All this flashed through Nadines mind in seconds before Margarets voice sharpened: *”Friday, three oclock, the café opposite the old halls. Come onIll have no one to talk to otherwise. Will you?”*
Something in Margarets tone cracked. Without knowing why, Nadine agreed.
She regretted it instantly. Staring in the mirror, she tried calling backbut the line stayed busy.
That evening, she dug out the blue dress Tim and his wife Natasha had forced on her for their wedding. Theyd dragged her shopping, badgered her into the salon. *”Mum, youre *beautiful*,”* theyd insisted.
A year on, the dress still hung unworn. Her roots showed. *Whos there to impress?*
Still, she styled her hair, dabbed on lipstick (then wiped it off*too bold*), and went.
The café was packed. Margaret spotted her instantly. *”Nadine! You look *stunning*!”*
Margaret had softened with age, but it suited her. They chatted awhile before music from their student days swelled. Nadine sipped juice, watching the room.
*”May I have this dance?”*
She looked up*Alex Sorrell*, from the parallel group. Married at twenty, a fleeting crush shed mourned.
*”Nadine, youre as lovely as ever. I barely recognise anyoneexcept you.”*
She let him lead her out, ignoring Margarets raised brows. They danced in silence until he asked: *”May I walk you home? Im divorced, but if you”*
*”No ones waiting,”* she admitted.
He walked her back. They met again the next dayand never parted after.
Natasha helped her pick a wedding dress, her belly already rounding. *”Youre *glowing*, Nadine,”* she whispered. *”Happiness isnt just for the young.”*
Sitting at the reception, Nadine finally believed it. She caught Alexs eye*Yes, perhaps now Im allowed.*
At last, she forgave herself.
And let happiness in.
