Chapter 7
CARRIE
The May bank holiday seemed a long time ago, even though it was only a matter of days.
Carrie had a rare night off and had gone into Stockport to do some late-night Friday shopping.
For the trip she was going to take, following the decision she’d made, one month ago, to sell her whole life, clothes and all.
It had taken a week for the idea to sink in and, day by day, she became more convinced that leaving Reddish behind was the solution to her problems. Then Carrie cracked on with making it happen, sorting through the clutter in her house and dealing with admin such as cancelling subscriptions and the insurance on her car, and informing the GP surgery.
However, she still wasn’t sure where she was going and needed to decide quick smart, because the newspaper had put her ad in a month earlier than expected.
She only had to give Jez one month’s notice, but hadn’t told him yet she was leaving, or asked about the job trial, expecting the ad to appear in the June issue.
And, if she were honest, Carrie couldn’t face it.
Jez had been the best boss. She didn’t want to disappoint him.
Equally bad, she still hadn’t asked her friends if they’d meet the person who’d buy her life – if anyone did.
She’d submitted the ad in good time, wanting to guarantee a place in the June edition, with the paper’s reassurance that the wording could be changed, as long as she gave them at least two weeks’ notice before publication week – that is, if Jez or her friends didn’t agree to her requests.
But neither Ariana nor Rae had said yes to meeting up when she’d texted.
Instead, both talked about needing space, but that they were there for her if she wanted to talk about her mum.
A niggle grew inside Carrie. She hadn’t exactly apologised to them, having simply texted back that it was a fuss over nothing, and couldn’t they forget their disagreement?
Their criticism still stung. Then, in a panic this week, when she’d noticed that the ad had already gone live, Carrie had actually rung Ariana and left a message saying she was leaving the country and needed to see them beforehand, over something important.
Clearly shocked at the news, Ariana had texted back straightaway and agreed to ask Rae if she’d meet up with Carrie.
The three of them were due to meet in ten minutes’ time, in a bar near the cinema complex.
Carrie didn’t know if either of them would turn up.
Fingers crossed.
Her laidback landlord, Geoff, had inherited the house from his uncle.
Carrie had a rolling contract but he was happy to take on a new client if their references held up and the deposit was paid.
And she’d had legal advice from a customer at The Niterie, having helped her out one night after too many drinks, a couple of years ago.
The woman, Nessa, hadn’t eaten and had drunk most of a fishbowl cocktail by herself.
Carrie found her slumped on the floor in the toilets.
She’d listened to the slurred words about how Nessa hated her life as a lawyer for an estate agent that sold luxury homes; she’d stayed up all night with her, talking things through, pouring coffee.
Now Nessa was a hands-on lawyer for a homeless charity, going out on the streets at night with her team, handing out advice and food to rough sleepers.
Nessa loved her new career and was forever grateful for Carrie helping her crystallise, in her mind, what she had to do.
They met for the occasional coffee and Nessa was the first person Carrie thought of to advise her on the legal side of her ad.
Nessa had offered to draw up a basic contract and overlook Carrie’s sale.
She also refined the wording of the advert and suggested she be the first point of contact.
Nessa loved the whole life-sale concept.
Having her on board had given Carrie the confidence to go ahead and it also reminded her that change was possible; that change could be amazing.
Between them they added up the value of everything included in the deal and decided three thousand pounds was a fair figure.
Carrie walked past two young men vaping and pushed open the glass doors of the bar.
It used to be a favourite of the three friends, with richly coloured framed oil paintings on the walls, and a cosy vibe due to the comfortable furniture and Tuscan vibes of gold, red and olive-green tones.
She went to the bar, ordered a lager, and took it to one of the tables.
Carrie put down her rucksack, collapsed into a seat and breathed in the smell of chips and beer.
Her friends were fifteen minutes late. She deserved that. Fifteen minutes turned into twenty, turned into… Thank God! They appeared, holding drinks, and sat down.
‘Hi, Carrie,’ said Ariana.
Rae gave a small smile.
Ariana sipped her gin and tonic. Full-fat tonic, no ice because it made her stomach ache, no lemon because her dentist once told her it eroded enamel.
Now Mum had gone, Carrie knew the finer details of only these two women’s lives, of no one else’s, apart from Boo’s.
He turned his nose up at expensive cat food, preferring slugs – disgusting and, according to the vet, hazardous due to parasites.
She’d been in denial about leaving Boo behind, and her priority, she’d told Nessa, would be finding a new tenant who loved cats.
She’d also had a clause slipped into the contract that monthly text updates about him, including photos, must be sent to Carrie.
And Nessa had promised to call by the house randomly, after the first month, to see how he was doing.
Carrie had also been in denial about selling her car.
It was old, stalled occasionally and some might say could have done with a re-spray, but it had belonged to her mum and when Carrie was older, they’d shared it.
For years Carrie had longed to drive a more modern model, but when her mum died, she hadn’t had the heart to get rid of it.
‘Thanks for coming,’ said Carrie, and she gave a nervous smile. ‘How are you both doing?’
‘Not bad,’ said Ariana, taking off her jacket.
‘Okay, thanks,’ said Rae. ‘Work, eat, sleep, repeat. You know what it’s like. Ariana told me that you rang and left a message on her phone saying you’re moving abroad?’
‘Where to?’ asked Ariana. ‘This is massive. You’ve decided so quickly.’
Rae’s brow furrowed. ‘Have you really thought it through? It’s not a knee-jerk reaction?’
Carrie’s ears felt hot. ‘Don’t worry about me.’ I’m an influencer with thousands of followers; people aspire to follow the life I lead…
Except you don’t really lead it, do you?
Carrie pushed that thought away. ‘I’ve yet to choose the destination.’
‘What? Right. So is it actually happening or just an idea?’ asked Rae in a puzzled tone.
‘Why exactly did you want to meet up, Carrie?’ said Ariana. ‘Is it really about something else?’
‘I messed up, okay,’ she replied quietly. ‘I didn’t mean what I said just before I left The Niterie.’
‘Those sentiments must have come from somewhere,’ said Rae, fiddling with her leather bracelet.
Carrie couldn’t tell them the truth – that embarrassment had been at the root, along with… jealousy. She didn’t begrudge her friends their lovely family times but now and then – often – life felt so unfair.
The three of them sat sipping their drinks, surrounded by laughter and chat, background music and glasses clinking, contrasting with the silence at their table.
‘I am moving,’ she said finally. ‘What’s more, I’ve put my life up for sale. Remember that article I once told you about?’
Ariana frowned. ‘The guy who put his whole life on eBay? House, car, belongings, job and…’
‘The deal included an introduction to his friends.’ Rae frowned. ‘Oh, wow. So this meet-up is really to ask us if we’d be up for that, to ask us for a favour? After accusing us of photoshopping you out of our lives when we met up with family?’
‘It’s not like that. Let me explain,’ said Carrie. ‘I was going to ask you all before the ad went out but—’
‘You’ve already published an ad?’ asked Ariana, wide-eyed. ‘Are you kidding? Where?’
A tide of crimson rose up Carrie’s neck. ‘In the local newspaper, I—’
Rae got up. ‘Look, Carrie… I’m sorry about your mum, you know that, and how hard it’s been for you.
But this is all too much. Having a secret life, accusing us of being tone-deaf to the fact that you’re on your own now…
You remember me telling you about that pregnancy scare?
From a stupid one-night stand after too many fruit ciders?
I didn’t even tell my mum. That’s how much I trust you two. I thought that trust was mutual.’
Ariana stood up too. ‘I hope it works out the way you want. If you change your mind and stick around, we… we’re here for you.’ She glanced at Rae who pursed her lips and nodded. ‘Think about delaying the move, if nothing else. Maybe get some therapy?’
‘There’s no shame in it,’ said Rae. ‘My neighbour’s seeing someone to help him through a recent break-up.’
With that they left, no hugs, no bon voyage, simply sad looks.
Carrie sat finishing her drink. One minute.
Two minutes. Her chair scraped across the floor as she got up and hurried after them.
She then ran ahead of them in the street, her ponytail swinging from side to side.
Carrie turned around, blocking their way on the pavement.
‘It was a mistake! I’d said for it to go in the June issue. That gave me more time to ask you, and I had an agreement with the paper that I could change the wording if needs be, if you said no. And… and I’d understand, I would. It’s an unusual request. But now… now it’s too late.’ Her voice shook.
Ariana glanced at Carrie’s face, hesitated and tugged at Rae’s elbow. ‘Where’s the harm in us meeting the person who buys Carrie’s life? It’s only an introduction. They may not know a soul in the area. Call it an act of kindness. We’re up for that, aren’t we?’
Rae sighed. ‘Guess someone’s own life has to be garbage if they want to buy someone else’s. Unless they’re an out-and-out weirdo or an axe murderer.’
‘Or perhaps they are simply lonely, like we used to be before we found one another,’ said Ariana.
Carrie wanted to give Ariana a hug but knew it wouldn’t be welcome.
‘Okay,’ said Rae. ‘But we’ll need an introductory letter from the person first, and if we don’t like the sound of them we won’t be meeting up… Agreed?’ She raised an eyebrow at Ariana, who nodded. Rae turned to Carrie. ‘You could forward their application to us.’
Ariana and Rae said goodbye and continued up the street. Ariana glanced over her shoulder for a fleeting second. Carrie gave her a little wave. Ariana gave a nod and turned away. Carrie walked towards the bus stop, past a drunk young couple snogging, no longer in the mood for shopping.
Boy, did she need to get away.
From Reddish. From Stockport. From the UK. From Mum’s grave, and distant friends, from a job going nowhere and stressful bills. To sunnier climes; yes, that was it, Carrie would head off to some beach and sunbathe her unhappiness away – and lead a glamorous life for real!
She didn’t need Ariana, didn’t need Rae, not if they found it so hard to get past one silly mistake.
But it was a big one. You hurt their feelings; you cut them out, whispered a voice in her head, a voice she kicked away when her foot booted an empty crisp bag on the tarmac.
The shiny bag caught the night breeze, wafting through the air, light and carefree.
That’s what Carrie would be like once she’d shed everything about her life in the UK.
She reached the bus stop and her phone vibrated. Carrie took it out of her jeans pocket. A message from Nessa.
Five people have emailed in! They all want to buy your life! Ring me ASAP!