Best friend turned out to be a traitor
16th February
Oh, dont start, my friend rolled her eyes at me. Youre always getting upset over nothing, Emily. We live in different worlds now. You have to accept that.
Youve got your business, Ive got mine. Besides, were not on the same level anymore. I cant let just anybody into my home.
Anybody? My throat tightened at her words. Am I just anybody now?
Sophie, how can you say that? I sewed you curtains from my old drapes for your flat when you had nothing to eat! I picked your kids up from school for three years straight!
And? Am I supposed to get down on my knees with gratitude for that? Sophies voice turned cold.
I was stunned. Nearly thirty years of friendship, and now this
Later, I found a flat, grey button in the pocket of my old spring coata four-hole one. Instantly, I remembered sewing on an identical button for Sophie fifteen years ago. Our daughters were darting about in the courtyard while she and I sat on the bench, and she wept about her husband who had spent all their savings at the pub, again.
I simply took needle and thread out of my bag, stitched on that stubborn button, then pressed a crumpled £10 note into her palm.
Take it, Id said. Its for milk for the kids. Pay me back whenever you can.
Of course she never didneither then, nor a year later. But I hadn’t cared. For a friend who was like family, I didnt mind.
Wed weathered so much together: nits at summer camp, endless wallpapering in her battered flat after shed finally kicked out her hopeless husband. Id bring round pots of stew when she was running herself ragged with two jobs, trying to pay off her debts.
Youre my guardian angel, Em, Sophie would say, wiping tears with a greasy tea towel. Without you, Id be homeless.
Youll see, Ill sort myself out. Ill pay you back, all of it. Take you on a world cruise, I swear!
I always just laughed, topping up her tea. A cruise! We were barely scraping by until payday.
The changes crept in slow. At first, Sophie landed a dodgy job at some property sales company. Her phone calls grew curt. She started saying, Im busy.
Sophie, will you pop by tomorrow? Id asked once. Ive baked those pasties you love, with cabbage.
Oh Em, what pasties? came her reply. Ive got a deal closing. And I dont eat all that now, far too much gluten.
And Im at the gym these days. Maybe another time.
That another time never came.
Six months down the line, Sophie bought herself a massive shiny carlike a tank, barely fitting in her old street.
She swung by to show off, but didnt bother getting out. She just lowered her window, adjusted her sunglasses, and tapped the leather seat.
Look, Em. All the bells and whistles. Not like your noisy old banger.
I stroked the cold metal. Im happy for you, Soph. Truly. Shall we have a cuppa to celebrate?
Cant, Sophie checked her watch. Im off for a manicure in town. Theyre strict with timings.
I watched her drive away, feelinghonestly? Not jealous, but as if an invisible glass wall had sprung up between us.
Soon after, Sophie started building a househer residence, she called it. Photos flooded my phone: the foundations poured, panoramic windows being delivered, the designer holding up tiles, each costing more than my monthly wage.
Come round, have a look! she messaged.
But anytime I suggested a date, there was always an excuse: the builders were in, she was out buying things, or she had a headache.
Then, just before her birthday, I bought her a beautiful linen tablecloth for her new home and decided to drop by unannounced. Id seen her post on social mediapeaceful morning in the new placeso I knew she was in.
The fence was over two metres tall, exactly as youd expect: heavy iron gates, a video intercom. I pressed the bell.
Yes? her voice came over the speaker.
Soph, its me. I was passing by, brought you a gift a tablecloth, linen, your favourite.
I heard footsteps crunching the gravel behind the gate. The heavy door opened just enough for Sophie to poke out her headsilk robe, hair perfectly set. I thought: how does she always look so put together? Behind her, an immaculate lawn and the smart house.
Sophie didnt step back to let me in. She just stood there in the gap.
Hi, Em, she greeted me carelessly. Whats up? Need something?
Id frozen in the doorway. Thirty years of friendship had collapsed into this short, businesslike exchange.
No, nothings wrong, Soph… Just dropped by. Brought you a gift. Thought we could have a cuppa, you could show me the house youve been talking about and sending so many photos of
She didnt even glance at the bag.
Em, its just not a good time. Cleaners round, expecting important guests later The place is brand new, you see. Wouldnt want anything damaged or muddy. Your shoes are filthy, honestly
Did you walk here? Wheres that rusty old car of yours? Broken down at last? Look, just hand me the bag, Ill unbox the cloth myself and maybe call you sometime.
She reached for the bag but I instinctively hugged it to my chest.
Important guests? I echoed quietly. So Imwhat? Not even a guest?
Oh, youre always so sensitive, Sophie scoffed, waving a hand. Going to bring up old times again, how you helped me back then?
I am grateful, Em. Really, I am. But that was ages ago! Things have changed. Ive made something of myselfon my own.
On your own? I gave a dry laugh. Right. Of course.
Yes! And I dont want the past dragging me down. What are you still standing here for? Giving me the gift or what? Im busy.
I looked at herso unfamiliar. Smooth face, frosty look, manicured hands.
Where was the Sophie whod split a chocolate bar with me as children, who promised wed be friends all our lives?
You know what, Soph? I set the bag down on the gravel at her feet. Dont bother calling. Do what you want with the clothwipe up spills or roll it out for your important guests.’
Good, she muttered. You always make such a drama out of everything.
The gate slammed shut with a hard clang. I was left staring at the blank wall, listening to her footsteps receding.
I plodded back to my battered car, legs like jelly. I sat behind the wheel and caught sight of a childs football on the back seatprobably left by my grandson.
I wiped away some sudden tears, started the engine, and drove home.
***
Three months passed. My life ticked on as ever: work, home, the garden on weekends.
I blocked Sophies numbernot from anger, but to stop myself checking if shed messaged, which she never did.
Then, late autumn, everything changed.
I was peeling potatoes in my kitchen when the doorbell rang. Wiping my hands, I peered through the peephole. There was Sophie.
But not Sophie the queen. She looked worn out, older, mascara streaked, hair in tangles, coat flapping open, hands trembling.
I opened the door.
Em Sophie clutched the frame. Please, let me in
I stood in the doorway, blocking her just as shed once blocked me.
Whats happened? I asked, evenly. What do you need?
She winced hearing her own words parroted back. She covered her face and sobbedloudly, wretchedly, like she had fifteen years ago.
Em, Im in a mess I sold my flat to pour everything into the house. But the land was never properly registered. Falsified signatures, now investigations! Everythings frozenthe accounts, the car
They threw me out today. Told me to leave. All my important guestsgone, no one picks up.
Ive nowhere to go Even the kids dont want me
Silently, I listened. I feltnothing. No satisfaction, no pity. Just empty.
What do you want from me, Soph? I cocked my head. Were not on the same level, remember? My flats modest, dusty in places. Not your style.
Forgive me! Sophie slid to her knees on the worn doormat. Ive been such a fool! Got a big head. Youre my only real friend Please, remember how we used to wash the girls hair with Dettol?
I remember, I nodded. I remember sewing buttons on for you, and you shutting me out from your house because I was just anybody. You called me a shadow from the past.
I didnt mean it! I just Sophie broke into noisy sobs. Em, let me stayeven just for tonight! Its freezing
I glanced outsidedusk falling, sleet drifting down.
No, Sophie, I said quietly, but firmly. I wont.
I closed the door, but after a moment, fetched the tablecloth.
Ive washed it, though its still new. And hereI pushed £50 into the foldthis is all I can do for you.
Em She reached for me.
No, I stepped back. Its not a good time. I have family. And youwell, youre strong, Soph. You made it all yourself, didnt you? Time to do it again. Were on different levels, arent we?
I shut the door gently, but firmly. I leaned against the wood, eyes closed.
Behind it, I could hear her scratching at the panel, pleading, begging. And when there was no answer, the curses started.
Ten minutes latersilence.
***
Sophie found shelter with a distant cousin in some village. Word reached me shes changed a lot, works at the post office, spends her evenings telling anyone wholl listen about the rich life she used to haveand the betrayal of her dearest friend, who never helped her when she needed it.
I know all this, but dont bother defending myself. Whats the point? Life has put everything in its place.
