can sit with her legs apart, resting her elbows on her knees, can run and play games with Humphrey, scooping him up for a cuddle without worrying that he might be getting mud on—heaven forbid—a Chanel jacket or a shearling coat.
They walk up the hill, stopping every few minutes to watch Humphrey excitedly greet other dogs. Emily chats away to the owners, sharing Humphrey’s story, explaining how she went to the shelter with the intention of getting a cat but fell in love with Humphrey and ended up with him instead, while Alice watches the dogs with a smile, offering Humphrey treats when he comes running back to her.
“God, I envy you,” Alice says, as they pause on the top of the hill to watch the people flying their kites. “This is so wonderful, to be able to come here every weekend and do this.”
“You envy me?” Emily starts to laugh. “Look at you, Alice. You live in a fantastic fuck-off house in Belgravia while I’m in a tiny one-bedroom flat in Camden. You have a husband while I’m still miserably single and my only permanent Mr. Right is Humphrey. Not to mention the fact that you lead the most glamorous lifestyle of anyone I’ve ever met, whereas my idea of a glam night out is Marine bloody Ices on Chalk Farm Road. Plus you’ve actually been in
Tatler,
and the only time I’m in the paper is on the rare occasions when they bother to print my by-line. How can you envy me?”
“Because you have so much freedom. You can do the things you love, whenever you feel like it. You can come to Primrose Hill every day of the week if you feel like it, and walk Humphrey, and talk to people, and go wherever you want to.”
“And you can’t?”
“No. I can’t.” Alice shakes her head. “I can’t have a Humphrey because our lifestyle isn’t conducive to a dog, it wouldn’t be fair. We haven’t got a garden, we live in town, and we’re always out. Joe hates animals.”
“I remember. He hated Molly and Paolo, didn’t he?”
“God, did he hate them. My poor babies. He pretended to tolerate them until he proposed, and then it was the cats or him.” Alice sighs. “At least I found them a good home. I suppose I have to be grateful for small mercies.”
“Didn’t we always say never trust a man who doesn’t like animals?”
“Don’t remind me,” Alice sniffs. “But animals aside, Joe would never do something like this. He can’t see the point in walking for the sake of walking. Actually”—she laughs—“I think he’s completely allergic to nature.”
“God. And you were the girl who thought she’d end up living in a thatched cottage in the Cotswolds. Weren’t you supposed to have horses and chickens?”
“Yup. And weren’t you supposed to have married a millionaire?”
“Yup. Shit. How did you end up living my life and I end up living yours?”
“Good point. Wanna swap?” Alice smiles.
“Only if I can keep Harry.”
“Nope. If we swap you have to have Joe and I get to have Harry.”
“You’ve never met Harry, how do you know you’d even like him?”
“A man who trains dogs for a living? I’m in love with him already. How bad can he be?”
“So can I ask a question?” Emily pauses and stops to look at Alice. “Just why exactly
did
you marry Joe?”
I t’s a question Alice has asked herself many times over the years. When he’s loving and kind, she thinks she knows why she married him, but when he’s distant and distracted, she has absolutely no idea.
Even when he’s being the perfect husband, Alice is forever questioning her life, because she knows that Emily is absolutely right, she has not ended up with the life she daydreamed about.
On a good day she is quite happy. Can find her lifestyle fun, amusing despite its superficiality (of which she is well aware). Can appreciate the trendy restaurants, the beautiful people, the endless round of cocktails and canapés. Looks at her husband and thinks he is the most wonderful man in the
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