“You’re back for Christmas then?” Josie asked, knowing the small talk was mandatory when you bumped into someone like this.
“Oh, my husband and I actually moved here about a year ago,” she said, her eyes twinkling a little as she said “husband.” “He’s set up his own construction company, you know.”
“That’s nice,” said Josie automatically, although having no clue who her husband was made the information fall a little flat.
“And we’re expecting our second child,” said Beth, running her hands protectively over her stomach.
“Second,” repeated Josie, a little dumbfounded. “Wow.” Memo had told her Beth was pregnant, Josie remembered vaguely, but hearing about it and seeing it were two different things.
“I know.” Beth beamed again, looking much happier than Josie had ever thought she could. “Neil’s at home with Lucy at the moment, I just popped out to the shops for my mum.” She raised a shopping bag to emphasize the point. “Anyway, it’s so good to see you,” Beth continued, when Josie didn’t immediately think of something to say. “And we were all so sorry to hear about your grandmother—I really hope she’ll be OK.”
Of course everyone would know, Josie thought. Though it didn’t make her feel annoyed—in lots of ways it was nice that people knew, and cared. “Thanks,” she said. “Me too.”
Beth nodded sympathetically and Josie marveled at how different she’d turned out to be. She didn’t feel any different herself from the slightly shy, rule-following teenager she’d been—but maybe it was hard to tell, with yourself. “And is this your husband?” Beth asked politely, indicating Max, who Josie realized she’d left standing there, watching the conversation in a slightly bemused manner.
The question reminded Josie so much of Beth at school—her direct way of speaking, which had so often gotten her into some kind of trouble—that she laughed a little. It was nice to know that some things, at least, did not change. “This is Max,” she said. “A friend.” For want of a better—or more complicated—word, anyway.
Beth glanced down at Josie’s left hand, almost like a reflex, and seemed a little disappointed. “Well, that’s OK,” she said reassuringly, “there’s still time to meet someone.”
“Actually,” said Max, speaking for the first time, “they’re trying to stop you doing that now—they don’t want you to meet anyone new after you turn thirty.”
Josie and Beth both frowned at him. “They?” Beth asked.
“The government,” Max said promptly. “They did some research on it—turns out it’s bad for our mental health, meeting someone so late in life, so they’re introducing all these measures to encourage everyone to settle down in their twenties.” His face was deadly serious, even as Josie stared at him incredulously. “It’s supposed to increase social cohesion and lead to fewer mental health problems, especially depression, meaning we can divert funding elsewhere. It’s all going back to Durkheim’s original research on suicide, you know.”
Beth’s frown only deepened, while Josie shook her head at him, amazed that he could say it all so convincingly. “I didn’t see that anywhere,” Beth said. “Was it on the news?”
Josie elbowed Max hard enough in the ribs to make him wince. “He’s being an idiot, Beth, ignore him—it’s his idea of a joke.”
Beth had a half smile on her face as her eyes flicked between Josie and Max, like she was trying to figure out the punchline. “Anyway, we’re doing gingerbread-making now at my mum’s house—you should come! Unless you have plans right now?”
“Oh, I don’t—”
But Max cut Josie off. “That sounds amazing. I love gingerbread.” He settled the matter by taking Beth’s shopping bag from her to carry, then gesturing for her to lead the way.
Josie remembered Beth’s house from her teenage years, when she’d spent a few group sleepovers there, but she wasn’t prepared for the wave of familiarity that hit her when she stepped into the warmth. They stripped off hats and coats and Beth’s parents came out from the kitchen, both of them wearing matching aprons.
“Josie Morgan, that isn’t you?” Beth’s mum exclaimed, coming up to her with sparkling, delighted eyes.
“I bumped into her on the way,” Beth said. “Thought we could use a hand.”