Monie and I taught at the same school for several years, then life led us to different places. We were never friends, and often clashed with opinions, and I was surprised when last Thursday, after three years, I received a text message from her for a meetup. I knew her husband had left her and that she had a very hard time accepting it, so I was really looking forward to see her and give her a helping hand if she needed it.
I grabbed my handbag, stuffed it with the yr. 12 biology exam papers and strutted to our meeting place, Il Cibo, a busy cafe on the Mall. When I arrived, she was already sitting at the table for four, in the far corner of the café. She looked tired and forlorn, but managed a stifled smile when she saw me. I wanted to give her a hug, but she remained sitting and sizing me up, so I dropped my handbag on the free chair and sat opposite her.
‘Long time no see, Monie. How are you?’ I asked.
‘Never better,’ she said with a sigh.
‘I’m glad to hear that.’ Nothing about her could convince me she was ‘never better.’ Her expression was tense, sullen. She was such a terrible actress, but I let her play her role.
I ordered a flat white and a vanilla slice; she opted for a cappuccino.
‘Never better and enjoying my freedom,’ she repeated, fidgeting with her car keys. ‘What about you? You look like you need a makeover.’ She looked at me, focusing on my hair. ‘Your hair is out of shape and a bit of make-up wouldn’t hurt either.’
Our orders arrived, and she focused on the vanilla slice the waiter placed in front of me. ‘No wonder you’ve gained weight,’ she said.
‘Thank you for your observation and free advice. You’ve always been good at it, but I really like my vanilla slice. And my hair is long enough, so I put it up and it saves me the time in front of the mirror.’
Monie scoffed at my words, but I didn’t care and waited for her next ‘never better’ hit.
‘Look at you, Meg,’ she said, pointing to my overloaded handbag. ‘You’re carrying your schoolwork around even to a meetup, like it’s saving you from a shipwreck.’
‘I’ve just finished the biology exam with my year 12 students and now it’s the marking time, that’s all. I believe you do the same at your school,’ I said, enjoying my coffee and cake.
‘I do, but I don’t carry my schoolwork around,’ she said without looking at me.
‘Oh, Monie. It’s been a long time since we saw each other.’
She didn’t comment but sipped her cappuccino, looking miles away.
‘I’ll better stick to my work.’ I got up and took my handbag. ‘Enjoy your freedom, Monie.’
‘As if you know what freedom is,’ I heard her saying.
‘Maybe not, but it’s good to have something to save me from a shipwreck. I smiled, but she didn’t respond. ‘I’m glad we met. That’s it then,’ I said, and left. I never heard from Monie again. I’m sure she still enjoys her freedom.