I had known Margaret since our primary school days in Cardiff, Wales. We were fast friends. I was the quiet one, she was outgoing. She was the life of the party and it was no surprise when we lived together as roommates on campus, that she always had a boyfriend in her room. It was also no surprise when she fell pregnant in our final year with Gary, one of her few boyfriends that I did not like. They married a week after graduation and their child was born four months later.
I had lost contact with Margaret over the years and was surprised to receive a message on Instagram from her saying that she had divorced Gary and was in London, could we meet?
She was free on Saturday night and we agreed to meet for drinks at the American Bar in the Savoy Hotel and then have dinner at The Grill.
My husband had agreed to take care of the kids somewhat reluctantly, as I had dumped the kids on him in the morning for four hours while I was at the beauty parlour. The session had fortuitously been booked in preparation for the interview on Monday and besides a haircut, a mani and a Pedi, it painfully involved the removal of a great deal of body hair from everywhere.