THE ULTIMATE BEST FRIEND

Poppy, Im getting married, said Molly, flashing an embarrassed grin. The weddings next Friday. Will you come? Id love to see you there.

Are you joking? You? Whos the groom? All of a sudden? Poppy felt a chill run through her at the news, as if a dear friend had just betrayed her.

She hadnt imagined it would hurt this much to hear it. Shed always looked at plainspoken Molly with a tinge of pity, doubting anyone would ever take her as a wife.

Why the surprise? Molly asked. Weve known Gareth for six months.

And you kept quiet? Whos he? Ive never seen him. Where have you been hiding him?

Hiding him? Molly laughed. We work togethermostly at the construction firm where Im a plasterer. I didnt expect anything, but he proposed and I said yes!

Youre a painter too? Poppy raised an indifferent eyebrow.

Gareth does it all. He runs the building company Im employed by.

Poppy was momentarily speechless, trying to gauge whether Molly was pulling a prank. But Molly looked calm, clearly not in the mood for jokes.

The two had been at the same secondary school since Year 7, and Poppy had always been the top of the class. She was quicker at her studies, prettier, slimmer, dressed better, and boys seemed to orbit around her. Molly, on the other hand, was largely ignored. Poppy felt sorry for her, thinking life and nature had dealt the poor girl a rough hand.

Molly had neither striking looks nor a curvy figure. She struggled academically and, after GCSEs, went into a plastering apprenticeship.

Isnt there a more interesting career? Poppy had asked once. Cant you switch to something fancier?

My mums been a plasterer on building sites all her life, so I followed her, Molly replied. Do you really want a tidy office job surrounded by cultured people? Im thinking of studying design.

I know nothing about design, but Ive helped Mum plaster and paint a lot. I like it. Ive learned a few tricks, and with my grades I cant get into university anyway.

Poppy didnt go to university either, but she didnt give up. She finished a college course and, thanks to her grades, secured a place in a design programme shed always dreamed of.

Even though their educational paths diverged, the girls still met often and kept their friendship alive. Poppy was sociable and frequently invited Molly out for a night on the town, where Mollys plainness made her stand out in a crowd of lads. Poppy was convinced shed land a handsome, welloff, promising husband herself.

Then came the news. How could it be? Where was justice? The plainspoken Molly decided to turn the tables.

So youll come to the wedding? she asked again.

Of course. I wouldnt miss it, Poppy replied firmly. Will I get to meet the groom?

Naturally.

Poppy had hoped Gareth would turn out to be a bald, rotund old chap marrying Molly just to save on the cost of interior work on his new cottage. That would keep the familys money in the pocketpractical, she thought.

Instead, Gareth was not exactly a Greek god but a decentlooking, cheerful young man with a scruffy beard. He gazed at his bride with adoration, oblivious to anyone else.

At the reception Poppy kept hovering near Molly, trying to catch Gareths eye. The couple, however, were completely absorbed with each other, ignoring her attempts. Only Mollys mother, Mrs. Harris, seemed to notice.

What are you playing at? she nudged Poppy toward her. Im just a simple workingclass mum; Ill tidy up your hair in a jiffy.

Poppy blinked. I dont get it.

Youll understand soon enough. I wont warn you twice.

My fiancé isnt as fancy as your soninlaw, Poppy bluffed, were getting married soon, too.

Then go on and enjoy it, Mrs. Harris smiled, keeping a close eye on Poppy all evening, guarding her daughters happiness.

Poppys pride was bruised. Shed just split from her latest boyfriend and hadnt been able to rope a jobless, mumsponsored lad into a registry office. Molly, meanwhile, had snagged a decent blokeonly because Poppy wasnt there to compete.

After the wedding Gareth and Molly moved into his flat, and Poppy became a frequent visitor. She pretended to be caring, hoping to spark Gareths interest. Gareth spent most days on site, while Molly suffered a severe case of morning sickness. Poppy felt more and more at home in their house.

Let me make lunch, she offered, ushering Molly out of the kitchen. If smells make you queasy, Ive got you covered.

I really cant even look at food, Molly admitted. Ive asked Gareth to take me to a café until this nausea passes.

A café is nice but pricey; homecooked is better. Dont worry, Ill handle it.

In due time Molly gave birth to a daughter, Lily, right on schedule, and Poppys help proved invaluable. Both grandmothers were still young enough to work weekends, and Poppy was still at university, slipping out of lectures to spend time with Lily and, of course, to try and win Gareths affection.

Gareth remained politely distant, his admiration reserved for his wife. That only spurred Poppy to be more proactive. You rest; Ill take the baby for a walk, she coaxed Molly. A little fresh air will do her good.

Molly, still weak after delivery, didnt object. Poppy timed the stroll to the hour Gareth usually returned from work.

Look, Lily, whos that? Your dad! she called out, waving as Gareth appeared and peered into the pram.

Not sleeping? Hello, Lily! Hi, Poppywheres Molly?

Probably napping. The birth was tough; her hips are narrow, making delivery hard. Ill help, were friends. Come, lets feed her; Ive made a tasty stew.

Despite Poppys efforts, the relationship with Gareth stayed strictly friendly. He adored his wife and was only courteous to Poppy.

She decided to up her game, visiting more often and staying longer. One day she ran into Mrs. Harris in the hallway.

What are you doing here? the mother scolded, spotting Poppy midshift. Molly, is she running your household now?

Mum, why are you being so harsh? Poppy is a huge help. I couldnt manage alone.

Did you hire her as a maid? Think of yourselfdo you plan to stay single?

Why are you always so nasty? Poppy snapped. I just want to help.

I know what youre after. You saw Lily at the wedding, licking the spoon, eyeing Gareth. Get out while you can

Mrs. Harris practically shoved Poppy out of the flat.

Dont be so naive, she warned her daughter. Dont you see where this ends? Men are weak; before you know it, youll be a single mother on your own.

If he leaves, its because he doesnt love me. I wont force him. In my opinion youre wrong, Poppy, youve hurt me, but youve also helped a lot, Molly sighed.

Honestly, youre a foolish girl. Dont ignore your mother, dont whine later. Get rid of her!

Molly wont come back now, Poppy muttered sadly.

But she was wrong. A few days later Poppy turned up early, while everyone else was at work, and no one could stop her plan.

Molly had just rocked Lily and was folding laundry in the spacious living room, trying not to make a sound.

I was scared you wouldnt show up. Dont be mad at my mother; shes a bit of a worrywart, Molly admitted, feeling guilty after the mothers outburst.

Poppy plopped onto the sofa, crossing her legs.

Your mother told the whole truth, she said, squinting. You just dont see it. Or you pretend not to.

Weve loved each other for ages, Gareth just cant admit it. He pities you, poor thing, with your crooked legs. Think anyone could love you?

She pointed at Poppys hair. Three strands in five rows, legs like a goats. Charming, isnt it? A painter, not a model!

Who needs you? Gareth muttered. I married you out of pity, and for conveniencehaving a plasterer at home is handy for my building business.

My God Stop, Poppy, Molly whispered, lips turning pale. Please, be quiet.

Ive been silent too long, but I cant any more. Gareth and I are expecting a child. He loves me, truly! Let him go, dont torture him.

Molly stared helplessly at the bedroom door. Poppy turned away, bewildered, not knowing where to run.

At the doorway stood Gareth, returning for lunch, hoping for a quick nap, and unintentionally witnessing the messy scene. He walked silently to Poppy, put an arm around her shoulders, and guided her toward the exit. She obeyed, stunned by his sudden appearance.

He waited while she slipped on her shoes, opened the door, and gestured outward. She stepped out, looking back in confusion.

No, dont come back, he said. Dont come here again.

He shut the door and turned back to the crying Molly.

Dont believe a word she says, he warned sternly, nothing ever happened between us, and it never could. Shes not my type.

I dont believe that, Molly sobbed. Why does she hate me so much?

Shes just jealous, thats all, he replied, lifting her gently to the bedroom to comfort her.

Nine months later, a baby boy named Jack arrived, a spitting image of his father. As for Poppy, Molly never saw her again and didnt care. She had no need for extra help any longer.