What became of us

looked at each other for a long time, seeing each other’s thoughts, and then Penny had said, ‘When are you going back to Italy?’
    And Manon had replied, ‘I’m not going back.’
    And it had been as simple as that.
    ‘I’m so glad because that means that we don’t have to do the christening today as well as the party…’ Penny said, ever practical.
    ‘The christening?’
    ‘We never got around to christening Lily because of all this...’ she waved her hands vaguely up and down her body, ‘and anyway you’ve never been here.’
    A letter asking Manon to be Lily’s godmother had arrived long before with a picture of Lily a day old. Manon had been flattered, but had not taken the request seriously. She had sent two tiny Lacoste polo shirts in white and pink. Now it would not just be about birthday presents and saints’ days, she realized, wondering whether she could rise to the challenge of being a proper godmother.

    The coach sped under the tunnel at Hangar Lane and out through the greener suburbs. Manon tried to imagine what Penny would say to her now. Theirs had been the sort of friendship where they could go for years without seeing each other, but still find themselves communicating when they met as if they had parted only the day before. She sometimes thought that if she tried hard enough she would be able to conjure up a kind of virtual Penny in her mind, who would talk to her in the same calm, non-judgemental way. But it didn’t work like that. Penny was gone, and although her looks and spirit seemed to continue almost uncannily in Saskia, there was no phantom Penny wafting around to connect with. Penny had always been straightforward. She had died and was gone. Manon missed her terribly.

    The evening after Penny’s birthday party they had sat together on the swing chair in the back garden of the rectory, talking rapidly and quietly as they had always done since the friendship was forged on the cold stone steps of the Examination Schools in their first Hilary term.
    All the guests had left tactfully early, some, like Annie, unable to stop themselves crying, still demanding that Penny comfort them, as she always had, instead of offering her comfort. Even though she had so much to say herself, and so little time, Penny had listened without interrupting as Manon explained what her life had been like in Italy. They rocked backwards and forwards on the yellow-and-white striped cushions as the heat grew more intense and the shadows longer. And after Manon had finished speaking, a silence had fallen, punctuated only by the creaking of the swing’s hooks on the frame.
    Then, as it grew quite dark, Penny asked her, ‘What are you going to do now?’
    ‘I’m going to be around to help you,’ Manon replied.
    ‘But what are you going to do about you?’
    ‘I don’t know. Begin again?’
    She remembered feeling guilty for having the chance to say that when she had made such a mess of her life and Penny had made such a success of hers. She didn’t want to tell Penny that she had only finally made the decision to leave Rodolfo that afternoon. She had not even considered what she would do.
    ‘I’ve written some stories and I might send them to a publisher,’ she said, grabbing at the first idea that appeared in her head.
    ‘Annie knows everyone. Why don’t you ask her?’
    ‘I may do. She told me I could have her spare room if I needed it.’
    ‘Oh, but you can stay with us in Joshua Street. You could have your old room!’ Penny offered. ‘It’s kind of Roy’s office, but he never uses it. There’s a futon.’
    ‘Maybe, for a couple of days. You need time on your own, and so do I.’
    Penny had not pressed her further, and when she left to go to London a couple of days later, she had asked, concerned, ‘Do you have any money?’
    ‘Not really. I was wondering whether you could lend me some. Just a couple of hundred to get me going
    Penny started writing a cheque, and then they both realized that Manon didn’t have a bank account in England, and so without even thinking about it, Penny handed over her cashcard and made her memorize the PIN number testing her several times so she wouldn’t have to write it down.
    ‘Why don’t you just take it until you get yourself sorted out. There’s a couple of thousand in there, Just bits and pieces I’ve saved, sort of sinking fund really.’ She gave a short, ironic laugh.
    Manon had memorized the number until the coach journey back to