The post usually arrived by 10:00 am on a Saturday and this day was no exception. I must be popular, I decided, for once, as there were there were six letters; one a bank statement (fortunately still in the black, just), a bill for my mobile telephone, two offers of a platinum credit card (binned immediately) and one charity request (also binned after a cursory glance). The final letter looked official and had the name of a firm of solicitors from Coventry on the back. Before opening it, I wondered what any solicitor wanted from me. I regard solicitors’ letters in the same way I feel about policemen calling – they always brought bad news. It is an odd dread as I have never had a policeman knock at my door with bad news, or letters from a solicitor. It was the thought of it that worried me. What if it I had forgotten to pay a bill and I was being taken to court? But I am always diligent with my payments and I’d had no red final demands. What if I’d unwittingly caused an accident? I couldn’t think of anything, but these things do happen. But then I had another idea, a happier scenario. What if some forgotten relative had died and I had inherited a small fortune? That would be good news. It was as if the presence of the letter had robbed me of any common sense. I was reluctant to open it, afraid of what it might say. Slowly my sense returned. The contents of the letter would only be revealed once I had opened it.
I read the letter through with a mixture of relief and anger. Then read it again.
Dear Mrs Simmonds
I am writing to inform you that I have been advised by Mr Jacob Simmonds that you and he have been living apart for more than two years and he wishes to instigate divorce proceedings.
It would be in your own best interests to obtain legal advice and for your solicitors to communicate directly with me.
It was signed by a Mrs R Cameron.
I was relieved it wasn’t anything worse. And then I felt angry. Jake had been out of my life for nearly three years. Three years during which I had had to rebuild my life, bit by bit. Three years I had been robbed of my best friend and several other friends who had, for whatever reason, stayed more loyal to him than to me. I was beginning to feel I was free from him and here he was bursting unwanted into my life again. A divorce was expensive, even if everything was simple and I had a sinister feeling Jake wouldn’t make things easy.
I called Jane immediately. For once my luck was in. Simon was going out that evening and she was pleased to have company. Although I couldn’t really afford it, I took a taxi. Two bottles of wine accompanied me and I knew I wouldn’t be fit to drive home again. I wanted to get drunk but I wanted Jane’s advice first. And I didn’t want to get drunk alone.
Jane opened a bottle and poured two large glasses before she sat me down and asked what had upset me. She had caught the edge in my voice when I’d phoned and had the sense not to say anything. She listened without interrupting while I rattled on about every injustice I could think of, from finding him and Neeta together, to not being able to have children, to him wanting a divorce and everything in between. Especially the fact that I didn’t see why I should have to pay hundreds of pounds to get a divorce I hadn’t asked for.
“I know it's hard now,” Jane said when I had finally run out of steam, “but there may come a time when you might be glad you’re divorced. You’re still young and attractive. One day you might want to get married. Just imagine a romantic proposal from a man who wants to whisk you off for a fantastic wedding and you have to wait because you need to get a divorce. How very unromantic that would be.” I protested that the scenario she was suggesting was about as likely as winning the jackpot on the lottery and the odds there were 14 million to one. “But someone wins the lottery most weeks. Why couldn’t it be you?”
“Because I don’t do the lottery,” I replied. And that struck me as funny. I stuttered a laugh and much of my anger ebbed. “Thanks,” I smiled. “Thank goodness I’ve got a real level headed friend I can rely on.”
Jane gave me the name of the solicitors she had used for her divorce, Bruckman, Hickey and McDrew, a local firm. They had been understanding and wouldn’t let the other side get away with anything. It had cost her almost £3,500 but she had got a much better settlement than she had expected.