You bounce through life like a goat
You wait and see, Alice, well make the kind of moves people write books about, Emily waved her hands, perched on the window ledge of our university halls. You into consulting, me into marketing, and then bam well open our own firm. The futures ours for the taking!
Alice looked up from her notes and laughed, tossing back her heavy braid.
Emily, our exams are in a week and youre already building an empire.
What, am I not allowed to dream? Emily hopped down from the ledge, landing beside me on the old sagging bed. Seriously, Alice. Were not like those hens from our course. Were clever. Well crack it for sure.
Alice set her pen aside and studied her friend disheveled, faded t-shirt, but her eyes ablaze. For some reason, in that moment, she believed every word.
Well crack it, absolutely we will she murmured.
Ten years disappeared in a breath…
…Alice chewed through those years with grit. An internship at a global firm, countless sleepless nights over spreadsheets, business English at dawn, Mandarin on Sundays. Forums, conferences, networking galore. She clawed her way up, skinning elbows and knees, never stopping. By thirty, Alice wore tailored suits from Savile Row, jetted to Tokyo for negotiations, and couldnt remember the last time she cried from exhaustion there simply wasnt time anymore.
Emily met Thomas in their third year. He worked as a mechanic, smelled of petrol, and looked at her as if she were the only woman on earth. In her fourth year, Emily was pregnant; by fifth, shed dropped out of university. The marketing agency dissipated somewhere between her daughters first tooth and her second pregnancy. Now her empire was a three-bedroom flat in a quiet suburb reigning over saucepans, toddler tantrums, and a perpetually leaking tap.
They still met though less and less.
Alice brought gifts from business trips: a silk scarf from Milan, a tin of mountain tea from Yunnan. Shed produce photos from her bag, describe Kyoto temples, recount negotiations with Japanese partners.
They never say anything straight, you know? All hints and subtlety. I spent three months learning their etiquette so I wouldnt make a fool of myself at the first meeting.
Emily nodded, fiddling with the packet of tea, silent. Then shed sigh heavily.
Lucky you. Meanwhile, Mias caught another bug from nursery, Thomas is always at work, moneys always tight…
Alice never knew what to say. It was as if a wall had grown between them lives, languages, even scents: her £200 perfume versus Emilys baby powder.
…On Emilys birthday, Alice arrived straight from Heathrow. Navy suit, heels, hair styled by the lounge stylist. She slid into the gathering effortlessly, laughing, sharing news about her latest project, catching the intrigued gazes of the men and the respectful ones from the women.
Emily sat in the corner…
Her dress was old, the same shed worn to Thomass work party three years before. Hair pulled back in a quick ponytail ran out of time for the hairdryer again: Mia had thrown another fit that morning. She watched Alice shine in the centre of the room, everyone hanging on her words, and deep inside, something bitter and sticky began to rise. It wasnt envy.
It was worse…
Alice came into the kitchen for some water and paused at the door. Emily stood at the window clutching her glass of wine, staring blankly through the pane.
Emily, why are you here on your own? Alice stepped closer, touched her friends shoulder. Come on, the guests are waiting, Nadines bringing out the cake.
Emily shrugged her hand off.
Go. Theyre waiting for you.
Alice frowned but held her ground. She poured herself water, sipped, then began carefully:
Listen, Ive meant to ask You miss work, I can tell. Theres a position at my firm entry level but with prospects. I could talk to HR, theyd take you on as a trainee, and then
Emily slammed her glass onto the counter, wine splashing across the surface.
Trainee? For me?
Emily, I just wanted to help
Help? Emily laughed, but it was a sharp, jagged sound. Do you hear yourself? The illustrious Alice Mayfair descends to bless her poor friend with charity. Thanks for the favour!
Youve got it wrong, Alice tried to stay calm. I see youre unhappy, that you want something more, and I just thought Id offer an option.
Did I ask you? Emily stepped towards her, and Alice involuntarily stepped back. Youve changed, Alice. You used to be normal, now youre all proud and haughty. You look down on everyone, with your Tokyos and fancy suits.
Thats not fair.
Not fair? Emily shouted, and someone poked their head from the living room, then quickly retreated. Is it fair that you parade your perfect life everywhere? Every day on Instagram here you are on a plane, here you are at a conference, heres your smoothie for five hundred quid! You think thats fun to watch?
The shock left Alice breathless…
Im sharing my happiness, Emily. Thats normal.
Happiness? Emily scoffed. Youre just showing off! Trying to prove how successful you are, while were losers, apparently. Proper women at thirty have families, raise kids, and you? You bounce through life like a goat, no husband, no kid. Youre barren!
That word cut deep, at the most vulnerable spot.
I worked Alice tried to steady her voice. I slogged through nights while you watched Netflix. I learned languages while you made stews. It was my choice; I have every right.
Oh, spare me! You trampled over people, thats what. Think I dont know how you pushed out Mary at that job? Selfish! Youve always thought only of yourself!
Alice was silent, looking at her former friend. The trembling lips, flush on her cheeks, years of bottled up resentment spilling out at last.
And then, clarity hit. Sickeningly clear.
Its not me you hate, Emily Alice said quietly. You hate yourself. For being too afraid to take a risk. For giving up. Its easier for you to believe Im awful than admit you simply chickened out.
Emily paled.
Get out!
Already gone, Alice set her glass down and headed for the front door. Goodbye, Emily. Good luck in your comfy kingdom.
Alice grabbed her bag, pushed open the door. Cold rain struck her face, but she didnt flinch, striding into the grey curtain.
Heels clicking on wet pavement. The expensive suit soaked, sticking to her back, mascara likely streaming down her cheeks, but who cared now. Alice walked to the tube station, breathing easier with every step.
Curiously, shed expected pain. Expected the ache of fifteen years friendship, of the girl with blazing eyes on the halls window ledge, of shared dreams and schemes. But instead, only relief arrived, dull and a little shameful.
Their friendship hadnt died today. It had faded slowly, year by year, conversation by conversation. Each time Alice shared joy, and got pursed lips in return. Each time she described her plans, and Emily rolled her eyes. Each time she tried to pull her friend out of the muck, while Emily clung to her ankles, dragging her down.
Alice descended into the Underground and sat on an empty seat, ignoring the damp marks she left. She took out her pocket mirror, glanced at her reflection streaked mascara, frazzled hair, red eyes. She smirked and tucked the mirror away.
Tomorrow at six, shed style her hair, don another suit, and off to work shed go. Life doesnt end because of someone elses jealousy…
A month later, Alice was called to the managing director. She entered the office, braced for anything new project, criticism, another negotiation marathon. But Mr. Douglas silently handed her a folder. Alice skimmed the first page.
Appointment as Regional Director for Asia-Pacific.
Annual contract in Singapore.
Youve earned it, Miss Mayfair, he leaned back. The board voted unanimously for you. You fly out in three weeks, think you can be ready?
Alice looked up from the paperwork and nodded.
Ill be ready.
She left the office, folder hugged to her chest, pausing in the empty corridor. Outside, November sun was setting, streaking the sky with gold and crimson. Somewhere, in a quiet suburb, Emily would be making dinner, complaining to Thomas about the unfair world.
But Alice was packing for Singapore.
And not once, not for a moment, had she regretted her choices. As the English say each to their own path.
Personal Lesson:
In the end, you cant force someone to want what you do, nor should you apologise for forging your own way. Theres no shame in success, nor is there shame in contentment as long as its truly your own. Sometimes, letting go of a friendship thats holding you back means finding space to breathe and to bounce forward, goat-like or otherwise.
