The Happiness List: A wonderfully feel-good story to make you smile this summer!

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‘Oh. Huh,’ said Luke, nodding slowly.

Heather nudged him. ‘Listen, it’s going to be great. He’s my godson and he’s very cute. It might just give us some perspective on parenthood.’

Luke gave a resigned smile. ‘Okay. I’m not great with babies but, you know, if you’ve offered and it helps out Gemma then fine.’

Heather nodded. Enough for now. She stood up, feeling heavy with tiredness. ‘It’s been a long day,’ she said. ‘I’m going to grab a glass of water and head up to bed.’

He caught hold of her hand. ‘Okay, beautiful. I won’t be long. I love you, Heather Brown.’

‘I love you too.’

I really do love you, she thought as she filled a glass from the tap and stood frowning out at her reflection. And maybe that was enough for now but there was a seed of uncertainty threatening to take root in her heart. What if Luke never wanted kids? Would Heather be happy with that? What did she actually want from her life? Would enough for now be enough for ever? Maybe the truth she blurted out in the pub was just that. Maybe she really was a lost soul, still searching for what she needed and maybe, at the moment, she needed the course more than she cared to admit.

Chapter Eight (#ulink_f8e3893c-1270-5465-bd32-fde7f55b0385)

Fran

Happiness List Thing

1. Accept a world without Andy (too soon!)

2. ‘Digital Detox’ day with kids

On Sunday morning, Fran woke to bright sunshine and the sinking feeling that she couldn’t justify yet another pyjama day. It was time to leave the house. She knew that if they stayed in, Charlie would be glued to her iPad whilst Jude shut himself in his room, playing Bob Dylan protest songs as a pointed gesture to the fact that she had taken away his phone and grounded him for a fortnight. Fran couldn’t face the heavy atmosphere that would descend or the fact that she would be very likely to spend another wasted afternoon poring over Pinterest without being entirely sure what she was looking for.

She loved the idea of home improvements but since Andy died, the thought of making changes to the home they’d shared filled her with horror and sadness. The cruel irony of the situation was that she could afford to get the work done now thanks to the money from Andy’s life insurance. Also, Fran’s brother had had the good sense to become an independent financial advisor so their future was secure. Fran wasn’t rich but she wasn’t under financial pressure.

Her job as an editor had always been a constant. She’d been lucky in this respect. She’d worked for a large publisher in the years before marriage and kids. During this time, she’d had the happy fortune to acquire a little-known author, who went on to become a global phenomenon. When Fran bit the bullet after Charlie was born and decided to go freelance, the superstar author demanded to keep her as his editor. The publisher agreed because they loved Fran too. This meant that she was able to earn decent money from the author’s annual bestseller and pick and choose her other projects as well.

‘You’re so lucky, Fran,’ her former colleagues would cry. ‘You’ve got the dream job that fits around your kids and the money’s good. You’ve hit the jackpot.’