 Tantal Audio Presents The Last Anniversary By Leanne Moriarty Narrated by Heather Wildes 1. Do you really think we can get away with it? If I didn't think so, I wouldn't be suggesting it, would I? We could go to jail. That's my third worst fear. First, funnel-webs, then childbirth, then jail. Neither of us is going to jail, you nanny. One day we'll be sweet little old ladies, and we'll probably forget that it didn't happen the way we said it did. I can't imagine us as sweet little old ladies. It does seem unlikely, too. A marriage is hard work, and sometimes it's a bit of a bore. It's like housework. It's never finished. You just got to grit your teeth, and keep working away at it, day after day. Of course, the men don't work as hard at it as we do, but that's men for you, isn't it? They're not much good at housework, either. Well, they weren't in my day. Of course, these days they cook, vacuum, change nappies. The lot. Still don't get equal pay in the workforce, though, do you? You've got a long way to go, you girls. Not doing much about that, though, are you? Yes, OK, Aunt Connie, but the thing is, I'm not interested in marriage in general. I'm interested in Alice and Jack's marriage. How would you describe it? Ordinary? Extraordinary? Cast your mind back. Even the tiniest detail will be helpful. Did they love each other, do you think? Love. I'll tell you something, something important. Write this down. You ready? Yes, yes, I'm ready. Love is a decision. Love is a decision. That's right. A decision, not a feeling. That's what you young people don't realise. That's why you're always off divorcing each other. No offence, dear. Now, turn that silly tape recorder off and I'll make you some cinnamon toast. I'm stuffed for the food, Aunt Connie. Really? Look, I have to say you haven't been at all helpful. See, the Monroe baby mystery is like a jigsaw puzzle. You're a piece of the puzzle. If I found all the pieces, I could actually solve it. Imagine that. After all this time, wouldn't you like that? Wouldn't that be fascinating? Oh, Veronica, love. Why don't you just get a job? A good, steady job in a bank, perhaps. Three. Out of the blue, just after the Easter break, Sophie Honeywell's ex-boyfriend Thomas Gordon calls her at work to ask if they can meet for a drink. He says he needs to talk to her about something quite serious. But nothing too serious, I hope. Sophie hears herself sounding bright and brittle. Her heart beats fast, as if she's just had a bad fright. And in fact, it did give her a start when she heard that familiar, but now strange voice. This is the first time they've spoken since their very messy break-up three years ago. Nobody's died, I hope. She asks all hail and hearty. What a stupid thing to say. She never says that sort of thing. It must be nerves. There is a pause, and then Thomas says, Well, yes, actually, somebody has died. Sophie hits the palm of her hand against the side of her head. She has a moment of dithery throat clearing, and then just in time she remembers the polite thing to say to bereaved people. Thomas. She says gently and sadly, I'm so sorry. Yes, thank you. Replies Thomas briskly. So, can we meet for a drink? Yes, of course we can. But, ah, well, who died? I'd rather talk about it tonight. All of a sudden it's like they have never broken up. Why can't he just come out and say things? Her mouth begins to gape into one of those silent shrieks of frustration that used to characterize so many of her phone conversations with Thomas. But I'll be worrying all afternoon wondering who it is. Who, who died? He sighs heavily and says as if proving a point. My aunt Connie. Oh. Sample complete. Ready to continue?