‘I allowed jealousy to wreck our friendship’
Linda Aitchison, 53, is a communications manager. She lives in Walsall and has grown-up twin daughters. People you meet as a new mum can become lifelong friends. Carol and I met at antenatal classes in 1998 when she was expecting her son Morgan and I was pregnant with Melissa and Emily. Carol was kind, funny and generous.
Later, I set up a promotions company, and Carol came on board to manage the finances. My partner Neil was my soulmate, but Carol was often the one I’d turn to when things went wrong.
Never had I needed her more than the day Neil was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer. Our girls were only 13 at the time. When the doctors told me he had weeks to live, it was such a shock that I collapsed on the hospital floor – and it was Carol who held and comforted me.
Neil and I decided we wanted to get married as quickly as possible. Carol organised the most beautiful church wedding in two weeks flat. It was a beautiful, unforgettable day.
Only four months later, Neil died. I was lost in grief. But his death had an entirely unexpected consequence. Carol had been so struck by the bond Neil and I had shared that only a week after his death, she left her husband. ‘We’ll never have what you and Neil had,’ she explained.
Not long afterwards, Carol met a new partner, Andy, and rather thoughtlessly said the good thing about Neil dying was that she’d met Andy. She never meant to hurt me, but I was shocked and angered.
SEPARATE WAYS
Still consumed by grief and diagnosed with PTSD, I couldn’t work. Carol had to take over the company, and when I finally got back to the office, I realised she had taken the company in an entirely new direction. We had stand-up rows in the office and Carol had brought in a business advisor who bluntly said the best thing I could do was sack myself. But what I found hardest to cope with was Carol’s happiness with Andy, who she’d married. I missed Neil so much and I couldn’t help feeling jealous.
Finally, in 2017, Carol told me she’d decided to leave the company – and leave our relationship behind, too. Not long afterwards, she saw her doctor about a troublesome cough. To everyone’s dismay, she was diagnosed with lung cancer, although she’d never smoked.
I broke down when she rang to tell me. It was the first time we’d spoken since the business break-up. Pride, resentment, jealousy were all tossed aside. I told her I loved her like a sister and would be there for her. But I felt ashamed it had taken this awful news to bring me back to her.
Carol handled her illness with dignity and optimism, but died six weeks later.
Allowing our friendship to crumble is one of my life’s biggest regrets. None of us know how long we have, and Carol always said she never wanted to waste a day of her life. I try to remember that now.
‘WE HAD STAND-UP ROWS IN THE OFFICE’