“Because this is so you.”

“So me?”

“You don’t really want to go to book group at all, do you?”

“I... No, not really. I was sort of sucked into it, and now I can’t extract myself.”

“And all those other things you’ve been sucked into since you arrived—how many of them do you enjoy?”

Christy thought about it. “I met a couple of friendly people in the local parent-child hiking group. And Holly had fun, too. But I couldn’t go as often as I wanted to because I didn’t have the time. It takes a whole morning. And then they go for lunch, which was great, actually, but—”

“Christy, stop! Can’t you see? If you stop reading books you don’t want to read and making quiche for people who make you feel inferior, you’d have time to do more hiking. Time to go for lunch. Or anything else that happens to bring you joy.” Alix squeezed her hand. “If you were able to stand up and tell me what you were really thinking, then you can stand up and say no to book group. And all the other groups you are only doing because you didn’t have the courage to say no. You make lists, but you’re not controlling your time. You’re not deciding what you want to do. You say you can’t extract yourself, but you can.”

Christy thought about telling Alison she wouldn’t be attending in future. “I don’t know...”

“I’m going to paint two scenarios here. Work with me.” Alix settled herself cross-legged again and held up one finger. “Scenario one, you decide you can’t put yourself through the stress of some straight talking with the scary book group woman—name?”

“Alison.”

“Scary Alison. Right. You don’t want to tell her in a calm, adult fashion that it’s not for you because that would be too awkward, and anyway, what are you going to say to her when you clash heads with her over a basket of oranges in the village shop, right?”

“Right.”

“Scenario two,” Alix said and held up a second finger, “you decide that this is your life and your time and that the only person who gets to choose how you spend it is you. You talk to Scary Alison, and yes, that’s stressful because you’re you, but it passes, you get over it, and then you have all this time to do something you do enjoy. Something you look forward to.”

“And when I do finally meet Alison by the oranges? Because that’s going to happen, obviously.”

“You say, Hey, Alison, good to see you. Don’t these oranges look delicious?”

“She’ll probably pelt me with citrus fruit.”

“Or maybe she’ll respect you. And if she doesn’t, that’s her problem. But you now get to start doing the things you want to do. You moved to the country because you pictured a certain life.”

“It’s not how I thought it would be.”

“Life so rarely is.” Alix leaned across and rescued a decoration that was hovering precariously close to the end of a branch. “Maybe you should forget expectations for a while and just live there. Start doing the things that you want to do. And if after a while you still think it’s not for you, then—” she shrugged “—move back to London. Or wherever.”