Love in Another Town

by Barbara Taylor Bradford

  Maggie smiled inwardly, thinking it was a good omen. Her mother had been the most positive person she had ever known, one who had always believed in the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, silver linings and bluebirds bringing happiness.

  Mom was an eternal optimist, she thought, still smiling to herself, filled with the fondest of memories. I’m glad I inherited that trait from her. If I hadn’t I don’t think I would have survived the debacle with Mike Sorrell. They would have taken me away in a strait-jacket. But she had indeed survived and life had never been better for her, she decided. And then she thought: how many people get a second chance at life?

  When she reached the end of the path, Maggie turned around and headed back to the hotel. She and Samantha were staying here overnight, en route to London by rented car. They had driven down from Edinburgh and Glasgow, and had arrived at Sunlaws in time for lunch.

  The manor was in Kelso, in the area known as The Borders, in the heart of Roxburghshire. The gracious old house, which belonged to the Duke and Duchess of Roxburghe, had been turned into the most charming of country hotels.

  Sunlaws was handsomely furnished, full of mellow antiques and fine paintings, and it was imbued with the comfort and welcoming warmth that Maggie loved. It was a look and an environment that she strove hard to create in her own decorating schemes for her clients.

  The landscape around the hotel was equally captivating, and it reminded her of the northwestern highlands of Connecticut. The moment she had set eyes on it she had begun to feel homesick.

  Maggie now realized that she couldn’t wait to get back to her house in Kent. And to Jake. He was constantly on her mind; she rarely stopped thinking about him, wishing he were here, wishing he could be sharing this trip with her. And she wished he had been with her when she bought the antiques in Edinburgh and Glasgow. They were for the farmhouse and were good pieces made of dark, ripe wood, some of them handcarved, and all were very old and beautifully made. They would sit perfectly in the rooms at Havers Hill Farm, would underscore the mood of the house and its overall feeling of antiquity.

  Maggie was glad she had come to Scotland with Samantha. The trip had been highly successful for both of them. Apart from the antique furniture she had purchased, she had found other interesting things: antique lamps, porcelains and all sorts of unique accessories.

  Samantha had invested in a variety of fabrics which she planned to sell in the studio shop she was opening in three months’ time. Maggie’s favourites were the Scottish wools, mohairs and tartans, which had taken her fancy as well as Samantha’s.

  All in all they had done well, and Maggie made up her mind to come back next year. With Jake. He had never travelled abroad and had recently confided that he would enjoy making a trip to England one day.

  She had missed him, missed his warmth and affection, his sense of fun, his dry humour, his passion, and his constant cosseting of her. He made her feel so wanted, so loved, in a way which Mike Sorrell never had.

  She heard her name and glanced up, peering ahead, shading her eyes against the bright light with her hand. She waved when she saw Samantha coming down the path towards her.

  ‘I’ve been looking all over for you!’ Samantha exclaimed, tucking her arm through Maggie’s, falling into step. The two of them continued on to the hotel together.

  Maggie said, ‘I love this time of day, just before dark. It’s magic.’

  Samantha nodded. ‘So do I. And that’s what they call it in the movie business … the magic hour. Apparently cinematographers think it’s the most wonderful light for filming.’ Samantha shivered. ‘Let’s go inside, Maggie, it’s turned coolish. There’s a breeze blowing up for one thing, and it smells of rain.’

  ‘I’m a bit cold myself,’ Maggie admitted.

  They increased their pace, and once they were inside the hotel Samantha looked at her watch. She said, ‘It’s nearly seven. Let’s go and have a drink in the lounge. There’s a huge fire blazing in there. It might be July, but they know something about these cool Scottish nights, the locals do.’

  A short while later the two friends sat in the comfortable lounge. It was furnished with deep leather chairs and sofas, and there were wonderful old paintings on the walls. Vases of flowers were everywhere and their mingled scents filled the air. The only sounds were the ticking of a clock somewhere at the other end of the room and the hiss and crackle of the logs burning in the huge marble fireplace. Silk-shaded lamps had been turned on and the lounge had a soft glow to it.

  Samantha looked around and said, ‘It’s so intimate and cosy in here, and the room has a real country-house feeling to it, don’t you think?’

  ‘It’s a look that’s hard to reproduce properly,’ Maggie said. ‘The British do it so well, maybe because it’s endemic to their way of life.’

  Samantha merely smiled and took a sip of her white wine. Then she glanced across at Maggie. ‘I’ve really enjoyed the trip, haven’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I have.’

  Now Samantha eyed her carefully and murmured, ‘But you’ve missed Jake, haven’t you?’

  Maggie smiled. ‘A bit …’ She laughed, added, ‘A lot actually. How did you guess?’

  ‘You’ve seemed distracted sometimes, and sort of … well, faraway is the best way of describing it.’

  Maggie was silent. She averted her face for a brief moment, sat gazing into the fire, a quiet, reflective expression settling in her eyes. After a moment she glanced at her best friend and said, ‘There’s something I want to tell you.’

  Samantha nodded. ‘And oddly enough, I’ve got something to tell you. But you go first.’

  There was a fractional silence. Maggie then said, ‘I’m pregnant, Sam.’

  ‘Good God! You can’t be! Surely not! Not in this day and age! Don’t tell me you didn’t use anything, for God’s sake!’

  ‘Yes. I missed my period for the second time last week, when we first got here. And no, we didn’t use anything.’

  Samantha sat back, gaping at her askance. ‘There’s something out there called AIDS, Maggie.’

  ‘I know. But … well … I trust Jake, I know he’s not promiscuous.’

  ‘When you slept with Jake you slept with everybody else he’s ever been with … you don’t know anything about them.’

  Maggie did not respond. She leaned back against the tapestry cushions in the leather chair and stared into space. Then finally rousing herself, she muttered, ‘You said you had something to tell me. What is it?’

  Samantha hesitated, cleared her throat, and leaning closer to Maggie, she said quietly, ‘You’d better know this, even though it might hurt more than ever. Jake’s a married man, Mag. I found out just before we left, but I didn’t want to tell you then and upset you. However, I thought you should know, now that we’re heading back home. I purposely waited so as not to spoil your trip.’

  Maggie said quickly, ‘But I already know that! He told me himself, weeks ago. Actually, it was a few days after we became lovers. He was very honest with me, Sam. He said he had been separated for a year, living alone for that time, and was in the middle of a divorce. Are you suggesting he’s still living with his wife?’

  Samantha shook her head and said swiftly, ‘No, no, I’m not.’

  ‘Who told you he was married?’

  ‘A client. She bought me a present from the bath and body shop in New Milford. When she gave the basket of goodies to me, all kinds of aromatherapy products, she said they’d been recommended by Amy Cantrell. I suppose I must have reacted to the name, and my client said something about Amy being the wife of Jake Cantrell, the lighting expert. But if you say he’s separated, then I’m sure he is.’

  ‘And he does live alone,’ Maggie asserted. ‘I’ve been to his house several times.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me he was in the middle of a divorce?’

  Maggie shrugged. ‘I didn’t think it was particularly important, Sam.’

  ‘What are you going to do about the baby, Maggie?’<
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  ‘I’m going to have it, of course.’

  Samantha gave her a questioning stare. ‘What about Jake? I mean, what do you think he’ll say? Do?’

  ‘I’m sure he’ll be pleased. I hope so. But in any case it’s my choice, and only mine. I’m certainly not going to have an abortion.’

  Maggie leaned forward, and her face was suddenly bright with happiness and hope, when she added, ‘While I was walking in the garden earlier, I couldn’t help thinking that not many people get a second chance in life. I did. The baby’s my second chance, and Jake of course. I think I’m very lucky.’

  ‘Do you think he’ll want to marry you?’

  ‘I don’t know … I don’t really care … about making it legal. I can bring up a baby myself and support a child. I’m very competent, Sam.’

  ‘You don’t have to tell me! I know that only too well,’ Samantha remarked pithily.

  ‘Maybe you think I’m crazy,’ Maggie ventured. ‘Here I am, forty-four years old, pregnant by my much younger lover of twenty-nine, who’s not even divorced yet, whom I’m not sure even wants to marry me.’ She began to laugh and lifted her hands in a helpless gesture. ‘And do I want to marry him?’ Maggie shrugged and lifted a dark brow.

  Samantha shook her head wonderingly. ‘There’s nobody like you, Maggie, when it comes to coping. Let’s not forget that you came through a pretty rotten situation with your husband of twenty-odd years who decided to take a walk. A situation which might have felled many another woman.’

  ‘Don’t spoil my day! Don’t mention Mike Sorrell. Anyway, getting back to Jake, he does love me.’

  ‘He told you?’

  ‘Yes, he did.’

  ‘Do you love him, Mag?’

  ‘Yes. Very much.’

  ‘You’re very brave, Maggie.’

  ‘Oh, Sam, I’m very lucky …’

  Samantha Matthews was glad she had insisted that they stay at Brown’s Hotel. It was handy to Piccadilly, Bond Street and just about everywhere else, being in the centre of the West End. It was easy to walk to all the shops, and cabs were readily available.

  Now as she hurried down Albemarle Street, making her way back to the hotel, she could not help wondering what Maggie had been doing this afternoon. Her friend had insisted on going off alone, and had behaved in the most secretive way. But she would soon know; Maggie would eventually tell her.

  It was hot and muggy this afternoon and a storm threatened. Samantha decided to ask the head porter to order a car and driver for the evening ahead. They were going to the theatre and then on to dinner at The Ivy and the last thing they needed was to be caught in the rain.

  When she entered the lobby Samantha made straight for the porter’s desk. After ordering a car, she took the lift up to the suite she and Maggie were sharing. It was her treat, her birthday present to Maggie. ‘But you’ve already given me that gorgeous bag!’ Maggie had protested when she had made the announcement in Scotland. Samantha had merely smiled at the time and refused to listen.

  Maggie was still out.

  Samantha dropped her bag and packages on the sofa in the sitting room and went through into the bedroom. Taking off her dress and stepping out of her high-heeled shoes, she put on a silk robe and lay down on her bed. She was tired from rushing around all day and wanted to relax before dressing for the evening.

  After a moment her thoughts settled on Maggie. She loved her like the sister she had never had, and there was no one she felt closer to, or cared more about. Not unnaturally, given the circumstances, she was worried about Maggie. It was she who had introduced Maggie to Jake Cantrell, and she felt responsible for the current situation. On the other hand, Maggie was a forty-four-year-old woman who was highly intelligent and extremely smart. If she didn’t know what she was doing, then Samantha didn’t know who did.

  Samantha sighed under her breath. There were no doubts in her mind about Maggie’s capabilities, and in many ways she admired the attitude she was taking about the baby. But what about Jake? Would he come through for Maggie? And what if he didn’t? Could Maggie really manage to bring the baby up on her own? That took guts, which Maggie had, of course. She’ll be all right, no matter what, Samantha decided. And I’m there to help her. Samantha smiled to herself. Their motto had always been: through thick and thick and thin and thin.

  The telephone on the nightstand between the two beds began to ring. Reaching for it, Samantha said, ‘Hello?’

  ‘Is that you, Samantha?’

  ‘Yes, it is. Who’s this?’ she asked, failing to recognize the somewhat gruff male voice at the other end of the line.

  ‘It’s Mike Sorrell, Sam.’

  Samantha was so surprised she almost dropped the receiver. ‘Oh!’ she exclaimed and then added in an icy tone, ‘What can I do for you, Mike?’

  ‘I’m looking for Maggie.’

  ‘She’s not here.’

  ‘When do you expect her, Sam?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Samantha replied, as cold as ever, ignoring his attempt at friendliness.

  ‘Have her call me, please.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘I’m staying at the Connaught.’

  ‘You’re in London!’

  ‘I’m here on business.’

  ‘How did you know where we’re staying?’

  ‘I tracked you down, via your assistant in Connecticut. When all I could get was Maggie’s answerphone, I phoned your studio.’

  ‘I see. I’ll give her the message.’

  ‘Thanks,’ he said.

  ‘Goodbye,’ Samantha muttered and slammed the phone down. She glared at it. Son of a bitch, she thought and angrily zapped on the television set. She got the BBC and the evening news, but watched it somewhat absentmindedly, wondering what Maggie’s ex-husband wanted with her.

  Half an hour later Maggie walked into the suite laden with shopping bags. ‘Hi, Sam,’ she said, walking through into the bedroom, putting the packages on a chair and kicking off her shoes. ‘It’s just started to rain. Perhaps we’d better get a car for tonight.’

  ‘I already did,’ Samantha replied and pushed herself into a sitting position on the bed. ‘Sit down, Maggie darling. And brace yourself.’

  Maggie stared at her. ‘Why? What’s wrong?’ She frowned, then continued, ‘There is something wrong. I can tell from the dour expression on your face.’

  ‘Guess who’s in London? No, you’ll never guess. Don’t even try. It’s Mike Sorrell. He just called you, about half an hour ago. He wants you to phone him. He’s staying at the Connaught.’

  ‘Good God!’ Maggie flopped into the nearest chair and stared at Samantha, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘How did he find us? Not that it’s a secret where we are.’

  ‘Through Angela. When he couldn’t raise you he called my studio.’

  Maggie bit her lip, suddenly thoughtful. ‘Out of the blue he wants to talk to me. I wonder why.’

  ‘As do I, Mag. Are you going to call him?’

  ‘I don’t know. What for? It can’t be anything to do with Peter or Hannah, he would have told you if there was some sort of problem or emergency.’

  ‘I think he would. He sounded calm enough and controlled.’

  Maggie thought for a moment and then made a decision. Pushing herself to her feet, she looked at Samantha and said, ‘I’m going to talk to him now, get this out of the way.’ She walked into the sitting room looking brisk and businesslike.

  Samantha slid off the bed and followed her.

  Maggie lifted the phone on the desk, asked the operator to connect her to the Connaught Hotel and a few seconds later she was talking to Mike Sorrell.

  ‘It’s Maggie. I hear you want to talk to me.’

  ‘Hi, Maggie! Yes, I do. I was hoping we could get together.’

  ‘Oh. Why?’

  ‘I need to go over something with you. How about tonight? I thought we could meet for a drink. Or dinner.’

  ‘Certainly not.’

  ‘Not even a drink?’


  ‘No. I’m busy this evening.’

  ‘Tomorrow?’ he suggested.

  ‘Why can’t we talk now, on the phone? That’s what we’ve been doing, off and on, for the last two-and-a-half years.’

  ‘I need to see you in person, Maggie.’

  ‘Are the twins okay?’

  ‘Oh yes, they’re fine. Look, I think we have some unfinished business to discuss.’

  Startled to hear this, Maggie was silent for a moment. Then she made another decision. ‘Nine o’clock tomorrow morning. Here at Brown’s Hotel. I’ll meet you in the lounge.’

  ‘Okay! Great. ’Bye, honey.’

  Maggie put the receiver in its cradle and turned around, stood leaning against the desk, staring at Samantha. ‘You’re not going to believe it, but that snake in the grass just had the temerity to call me honey.’

  ‘Something’s not kosher in the House of Denmark, to paraphrase Hamlet!’ Samantha exclaimed indignantly.

  ‘Since you’ve seen fit to meet with him, I’m glad you made your venue here. I’ll be ready and waiting in case you need me … to kill that son of a bitch.’

  Maggie couldn’t help laughing. ‘Oh Sam darling, I do love you. No matter what, you can always bring a smile to my face.’

  Grinning, Samantha leapt to her feet and went over to the small bar. ‘Let’s have a vodka on the rocks before we get ready for the theatre.’

  ‘Good idea. You fix it. I want to get something from the bedroom.’

  Maggie returned a moment later, carrying a small package. ‘This is for you, Sam. It’s just to say thank you for all this – ’ She glanced around the sitting room. ‘But mostly it’s because you’re always there for me, and always have been.’

  Samantha took the package, tore off the wrapping paper and opened the red velvet box. It contained a pair of delicate chandelier earrings made of gold and malachite.

  ‘Oh Maggie, how sweet of you! The earrings I admired in that shop in the Burlington Arcade. Thank you so much, they’re gorgeous. But you shouldn’t have.’ She went over and hugged Maggie, and added, ‘Your friendship is the most important thing in the world to me.’

  Maggie drew away from her, and smiled lovingly. ‘Through thick and thick and thin and thin …’