by Clare Lydon
I saw her van pass our front window and was immediately warmed. I’m not sure when Maddie and I had turned the corner on our new relationship — whatever that was — but it seemed we were now friends, no longer stuck in that odd place where neither of us was quite sure what we were. Somewhere, between viewing our new empire (what we’d decided to call it) and buying it, we’d thawed to a certain point. We still had to air all the things we’d never said. I wasn’t looking forward to that, because I knew it could make or break what we had. And as Gemma had told me earlier, friends or not, we needed to keep Maddie on-side throughout this process.
She strolled up to the door, looking elegantly cool in her white jeans, white Converse and blue T-shirt. Her V-neck exposed the skin on her chest nicely, and I tried not to stare. Her blonde hair licked her face like sunshine. Maddie knocked on the door, before sticking her tongue out at me.
I laughed as I unlocked it. “Sticking your tongue out? Really? Very mature.”
“I never claimed to be mature.”
She never claimed to be sexy, either, but that was the only word on the tip of my tongue as I took in her tall physique and her toned, tanned arms. I also loved the lines of her body, flowing and elegant. I shook myself and walked over to one of our tall fridges, getting out the food I’d bought earlier. “I hope you’re hungry, because I went mad on the three-for-two picnic range in M&S.” My mum would kill me for paying full price.
When I looked up, Maddie’s gaze was focused; on what, I couldn’t determine. My arse? My tits? Me? Or perhaps it was the spinach-and-pea feta parcels in my hand she found alluring. I cleared my throat and decided to keep things business-like. Above board. It’s when you went overboard that things got messy.
“Who doesn’t love M&S food? Plus, I’m starving.” Maddie rolled her gaze down my body, then back up, stopping on my face. “I hope there’s something sweet to finish off with, too.”
I ground my teeth together. Focus! Focus back on the food, back on the moment, back on the picnic. “There’s cake, of course.” That’s what she’d been talking about, right? “Where are we going to eat? Bath?” Words were good to fill the air. Better than feelings.
Much better than feelings.
“I was thinking we could drive back to the Royal Crescent flat and picnic in the park. There’s a little festival going on tonight, so it’ll be lovely. I’ve even got a picnic blanket in my van. And it’s brand-new, so not dusty at all.”
“Are you trying to impress me?”
“I might be.” With that she gave me her famous grin and I bit the inside of my cheek.
Then a thought occurred to me: I needed to reply to an email about the new empire. I’d been meaning to do it all day, and plain forgot. I frowned. “You mind if I send off a quick email about the new place? Otherwise, it’ll be on my mind all night. I’ll be five minutes.”
Maddie shook her head. “Be my guest. I know what it’s like running your own business, remember?”
She did, didn’t she? That was another tick in the Maddie box. Was I keeping score? Apparently.
“Plus, I want your full attention later.”
Had her voice got lower, too? It seemed that way. I exhaled. “I’ll be quick.”
Fifteen minutes later, I packed up the food into a cooler, put in some cake and gave it to Maddie. Our hands touched as I did so, and it was like a pressure valve being released under my ribs. I caught my breath. We both stared. All I could hear was the boom of my heart in my ears. I wasn’t going to shake, that would be ridiculous.
I cleared my throat before I spoke. “I’ll switch everything off and lock up. You go out to the van.”
She nodded, poking her tongue into the side of her mouth, before doing what she was told.
I’d turned all the lights off and was by the door when Maddie appeared again, still with the picnic in her hand. She was wearing a frown.
“Everything okay?” I already knew it wasn’t. I glanced down the road. Her van wasn’t there.
She was shaking her head. “Can you believe my van’s been stolen? I only got here like 20 minutes ago.” She came inside and put the food down, her body taut. “How could it be stolen when we were right here?” She blew out a long breath, walking up and down the studio before turning to me. “This is really not what I need at the moment. That van’s got all my stuff in it.” She paused, a hand tangling in her hair. “Do I call 999? Is it an emergency?”
I held up a hand. “I don’t think so, unfortunately.” A dawning realisation sank through me. “Also, I don’t necessarily think it’s been stolen. The council are over-zealous when it comes to towing. Gemma’s car’s been done a few times, as has Rob’s.”
“In such a short space of time?”
“It only takes five minutes.” I sighed. “Sorry, this is my fault for holding us up.” I walked back towards my office. “Shall I get the number of the car pound first and see if it’s been towed? Once we establish that, then we can report it stolen if it has been.”
Maddie was nodding. “Yes please. At least if it’s been towed, I can get it back.” She shook her head. “So much for our romantic picnic.”
I stopped, a warmth flooding through me. I turned to Maddie. “It was going to be romantic?”
She blushed, looking a little startled. “All picnics a bit romantic, aren’t they?”
I didn’t push her.
We got the number of the car pound, and after being put on hold for ten minutes, Maddie was told that yes, her van had been towed. Her relief was palpable. She signalled she needed a pen and paper, and when I gave it to her she scribbled something down, before hanging up.
“Little fuckers must be waiting to pounce.” She threw her head back. “But at least it’s not stolen.” Another long sigh.
“It’s a triumph, of sorts.” I gave her a peppy smile. “So what now? Should I drive and you can pick the van up tomorrow?”
She furrowed her brow, shaking her head. “The thing is, I need the van early tomorrow. The guy on the phone said I could get it from this address in a couple of hours.” She held up the piece of paper. “Can you drive me there so we can get it? Sorry to bugger up our evening.”
I shook my head. “No problem. We can pick up your van, then carry on with our evening a little later than planned.”
“This wasn’t in the brief, was it?”
I shrugged. “Life doesn’t always go to plan, does it?”
Chapter 20
We drove over to Maddie’s family home, which was all sorts of weird for me. Probably for Maddie, too, but she wasn’t going to show it. Either that, or she had too much on her mind to entertain such thoughts. As we weaved through the streets, narrow and cluttered with cars, memories flooded my mind. Surprisingly, I found they only made me smile.
When we were at university, we’d come back here in the summer months. We’d both stayed at her mum’s house and my parents’ house, as well as house-sitting for friends when they were on holiday. Maddie and Diane had been so close, and a wave of something washed through me. The unfairness of life, perhaps? Of people dying too soon, before you got to say what you wanted to.
The house was a mid-terrace, three-storey affair, with an extension on the back with an amazing skylight. When I first visited more than a decade ago, it was the first house that truly took my breath away because of that. It was still the skylight and the kitchen I wanted to emulate when I bought my first home. Not having a kitchen skylight would be a deal-breaker.
I also recalled going to a party around here with Gemma a few years ago, and slowing down as I passed number 42. I’d wondered then about knocking on the door and saying hello to Diane, but had decided it might be a little weird. I wished I’d done it now, just to see her face one more time. Diane had been a one-off, so warm and welcoming to whoever arrived at her door. Some people touch you in life, and Diane had been one of those.
Her daughter was definitely another.
Maddie had her seatbelt off before I’d even cut th
e engine. “I need to nip in and get my documents, otherwise they’re not going to give me the van. The fuckers.” She turned to me. I could see there was a lot going on, and she wasn’t quite sure how to say it. “You want to come in?” Her words dripped with hesitancy.
“Only if you want me to.”
She frowned. “It might be a little weird, seeing as I remember bringing you back here before, and…” She glanced up at the bedroom window.
I knew what she was thinking, because I was thinking it too. It wasn’t something easily forgotten.
“But then again, it might be even weirder leaving you in the car.” She put a hand on the car door, then turned back. “Just so you know, Amos isn’t in a good way. He’s stage four cancer and it’s in his bones. He can get around, but he’s slow and in pain. So try not to react when you see him.”
I nodded. “Got it. Smile at Amos. Don’t think about you fucking me in the bedroom.” I hadn’t meant to say it, it just slipped out.
A semi-smile pierced Maddie’s face. “Something like that.” She turned to look at me fully.
The moment hung in the air for a beat.
Then two.
And then she opened the car door and got out.
I gripped the steering wheel, trying for the umpteenth time to make sense of where we were and what we were doing, but failing miserably. Only, I wasn’t all that miserable. It had crossed my mind briefly before, but being with Maddie made me… happy? Content? In the moment?
Maddie stuck her head back in. “Are you coming?”
It was something I could ponder later. I unclipped my seatbelt and followed her into the house.
The kitchen was just as I remembered it. Warm evening rays spilled in, laying the loved wooden table with sunshine. Mismatched chairs were neatly tucked underneath, and two candles stood in the middle. The walls were bright white, reflecting the light around the room, giving a sense of space. This is what I wanted in my life, and I’d forgotten. I made a mental note to remember when I got home.
“This hasn’t changed a bit.” I walked over to the heart of the kitchen, the thick wooden worktops smooth under my fingertips. “I remember your mum cooking up all her fabulous dishes right here. She was the first woman to make me a tagine, the first woman to give me couscous. She was a special woman, your mum.”
“In your culinary education, or in general?” Maddie smiled as she said it.
“Both.” My gaze bounced around the walls, strewn with Diane’s artwork, as well as family photos of Maddie, Harris, Diane, and Amos. Her dad was significantly absent, echoing his influence on her life. “Is it hard being here without her?”
Maddie took a deep breath. “Sometimes, but I like that Amos is still here, and I love having Mum all around me with her art. I can truly feel her in this room, you know? This was her favourite place, the one where she created stuff. Food, art, poetry.”
I glanced down at the kitchen tiles and saw the tell-tale splashes of paint underfoot. No sooner had Diane cleared them up, she’d created another. “I remember it well. Diane painting, cooking, drinking, laughing. She had so much love to give, so much to live for. Fuck cancer, frankly.”
Maddie gave me a sad smile. “You can say that all you like, but I think it’s still winning.” She paused. “I even thought about making that tagine recently, but then I remembered I couldn’t chop an onion. I got annoyed with myself then, so I started watching YouTube videos. And you know what?”
“You learned how to chop an onion?”
She shook her head. “No, I learned that people can make chopping an onion seem like such a monumental task. I thought it was just a case of peeling and chopping, but there are specific ways you have to follow so that your fingers don’t get chopped off. And I’m quite fond of my fingers, so I didn’t want to mess with that.”
“Understandably.”
“But then, the video kept stopping and I nearly sliced my hand off, so I decided to stick to using my food ordering apps and leave the cooking to the professionals. Everyone has a talent, right? Mine is not cooking.”
I laughed. When we’d been together, I’d done all the cooking, or we’d eaten out. “You were always good at baked beans on toast. You added Worcestershire sauce, which shows some kind of cooking ability. Plus, you once made lasagne and we didn’t die.”
I still remembered that Saturday so vividly it was like it was lasered onto my brain. We’d spent a lazy morning in bed, and had been up for a few hours when Maddie had produced her Italian-inspired opus. It was the only meal she cooked me in the whole time we were together, which is why I remembered it so well. I glanced up at her, my thoughts snagged on that particular memory, a gale of nostalgia ensuring it blew in the breeze. I knew my cheeks had reddened, and when my gaze caught Maddie’s, I wondered if she was remembering, too.
The meal wasn’t the highlight of that day. We were. The ease of life whenever we were together. Our carefree years.
Being back in this house was bringing them into sharp focus, and it was playing with my mind. Making me think that then was now. Making me think it could happen all over again. I broke our gaze and rolled my neck, not allowing myself to go there.
Maddie didn’t move an inch as she spoke. “I’ve made that meal precisely twice since. I made it for Mum once, and she was amazed. The problem is though, if one person cooks so much better than the other, what’s the point in the other one cooking? That’s what I found with you, with Mum, with anyone else who’s crossed my path since. Even Amos is a better cook than me.”
Outside the room, something creaked. Maddie looked up and walked over to the door. “Talk of the devil, sounds like he’s up.” She disappeared into the hallway, coming back moments later with a very frail-looking Amos. He’d shrunk since I’d last seen him, and looked far older than his years. He could only be around 60, but he looked at least ten years older.
He took a seat almost instantly, before holding out a hand. “Justine. It’s been a long time. You’re looking well.”
I took his hand and sat beside him. His hair was wiry and grey, his skin matching it in colour. He reminded me of an uncle who’d died a similar way: it looked like you could feed Amos every hour for the rest of his life, and he’d still never put on an ounce of weight. His maroon cardigan hung from his shoulders like there was nothing in it.
“Too long, Amos. I’m really sorry you’re not well. How are you feeling today?”
He took a deep breath before he spoke, and it rattled through his body, the sound filling the kitchen. “The same as most days. But it’s lovely that you’re here. And Maddie, of course. This girl’s been an angel since she came back, the living embodiment of her mother. I worry who’s going to take care of her when I’m gone.”
I blinked, swallowing down hard. Was this the moment where I was going to cry for the first time since Maddie left me?
When I looked up at Maddie, she was biting her lip and I could see she was trying not to do the same. “You’re not dead yet, Amos,” she told him.
He gave her an exaggerated shrug in return. “I feel like it most days.”
I put a hand on his arm and rubbed the pad of my thumb in circles. “You know what, you don’t need to worry. Maddie’s got plenty of friends who’ll be here for her.”
He clutched my hand in his, his blue eyes watery. “Including you? I know you’ve always been special to her, even though she may not always have shown it through her actions.”
I put my other hand on top of his and squeezed hard. I cleared my throat and steadied my breathing, sitting up straight. Had Maddie been chatting with Amos? It didn’t seem like something that might happen, and yet, life was turning out to be very strange lately. All the things I thought I knew had been turned on their head since James died. Because now, Maddie wasn’t the enemy.
When I glanced up, her eyes were glistening, and the expression on her face told me she wanted to wrap her uncle in cotton wool, to shield him from any more pain.
“Shall we hav
e a cup of tea and you can tell me all about what you’ve been up to in the past ten years?”
Amos smiled, and even that looked like that hurt. “I’d love that, if you’ve got time. I know you both lead busy lives.”
I looked up at Maddie. “We’re in no rush. Put the kettle on. I’ll go and get the cake from the car.”
Chapter 21
We left Maddie’s mum’s house — I couldn’t think of it any other way — around an hour later. Maddie made sure Amos was comfortable and had eaten what he could before leaving.
She sat quietly in the passenger seat clutching her documents. I had no idea what was going on in her head, but I realised now her life was far more complex than she’d initially let on. Then, I’d assumed she’d come back to make a quick profit in property.
But now, I saw that coming to James’s funeral must have been so hard for her, especially while caring for Amos in his time of need. It shouldn’t surprise me, but it did.
The modern version of Maddie had more in common with the one I’d met and fallen in love with all those years ago. She wasn’t a cartoon villain, and she certainly wasn’t the heartless bitch I’d conjured in my head. This Maddie was exactly the same as the one I’d pictured spending my life with. Which made it all the more odd she’d run off in the first place.
I still had so many questions. Perhaps tonight, now that it truly felt like I’d peeled back the curtain on her life, I could get some answers.
When we pulled up at the ‘car distribution centre’ (the car pound to its friends), the sun had long since disappeared from view. However, the air was still warm, carrying heat from the early September day. It reminded of my childhood, going back to school when it was still hot and all I wanted to do was carry on playing.
