by kendra Smith
‘Right, sit here.’
He placed a soft hand towel around her neck as she sat down on the chair. She had told him where to find her shampoo and conditioner upstairs, and he had assembled it neatly next to the sink.
‘Make sure you don’t use the Fairy Liquid on me!’ She laughed, feeling very vulnerable in a strappy T-shirt.
He smiled. Well, at least that was something.
Maddie leant her head back as Greg stood next to her, his leg pressed against her shoulder, to reach in the sink behind her. He used a plastic cup to pour warm water over her head, then gently drew the palm of his hand over her head. Next, he dribbled shampoo over her hair and she closed her eyes, sliding into the sensation of the shampoo being rubbed into her scalp, his soothing, large hands, massaging her head, caressing the back of her neck, the warm water rinsing away the shampoo, his hands chasing the water down her hair, squeezing the water out, rinsing, then repeating the whole process.
He was humming softly to himself and she smiled. He was incredibly gentle with her, making sure that he never burnt her with scalding water, and carefully dabbing away some soapsuds from her forehead with a towel. He reached across at one point to turn off the tap, and she had had the most erotic sensation of his chest right above her mouth. She knew what lay beneath: lopsided nipples, a tiny trail of hair from his belly button down to…
She looked up at him and held his gaze. ‘This brings back memories.’
He glanced at her then looked away and carried on rinsing, one cupful after another, getting into a rhythm: water, then he’d run his fingers through her hair, then squeeze it out, water, squeeze, repeat. He started to rub the back of her neck with his thumb, just like he used to do all those years ago. She could feel herself melting under his touch and was almost asleep, drifting off to the magical feel of his warm hands, the sweet smell of her jasmine shampoo filtering into the air, when she heard a bang on the door.
Greg stopped what he was doing, put a towel over her head and patted it. ‘Hold on,’ he said and went to the door.
And then she heard it: the shouting.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’
It was Ed. Excitement and nerves clashed together in her chest. She got up quickly, felt the towel fall to the floor as she darted to the front door. He wasn’t due back for a week!
‘Ed!’ She grinned as he walked past Greg and gave her an enormous hug.
‘What’s he doing here? I thought Lauren was helping you?’ Ed nodded towards Greg.
‘She had to go to the States. Her mother was ill. I didn’t tell you,’ Maddie said, wiping dripping water from her forehead, ‘because I didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t want you to feel you had to come back or anything.’ She put an arm across her chest, aware that her top was flimsy and slightly damp. She felt angry with Ed for shouting at Greg, who was putting on his coat silently behind her, yet she felt excited to see Ed at the same time. She shook her head.
‘Ed, look—’
But he barged past her and went straight up to Greg.
‘What on earth are you doing in my mother’s house? You should get out. Haven’t you done enough damage?’
She watched as Greg visibly flinched, a small twitch in his left eye, that same twitch he’d always had when he was stressed. Suddenly she realised what Ed had said: he’d used the same words as her mother all those years ago. Haven’t you done enough damage?
Greg stopped putting on his coat and looked up at Ed. ‘Look, I know we don’t see eye to eye—’
‘You’re too fucking right we don’t—’
‘Ed!’ shouted Maddie.
‘Listen, Ed.’ Greg’s head jerked up. ‘I’ve been here because I’ve been looking after your mum – she asked me to.’
Ed glanced over at Maddie who nodded.
‘I had no choice, Ed. I wouldn’t have been able to cope at all without Greg; you’ve been away, then Lauren had to go. He’s been amazing.’
Greg’s eyes darted in her direction.
‘Actually, I nearly lost my job coming here—’ he began.
‘Greg! I didn’t know that.’ Maddie frowned at him.
‘It’s fine, we’re just very-short staffed at the centre, but I couldn’t just leave you like this, could I?’ And with that Greg pushed past Maddie and Ed and walked out the front door.
*
An hour later, Maddie and Ed were sitting on the sofa watching some old film, neither of them with the energy to discuss things any further. They had avoided the subject because Maddie realised he was tired, emotional and had just got off a fourteen-hour flight. They’d kept to how the blessing had gone, Ed had shown her a few more photos, explained that Adity was staying a bit longer as her granny was on assisted breathing now; the doctors had said days apparently, he sighed. They discussed the flight, how he was making a trip to Exeter later in the month. Ed had opened some cans of tomato soup as she’d attempted to put a brush through her hair.
She glanced out at the garden, at the newly cut grass and the freshly weeded borders, the last rays of sun spreading its fingers along the wooden fence, and she bit her lip. The two people I love the most in the world are at loggerheads. She sighed, turning the volume up on the TV. They sat with soup and toast on trays together, with Taffie curled up by their feet, staring at the TV, but neither of them watching it.
62
A couple of weeks had passed and she hadn’t heard a jot from Greg. She’d gone back to the café to work a few part-time shifts. It looked like Lauren wasn’t coming back from the States – her mum was too ill – and Sue needed the help. Ed had been pottering about at the cottage. He’d fixed the old shed, but seemed to be allergic to weeding or cutting the grass. He had also taken a trip to Exeter to look at accommodation for him and Adity and visited the university bookstore to buy some of his course books, which had been had more expensive than he’d realised, plus he’d had to put a deposit on a flat. His money from his odd jobs travelling was drying up. He’d been stomping around the kitchen making a cup of tea, after his bank rejected his overdraft application earlier that morning.
Maddie couldn’t afford to give him much money She frowned. Her wages just about paid for her food every week. She was being cautious with the money Olive had left her. Maybe when she sold Maris Cottage there would be enough to give Ed a bit of a hand with his university costs, but then there would be his student loan to pay off, too. Damn Tim, she thought, remembering all her savings that had been squandered.
‘I need to get a job, something around here,’ Ed had mumbled to her that morning.
‘I’ll look at the noticeboard at the café,’ she’d said as she left. He’d been hunched over his computer on his bed and he looked up from his screen. ‘Adity’s coming back next month and we need a month’s rent in advance for that bedsit.’
Later, as Maddie was wiping down some surfaces at the café counter and rearranging the day’s baking – fairy cakes with swirls of creamy vanilla icing; cream eclairs, which made her smile, thinking of Olive; generous squares of homemade millionaire shortbread with a thick layer of toffee; a stunning thick Victoria sponge – she heard the little bell on the door go and looked up. A man she vaguely recognised from the sailing club who’d been at Olive’s blessing walked in, wearing pink shorts and a jaunty, striped polo neck. He was in his late forties probably, with sunglasses round his neck on a string.
‘Hello, what can I get you?’ Maddie beamed as he came up to the counter.
‘Ooh, these look nice – let’s have an eclair and a cappuccino, thanks.’
Maddie started to warm the milk for the coffee and put an eclair on one of her hummingbird plates and took it over.
‘Weren’t you at Olive’s funeral?’ the man said, taking the plate from her.
‘Yes. I, erm, scattered the ashes.’
‘Oh, I remember.’ The man smiled. ‘And these were her favourites.’ He pointed to his eclair.
‘They were.’ Maddie nodded.
‘You’ve got a job noticeboard, haven’t you?’ he said to her as she put them on his table. ‘Can I leave this for you to put up?’
He handed Maddie a small piece of card with a job advert on it.
‘Wanted: deck hands. Water sports centre/sailing club.’
‘Sure.’ She took it from him and went to put it on the noticeboard. It was a long shot, but she quickly took a photo of it with her phone and sent it to Ed.
She then went into the back room and leant against the wall. How long till she could get back to painting her pottery and firing it properly? She looked at her hands. A while yet. She didn’t want this to fizzle out; she’d worked so hard at it. Maybe there was another way to paint but not fire it till she could do it properly. She closed the door of the room behind her, feeling a wave of exhaustion hit her. It was time to head home.
*
Maddie woke up with a start. That noise? She couldn’t place it? Oh yes, it was the lawnmower. She was on the sofa. She must have fallen asleep. She glanced at the clock: four o’clock. Since she’d been back working at the café on and off, it took it out of her. Ed was away on an Open Day at Exeter and trying to fix up a loan from the local branch there. She hauled herself up on her elbows to look out the window. Then her heart did a little lurch.
Greg was methodically walking up and down the lawn, leaving a neat white line on the patch of grass. Round he went, stop, then the other way, then stop. Sweat glistened across his broad shoulders as he wiped his face with the back of his hand.
He must have come down the side of the house when he couldn’t get an answer from her and taken the mower out of the shed. Maddie stood up slowly and stretched. She wandered through to the kitchen and carefully reached for a jug from the cupboard and attempted to fill it up with water and cordial. She went to the back door and opened it, letting in a cool breeze. The lawnmower was loud and she followed Greg’s profile with her eyes, taking in every last bit of him: the broad, golden shoulders, the tanned legs in shorts, the way his hair poked out from beneath his baseball cap, that tiny area at the nape of his neck where the hair met the neck and he kept it short. She shivered, recognising a desire in her that she was trying hard to ignore.
As Greg turned around he caught sight of her, held her gaze, then abruptly carried on till he reached the end of the lawn and cut the engine. He detached the grass collector and threw the contents into the compost area behind the makeshift shelter.
As he wandered over lazily towards her, she caught her breath. ‘Hey.’ He smiled. ‘Did I wake you? I glanced in at the window when there was no reply from the door – you were flat out.’
‘I was tired.’ Maddie’s fringe lifted in the breeze. ‘Serving cappuccinos all morning with one hand is hard work.’
‘Must’ve been – you were dribbling.’ His face was deadpan.
‘God no!’ Her hand flew to her mouth as she heard him burst out laughing.
She rolled her eyes at him. ‘I’ve made some juice – thirsty?’
He nodded. Maddie went back to the kitchen and poured out some juice into tall glasses, the ice cubes clunking as they toppled out. She took the glasses out to the garden and they sat on the stone steps. Greg lifted the glass to his lips and downed the whole lot in one go, the sinews in his neck twisting as he swallowed.
‘Greg, you know the job that’s advertised at the café, for the centre?’
He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Yeah, we had someone in, but they were dreadful. We need someone right away. Trouble is, anyone good is already working around the island.’
‘I was thinking, I mean, Ed is—’
‘Ed? He’d rather kill me than work for me. The lad hates me,’ he said putting his glass down on the step with a clink.
‘It will take time, Greg.’
‘And whose fault is that?’ he flashed.
Maddie winced. She deserved that.
‘Sorry,’ Greg muttered.
‘What if he wanted the job?’ Maddie eventually ventured.
Greg shrugged. ‘If you like. Yeah, tell him to come along,’ he said taking his hat off, wiping his brow and placing it on his knee.
‘He’s really broke and needs to save for the honeymoon, for university, for the student loan.’ She sighed wistfully. ‘They’ve got their whole life ahead of them.’ She quickly realised what she’d just said.
‘Yes, they do.’ Something in Greg’s voice had changed. He sat up straight then turned to her and fixed her with an intense stare. The hairs on Maddie’s neck stood up and she had to look away. That kept happening. One minute they were getting on like old times, the next, the bubble was burst. She couldn’t blame him, but sometimes, like picking at a scab, she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to go over it with him, make him understand. She reached out and touched his knee.
‘Look, Greg, I know we’ve been through this, but you have to believe me. I didn’t feel I had a choice; I didn’t want to trap you.’
‘You didn’t give me much of a choice, Maddie, did you?’ His voice was rising. ‘Can you imagine how I feel, how I’ve felt. I’ve had a son I’ve never known, never been able to get to know – until now – and he hates me. I had a right to know!’ He picked up his empty glass and threw the ice cubes onto the grass. Then he stood up. ‘I’d better go. This was a stupid idea, coming here today.’
‘No Greg, it wasn’t, I—’ Maddie stood up and faced him.
‘What?’
‘I’m really glad you came. I’m always glad to see you.’ She looked him straight in the eye. ‘And it’s not because of my hand,’ she said quickly as his expression altered – just a bit – but she saw it. She was just about to reach out and touch his arm but something her made her stop.
‘Well, I’m not so sure, Maddie,’ he said placing his baseball cap back on his head. ‘I just don’t – I don’t know, I’m not sure if I can get over it.’ He held her gaze for a long time, and then walked away.
And as she watched him stride down the garden Maddie wished for the thousandth time that she could rewrite those chapters of her life.
*
By seven o’clock she’d put a ready-made lasagne in the oven for her and Ed and was just waiting for it to cook. Her notebook was on her knee and she was looking out to the bay, making small sketches of the waves and the gulls overhead. Wafts of rosemary, garlic and onions seeped into the lounge. She could hear Ed upstairs, clattering around. He was back from Exeter and was filled with renewed vigour about his course. He’d been looking through some of the boxes that had lain under the stairs all summer, searching for a few of his personal items.
‘Mum?’ Ed came into the lounge carrying one of the boxes, breaking her concentration.
She looked up at him from the sofa. ‘Hmm?’ His eyes were raspberry-red. ‘What’s up?’
He sat down next to her and put a small black box on the table in front of her. ‘You need to see this.’
‘What is it?’
‘Jesus.’ He bowed his head, and then looked up at her. ‘Have a look.’
He pulled out the device from the cardboard box.
Her mouth felt dry; she sat up straighter and looked at what was in his hands.
‘It’s an interactive camera and sound system I set up at the house a while ago. Dad, Tim, whatever – anyway he put it in ages ago, but never got it working. I set it up properly before I left for Bali, as I knew you’d be home alone quite a bit what with Dad being away on his wine trips and business meetings all over the country like he usually is.’ Ed shrugged. ‘I was worried about you – I was going to tell you.’ He smiled. ‘But then you popped up, in Bali.’
She tilted her head to one side. ‘And?’
He looked sideways at her. ‘I had one facing the front door, and there are sound detectors in the kitchen. It was just in case someone broke in. I got an alert on my phone. You can see footage from the camera if you log in to their website.’ He screwed up his face. ‘Which I just did. Dad didn’t know either.’ He turned and put a war
m hand on her arm. ‘That’s the problem.’
She looked at his big hand covering her forearm. The hand that now had the lotus tattoo. She used to hold that hand. She used to tug at it to get him to carry on, on a walk, when he was distracted looking at birds in the trees, or very sure he’d seen a hedgehog under a hedge. Of course they live under hedges, Mummy, they’re called hedge…hogs! She was taken back to the smell of sun on his cheeks that day, coupled with the scent of newly cut grass.
‘What problem?’
Ed pressed a play icon on some video footage on his phone.
And there, right on their front doorstep of their home in Little Rowland was Tim, in an extremely explicit embrace with a long-haired blonde – presumably Linda.
Poor Ed. She hadn’t wanted to tell him. He had enough to deal with, after all.
‘I know,’ she said in a quiet voice. ‘I worked it out, but I didn’t want to hurt you anymore.’
And with that, his hand was squeezing her arm again, his head bowed and eyes closed, tears leaking out. ‘What a complete bastard.’
63
The next day she and Ed were on the beach in the late afternoon enjoying the early August sun. He’d told her he needed to get out; surfing was a release for him. Poor Ed. What must he think of his ‘father’ now? He was surfing further up the bay and she’d gone out to watch him and bring a towel. She stood looking at her boy, effortlessly commanding the sea beneath his red surfboard, the waves under his control. The sand was crumbly under her bare feet as she walked to the shore. She enjoyed the icy waves lapping over her toes, and instinctively clasped her hands together and rubbed them. They had healed well, but would always have tiny white scars, no matter how much cream she slathered over them at night. She could just about use both hands properly now.
She looked up; Ed was powering across a wave, riding it high. He turned, then eventually crashed into the water. The freedom of it made her wince. He had his whole life in front of him. Ed rode another few waves, and then, slowly, paddled on his surfboard towards the shore, stood up and waved at her. Taffie was wandering in and out between her ankles, snuffling in the sand and barking at the waves.
