Limits

by Susie Tate

  ‘Make yourself at home,’ he said as he watched the greedy bastard slap the last of the ham on top of the brie he’d been saving for later.

  ‘El came over to see Libby ’cause she’s worried,’ Jamie told him, talking around a brie-and-ham-filled mouth. ‘As you’re in self-involved-broody-mode your bloody phone was off so I had to bring her round here.’

  ‘I think …’ El paused and tilted her head to the side. ‘I don’t know how much you know about Millie’s parents?’ Her expression was guarded and her eyes had narrowed. She was obviously torn between her concern for her friend and her desire not to betray Millie’s confidence.

  ‘I’ve met them,’ Pav reassured her. ‘I promise I know all about them.’

  El blew out a relieved breath. ‘Right, great, well, you’ll know that it’s not a great idea for Millie to have any contact with them.’

  ‘Yes,’ Pav replied with conviction.

  ‘She came to me this week asking for an outfit she could wear to a press conference.’

  ‘What?’ Pav exploded; if he’d been holding another bottle it would have gone the same way as the first.

  ‘I think it has to do with her father,’ El paused. ‘I tried to get more information out of her but she clammed up and … well, I didn’t want to push her, she seems … fragile: really pale, thin, and she said the outfit had to have long sleeves. I caught sight of her forearms when I was adjusting one of the jackets and …’ El trailed off and bit her lip, glancing between the two men, obviously unwilling to betray another confidence.

  ‘What about her arms?’ was Jamie’s barely interpretable reply as he continued to plough through his massive sandwich. Pav ignored him; he was struggling not to punch something, hard.

  ‘I’ll sort it,’ he told El through gritted teeth and with his trademark confidence, which at the moment he was very far from feeling.

  *****

  ‘Uh … I’m just heading out so …’

  Libby narrowed her eyes at Millie and put her hands on her hips. Hilariously Rosie mimicked her gesture exactly, but with an added five-year-old foot-stomp. Beauty just gave a big hurrumph as she pushed her nose into Millie’s crotch in greeting. Lurking behind them all was an apprehensive-looking Kira.

  ‘I haven’t seens you in ages,’ Rosie’s grumpy voice whined from the doorstep. Millie’s cool expression softened significantly as she looked down at the little girl.

  ‘I know,’ she said, her voice holding more than a hint of strain and her hand dropping unconsciously to the top of Beauty’s head. ‘I’m sorry, Rose-Pose. I just …’ She trailed off and swallowed, then surprised Libby by taking a step back to open the door so they could all step through. Libby could smell cleaning fluid in the air, and as she followed Millie through to the living room she frowned when she saw the meticulous throw cushion arrangements and immaculate space. Libby knew that Millie cleaned and organised when under stress; judging by the state of her house her current anxiety levels must be through the roof.

  ‘Rosie, Kira,’ she said as she walked over to the sofa. ‘Go take Beauty into the garden for a minute. I need to do some grown-up talking with Millie.’

  ‘Great idea, Libs,’ Kira said, backing away towards the garden door. ‘Grown-up talk’s not my forte.’

  Rosie however scowled at her mother before skipping to Millie and giving her a hug. Beauty lumbered that way as well and sat her massive backside down on Millie’s feet. Millie looked startled for a moment, then a tiny smile broke through her strained expression. She laid one hand on Rosie’s head and the other on Beauty’s.

  ‘Rosie,’ Libby said in a warning voice. Rosie huffed but released Millie after another few seconds.

  ‘I needs to do grown-up talkins with Millie too,’ she said indignantly as she flounced to the back door with Beauty in her wake to grab Kira’s hand. Once they were out of hearing distance Libby took Millie’s cold hand and pulled her down to sit of the sofa. She could feel Millie stiffen under her fingers, but Libby had waited long enough to confront her, and she wasn’t going to back off just because she knew it made Millie uncomfortable.

  ‘Right, now then,’ she started. Millie had withdrawn her hand and was avoiding her gaze, preferring to look at the coffee table instead. ‘We’re going to get a few things straight.’

  Libby saw Millie frown in confusion and flick her a quick, bemused glance before looking away again. Progress, Libby thought. Anything that broke through that bland, ice-cold expression was progress.

  ‘Since you won’t answer your phone to me or reply to any messages anymore, I’ve come to see you in person. I’ll get straight to the point: I’m bloody furious with you.’

  That got Millie’s attention. She sat up in her seat and looked away from the coffee table and straight at Libby.

  ‘You’re furious with me?’ she asked, total confusion and a little anger in her expression now. More progress, Libby thought.

  ‘Yes.’ Libby clipped, and then softened her tone. ‘I thought we were friends, Millie. You can’t just cut people out of your life. That’s not the way this works.’

  ‘But … but I …’ Millie trailed off and her eyes darted away again. Libby sighed.

  ‘I was friends with you before you even started seeing Pav. Before the idea of this bloody conference came up.

  Millie bit her lip and shook her head. ‘I didn’t … I mean, I offered to help with Rosie and …’

  ‘And you thought that was why I spoke to you? You thought I was using you to – ?’

  ‘No,’ Millie interrupted, shaking her head more vigorously now. ‘No, I never thought that. I was lucky to spend time with Rosie. I knew I was lucky. Now you’re doing a medical attachment you don’t need me to help so …’

  ‘Oh, Millie, what am I going to do with you?’ Libby groaned. ‘Of course we still need you. Rosie’s missed you, I’ve missed you; the bloody dog has missed you. We care about you. You were never just convenient childcare. And you know that I never gave two shits about any bloody conference so there’s no excuse for cutting me out.’

  ‘Oh … I …’ Millie pressed her lips together and swallowed again. ‘Okay,’ she said, her voice slightly hoarse, ‘I’m sorry … I just didn’t realise that you’d want to …’

  ‘Pav told me about the money.’ Millie flinched and stiffened again, which almost made Libby regret bringing it up, but she wanted complete honesty with her now. ‘He told me last week when he was drunk at our place doing his sad-case, heartbroken routine – which by the way I also blame you for. The last thing I need is a six-foot moping Greek man getting in my way of an evening.’

  Millie blinked at Libby and her mouth dropped open in shock. ‘Moping?’ she whispered. ‘You think he’s moping … over me?’

  ‘Well of course it’s over you,’ Libby snapped. ‘I’ll tell you what’s given that away: you dumping him coinciding perfectly with the start of said moping and the fact that he bangs on about you continuously. I think that’s pretty strong evidence.’

  Millie turned away from Libby and stared into the middle distance for a long moment.

  ‘Right, that’s enough about Moody Greek Boy,’ Libby said briskly. ‘I’m here to talk about you and me.’ She leaned forward and took Millie’s hand, softening her tone. ‘Why did you set up that fake grant, Millie?’

  Millie started in obvious shock and bit her lip. It was a good minute before she could reply.

  ‘You needed it.’ Millie shrugged. ‘You deserved it.’

  ‘When you started the payments you barely knew me.’

  ‘Libby,’ Millie said, turning towards her and this time making direct eye contact, ‘I barely know anyone. If you hadn’t noticed I’m not exactly a social butterfly. I could see you struggling. I admired how you were coping and what a good mother you were despite everything. I have … I have a lot of money.’ She shrugged. ‘It made sense to me. It was logical.’

  Libby huffed out a frustrated laugh. ‘You can’t just start transferring large amount
s of money into somebody’s account because it fits in with your brand of logic. That’s craz –’

  ‘Did you know that the first hug Rosie gave me was the only spontaneous gesture of affection I’d had since my nanny left me when I was seven?’ Millie told her. Libby took in a sharp breath and she squeezed Millie’s hand tightly.

  ‘Looking after Rosie meant something to me, Libby. Your friendship meant something to me.’

  Libby swallowed and blinked back the stinging in her eyes. ‘Right,’ she said, her voice gruff with emotion. ‘Well, let’s stop playing silly buggers then. I’d like you to talk about our friendship in the present tense if you don’t mind. And I will be paying you back all the money I owe you.’

  ‘Libby, I –’

  ‘Every penny, Millie. And you have to stop the payments.’

  Millie bit her lip.

  ‘Millie,’ Libby said slowly in a warning tone. ‘You should know that Jamie’s feeling pretty emasculated since he found out you’ve been supporting his wife. It’s almost worth it for that, to be honest.’

  Millie smiled and Libby finally felt like she was getting somewhere. She took a deep breath and tried to ignore the ache in her chest when she thought of an affection-starved seven-year-old Millie.

  ‘Now, I’m a hugger, Rosie’s a hugger, and Kira is definitely a hugger. We’ll have to set up some sort of cuddle schedule because you’ve got a lot of making up to do.’

  Millie let out a startled laugh and Libby decided that was all the green light she needed. She lurched forward and snatched her up in a fierce embrace, which, to Libby’s relief and after a long second, Millie returned.

  Another set of arms engulfed them both in a crushing grip. ‘Group hug!’ shouted Kira, who had thrown herself bodily onto both of them on the sofa. ‘I knew you’d see sense, Professor X. As if I give a crap whether Dick-Boy gets to talk at his willy-fiddler conference, you loco lady.’

  ‘What’s Dick-Boy?’ a small voice asked as Rosie’s body launched over the back of the sofa into the middle of the enforced group hug.

  ‘Ki-Ki, can you please at least try not to load her up with the type of ammunition that gets me called into see her Reception teacher?’

  ‘No promises, my lovely, no promises.’

  Rosie’s small hands found their way up to Millie’s cheeks and she proceeded to squeeze them. ‘I missed your face,’ she told Millie.

  ‘I missed your face too, little louse,’ Millie whispered.

  ‘Ki-Ki,’ Libby said.

  ‘Yes, my beautiful friend.’

  ‘This is becoming uncomfortable now. Remember we talked about boundaries.’ If anything Kira’s grip tightened and she kissed Libby, then Millie, and then Rosie on the cheek.

  ‘Boundaries, schmoundaries,’ Kira said, swaying the whole group from side to side. A loud woof interrupted her swaying and a wet nose pushed under their arms. Once Beauty’s huge head had worked its way on top of all their laps she closed her eyes and started to shake it from side to side, her drool flying into the air around her and causing everyone to spring apart.

  ‘Way to spoil the moment, Beast of Bodmin,’ Kira grumbled, wiping a globule from her cheek. Libby gave Millie, the clean-freak, an apprehensive look but to her surprise she was still smiling. Then Millie buried her face in Beauty’s fur and her body started shaking with muffled laughter. Libby took her hand and gave it a squeeze and this time – this time – she squeezed back.

  Chapter 32

  Every word, dear

  ‘Push me faster, boy,’ Gammy shouted from her chair.

  ‘Any faster and we will literally break people’s legs,’ Pav told her through gritted teeth. ‘We’re nearly there anyway.’

  ‘No thanks to you and your dawdling.’

  Pav rolled his eyes and turned the corner into the entrance of the hotel. He wasn’t exactly sure what Gammy meant by dawdling. If racing over to her residential home, explaining the situation at supersonic speed, then loading her and her wheelchair into his ill-equipped car and nearly breaking his back in the process was dawdling, he’d like to see how fast Gammy usually travelled to her weekly outing at the day centre. Pav doubted that the overweight minibus driver he’d seen earlier lifted Gammy bodily into his vehicle, or that he drove at double the speed limit through London. The foyer was full of people holding cameras and sporting lanyards with Press written on them. Pav powered through to make it to the information desk.

  ‘I need to see the Morrisons,’ Pav told the stressed-looking receptionist, who just rolled his eyes.

  ‘You and every other bugger in town,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid that the –’

  ‘Young man.’ Gammy’s commanding tone cut through the noise of the foyer as she pushed herself up to a wobbly stand next to Pav, who supported her arm, taking nearly all her weight. ‘Firstly, you are a representative of one of the oldest hotels in London. I hardly think that the word “bugger” should be present in your vocabulary.’

  ‘I –’

  ‘Secondly, I am certain there will be a problem if you do not allow Mr Morrison’s mother to support him before this very important press conference.’

  The receptionist’s eyebrows went up in challenge.

  ‘Pavlos, my handbag,’ she said. Pav jumped into action, grabbing the huge leather bag from the back of the chair. Gammy snatched it from him and began rummaging in its depths. ‘Ha!’ she shouted after a good few minutes and a number of questionable items, including some ancient-looking boiled sweets, five pairs of reading glasses and what looked like a dead cat, which shocked even Pav until he was assured that it was in fact a hat, had been dumped in front of the less-than-pleased receptionist. ‘There you are.’ Gammy’s wrinkled, papery hand was brandishing a piece of paper so old it wouldn’t have looked out of place next to the Magna Carta. ‘My marriage certificate.’

  The receptionist took the paper tentatively from Gammy and examined it. ‘Right, yes,’ he mumbled, still unsure how to proceed.

  ‘You’ve met my son I assume?’ Gammy asked.

  ‘Er … well, yes, he …’

  ‘Arrogant, demanding, awkward bastard, isn’t he?’ The other man’s mouth fell open. ‘Well, if you think he was bad before, imagine how upset he’ll be when he hears that his elderly mother was kept waiting in her delicate condition.’ Nothing about Gammy appeared in the least bit delicate in that moment, but the receptionist seemed to make a decision and picked up his desk phone. A few minutes later, and with Gammy back in her chair, they were efficiently whisked through a conference room and into a large waiting room.

  ‘What on earth … ?’ Valerie Morrison’s sharp voice cut through the low murmuring in the room. Pav stopped in his tracks, his eyes swept through David Morrison with his two advisers, and he focused in on Millie. She was standing next to her mother, dressed in an immaculate cream suit, with her hair in one of the elaborate but severe styles that Pav disliked and a piece of paper gripped in one of her hands.

  Gammy, obviously not in the mood for any more ‘dawdling’, ignored her son and daughter-in-law, addressing the only person in the room she cared about.

  ‘Millie, child,’ she said in a commanding voice. ‘We. Are. Going.’

  Millie blinked, her eyes flicking from Pav to Gammy and back again, her face creasing in confusion. ‘Gammy, what are you doing here?’

  ‘Taking you home, you ridiculous girl,’ Gammy told her.

  ‘But … but …’

  ‘Mother,’ David Morrison’s exasperated voice cut in, and Gammy finally deigned to look his way. ‘I’m about to do an extremely important press conference. May I ask, respectfully, what the bloody hell you are doing here?’

  Gammy rolled her eyes. ‘Boy,’ she said, and Pav suppressed a laugh. Mr Morrison must have been in his late fifties at least, and about as far from a boy as humanly possible. ‘You wouldn’t know what was “extremely important” if it smacked you around the face with a wet fish.’

  ‘Mother M.,’ Valerie Morrison started in
a sickly sweet voice, a painful, forced smile on her face. ‘Isn’t this wonderful. Why don’t we have a lovely catch-up just after David has finished talking to the pesky press people.’

  ‘Oh do shut up, you poisonous excuse for a woman,’ Gammy snapped, refocusing on Millie and softening her tone. ‘Come on now, child. Time to go with Gammy.’

  ‘But …’

  ‘They lied to you, Millie,’ Pav put in, reading the worry and confusion in Millie’s eyes. ‘They can’t take Gammy out of that home. Even if she loses the capacity to make her own decisions, she has made an advance directive that only you are allowed to make medical and financial choices for her.’

  ‘Did you really think I would put these idiots in control of my future? I may have made some mistakes bringing up this one,’ Granny M. made an impatient gesture towards her son, ‘but that doesn’t mean I didn’t learn from them.’

  ‘Well, I –’

  ‘Honestly, why not just come to me about it?’

  ‘I didn’t want to worry you, Gammy,’ Millie said, snapping out of her frozen shock to move forward, around her father, and then kneel in front of Gammy’s chair.

  ‘I’m not a helpless doddery old fool,’ Gammy said, softening her tone and laying her good hand on Millie’s cheek. Millie leaned into the hand, closed her eyes and nodded. ‘Always wanting to make everything better, keep everyone happy; ever since you were a child. Time for you to be happy now.’ Millie opened her eyes and to Pav’s shock they were glistening with tears. One escaped and fell onto Gammy’s hand. ‘That’s it,’ Gammy muttered, wiping the tear away. ‘You live your life now. You let yourself feel.’ Millie nodded again and then fell onto Gammy in a fierce hug. When she finally released Gammy, Millie drew back and her eyes caught Pav’s for the first time.

  ‘Camilla.’ Valerie’s abrasive voice cut across the room but Pav and Millie didn’t break eye contact. ‘I’m sure we’re all pleased to see your grandmother, but family reunions can wait. I want you to get up and come with us into that conference room, like we agreed.’ Millie started to rise from the floor, her eyes unreadable but still fixed on Pav.