Right Here Waiting for You

by Pugh, Rebecca

  *

  By the time she’d dropped Esther off at school the following morning, Sophia had already heard from Simon. He seemed eager to meet her and had been texting her non-stop ever since the first message had arrived the previous evening while Sophia had been cooking Esther’s dinner in the kitchen. She’d frowned at the unknown number when it had popped up on-screen, until he’d signed the message off with a friendly ‘Simon x’. The conversation had flowed easily between them since, and Sophia was enjoying chatting to someone new and getting to know him.

  Simon was thirty-one and worked at a call centre full-time. He’d said he couldn’t wait to take her out and was nothing but kind and complimentary, but the thought of having to meet him face-to-face and find something to talk about while sitting opposite him sent nerves raging in her stomach, and she wished, not for the first time, that she’d turned down Cath’s offer as soon as the kind woman had made it. Now Simon had her number, Sophia knew it would be almost impossible to get him to delete it. And alongside all those dating worries was Michael, and what he’d think, and what he’d say.

  Part of Sophia, the stupid romantic part that still believed in ridiculous fairy tales and non-existent happy-ever-afters, imagined that the thought of her going on a date would make Michael jealous, but then the rational part of her mind kicked in and she saw sense once again. After all, he’d been pushing her to dip her toe into the world of dating recently, simply because he was being brave enough to do it himself and wanted her to be brave too. So he wouldn’t be jealous. If anything, he’d be happy for her.

  So, why did she feel so miserable since he’d announced he was venturing into the world of online dating? Why did she feel jealous? It wasn’t like she’d ever made him aware of her feelings. She’d kept it all inside, telling herself she was simply waiting for the right moment to arrive, but the thing was, the right moment had probably passed her by and now she’d gone and stuffed the whole thing up.

  Once her morning shift at the post office had finished, Sophia headed home. She needed to find something to wear for the fast-approaching reunion. Just a week to go, so she was hoping next-day delivery was an option. With her legs tucked beneath her and a hot cup of coffee at her side, she eyed the items on-screen, but she wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for.

  A couple of hours passed, leading Sophia nicely into early afternoon as she went from one retail site to the next, trying and failing to imagine herself in any of the dresses that caught her eye. Just when she was about to give up, she paused and looked twice. On the screen was a simple yet gorgeous floor-length, backless black dress. She eyed it in contemplative silence for a few seconds, wondering whether she’d be able to pull it off. She wasn’t sure she’d ever worn anything like it before. It was classy. It was sexy without revealing too much. Not too expensive either, so Sophia decided to go for it, and once she’d added a pair of black stilettos to her basket, along with a sparkly black clutch, she proceeded to the checkout with a sense of accomplishment.

  *

  The next morning, Sophia spotted Michael waiting for her at the school gates. They walked together to the café once free of their kids.

  ‘You’ve had a haircut!’ Michael remarked once they were sat opposite each other.

  ‘I’ve had a haircut,’ Sophia confirmed. ‘It took you long enough to notice. I no longer resemble a cavewoman so that’s good. I suppose I felt I needed to spruce myself up for the reunion.’ She smiled and felt the urge to ask rising. ‘How’s the online dating going? Have you wooed any women yet?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ laughed Michael with a shake of his head. ‘Things don’t move that quickly in the world of online dating, trust me. Hey, maybe you should join the site I’m on?’

  Sophia rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t be silly. What on earth would I want to do that for? Anyway, there’s no need now because I’ve got myself a date. A real one.’

  ‘What? Wow, that came out of nowhere. Who is he then? Where did you find him?’

  ‘When I popped into the salon yesterday, Cath and I got talking and she asked if I fancied taking a chance on her grandson. His name is Simon and we’ve been texting. He seems nice. We haven’t arranged a date yet but I think I might actually be looking forward to it. It’ll be nice to be taken out. I sometimes feel like my world is so small, so I’m excited about meeting someone new and getting to know them. Who knows? He might even turn out to be the man of my dreams.’

  ‘I’ll be right back. Better hit that queue before it starts filling up in here.’ Michael got up and went to order their drinks.

  When he was back in his seat, Sophia smiled across at him. ‘So, what do you think? Am I brave or what? Enough about me though, what’s happening with you? Any potential matches?’

  Michael shrugged before answering. He seemed distracted. ‘Not yet. I’ve had a few messages and friend requests, but that’s about it really. As I said, the world of online dating doesn’t move too quickly. Not as quickly as things move for you, clearly.’ He raised a brow.

  ‘That’s okay though. It’s probably better that way in the grand scheme of things. You don’t want to go rushing into it, do you? More chance of disaster striking that way. Plus, you’ve got Harry to think about. If you’re serious about meeting someone, then they’ve got to be good for Harry too. It’s hard when you’ve got a child and you’re trying to meet someone new. There are so many things to consider.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he nodded. ‘I suppose so. I was serious about you joining up, by the way, even if you have hooked yourself a fish already. It might be good for you, broaden your horizons that little bit more.’

  ‘Maybe. I’m not entirely comfortable with the idea of it though. Those people you’re speaking to could be anyone. Serial killer. Stalker. At least with this Simon guy, I have Cath’s good word. I trust her instinct with people. I’ve known her for a very long time and she wouldn’t put me in a situation that could potentially end up being dangerous.’

  ‘Wow, you’ve really thought about this, haven’t you? I guess what I’m trying to say is that you’re an attractive woman, Sophia. Let someone out there appreciate it.’

  The church was packed out. Helena had been adored by so many people in Worthington Green, and every one of them had turned up today to pay their respects.

  Sophia was sitting beside Magda at the front, and Helena’s coffin was just ahead of them. Charlie was beside his daughter, staring vacantly ahead. Magda’s pale, trembling hand was within Sophia’s, and Sophia squeezed it, letting her best friend know that she was there.

  The service was beautiful. Sophia cried along with Magda, holding her tightly and whispering again and again how sorry she was and that she would always be there. Magda didn’t say much back to her, but so long as she knew she wasn’t alone in this, Sophia thought that was enough.

  Once the service ended, and Helena’s coffin had been lowered into the ground, everyone went back to her home for the wake. It was a subdued affair, and people talked among themselves while Charlie didn’t know what to do with himself. Sophia felt awful for Magda. She needed her father but Charlie wasn’t with it at all. Still, she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose the person you’d spent your entire life with.

  Tom was there too, and Sophia stayed at his side. Magda kept flashing glances at them, smiling sadly. Tom gave her a friendly hug afterwards, when the house had begun to empty. Magda cried into his shoulder and seemed to linger in the embrace. Sophia had known then that what Magda needed was a friend; and right here, she had two of them.

  Chapter Seven

  Magda’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as she neared her father’s house. Once she’d parked the car, she climbed out to take a better look at the place and dismay washed over her. She wrapped her arms around herself, needing a hug. It looked… terrible. Nothing like the home she remembered growing up in, that was for sure. The windows were grubby and in need of a good wash, and the stone path that led t
owards the weathered and beaten-up porch was near invisible beneath the weeds that had overtaken it, poking through the gaps and growing like wild things. The curtains were closed too, she noticed, and the swinging chair she’d loved to rock back and forth on once upon a time was now lopsided, the chain having snapped free on one side.

  Magda hardly knew where to begin with how seeing the house in this way was making her feel. Gutted, upset, but most of all horribly guilty. Perhaps if she’d visited sooner, her father would have tried to keep on top of it all? Would have had something more to live for? A reason to get up and get going. But no, she couldn’t think like that. He was a grown man and she was a grown woman with her own life to lead. Still, the guilt gnawed away at her, making her shift uncomfortably as she stood there outside the house and tried to figure out what to do next. Now she’d arrived, she felt rather out of her depth, which was silly considering the man inside was her father.

  It didn’t look like he was here anyway, if the drawn curtains were anything to go by. She’d gather her belongings from the boot of the car and then try a knock at the door. It’d do more good than simply standing there. With a renewed sense of determination, Magda did exactly that. She made her way nervously up the path, or what she thought was the path, seeing as she couldn’t actually see it for the wild weeds that grew there, and stood on the porch, eyeing the broken swing to her left sadly.

  In an odd way, the swing reminded her of herself. Broken, left dangling in the breeze, unused and left to rot away as time unceremoniously slipped by. She was feeling sorry for herself and needed to snap out of it. She turned back to the door, just as unattractive as the rest of the place, and summoned up the courage to knock. Three short raps before she stood back and waited for something, anything, to happen. The seconds went by achingly slowly. Magda waited. And waited. When she could wait no longer, she decided to knock again, only louder this time. It seemed to work. Movement could be heard from somewhere behind the door, followed by a gruff clearing of a throat. Her father. She’d know that sound anywhere.

  ‘Who is it?’ He didn’t make an immediate move to open the door; instead, a bulky shadow was visible behind the glass pane as he stood there waiting for a reply. ‘What do you want? I don’t want to buy anything so bugger off.’

  ‘It’s… It’s me, Dad. Magda.’

  He didn’t reply. His form on the other side of the glass remained still. Eventually, Magda heard the sound of the chain being let loose and, before she had time to prepare herself, the door was flung open and there he was. Her old man. Charlie .

  ‘Magda? What are you doing here?’

  It wasn’t exactly the welcome she’d been expecting but this wasn’t a fairy tale. Of course he’d be curious, perhaps even wary of her sudden arrival. It had been so long since she’d last visited, so this was to be expected, she supposed.

  ‘I’ve come back. To stay for a little while. I was hoping… Well, I was hoping I’d be able to stay with you for a bit, if you don’t mind me being here?’

  Charlie looked too stunned for words. The beard he was sporting was huge. He looked a little scruffy, and Magda noticed the style of shirt he’d been wearing for as long as she could remember. A little on the baggy side, even though he was a man of stocky build, patterned with gingham. His eyes searched her face wildly as if he needed more of an explanation. ‘Is everything okay? Are you in trouble?’

  Magda laughed. ‘No, of course I’m not in trouble. There’s a school reunion taking place soon, here in town, and I wanted to come and see you too. It’s been too long. But everything is okay, you don’t need to worry.’ She was tempted to wrinkle her nose at the musty smell escaping through the open door from behind her father. She hoped the inside was in better shape than the exterior would have someone believe. She loved this house so much. ‘So, is it okay? If I stay for a while?’ She smiled hopefully, preparing herself for the door to slam in her face. But, still speechless, Charlie took a step back to allow Magda inside.

  ‘Sure. Sure. Come on through.’ He shook his head to himself as Magda walked past him with her suitcase.

  Charlie followed behind her down the dimly lit hallway. She glanced about at the photos on the walls, then looked ahead at the doorway to the kitchen. There seemed to be at least a little sunlight pouring into that room through the windows, and from where she was standing, she couldn’t spot any piles of dirty crockery or washing. A small tide of relief washed over her. At least he was washing up after himself, so that was something.

  ‘God, it feels weird being back here.’ Magda let go of her suitcase and decided to venture into the lounge. She let loose nervous laughter. Everything was still exactly the same as it had been before she’d left. She spotted Charlie’s armchair positioned just to the side, allowing him a perfect view of the TV screen. Atop the arm of the chair sat the remote and, on the side table next to the chair, there was a half mug of tea. ‘Still your favourite chair?’ She turned to Charlie. He was hovering in the doorway.

  ‘Sure is. Best seat in the house, that one.’ He summoned up a weak smile. Rubbed the back of his neck. His discomfort was evident. ‘Can I get you a drink? Coffee? Tea? It must have been a long drive down here.’

  Magda smiled. He was trying. ‘A coffee would be brilliant, thanks.’ Charlie disappeared down the hall so Magda continued her perusal of the room while he was busy. It wasn’t as bad as she’d imagined when she’d been stood outside. For some reason, she’d expected it to be much worse. Although, she thought to herself as she moved towards the drawn curtains and whisked them open, a little sunlight wouldn’t do any harm, surely?

  ‘Here you go, kid. Two sugars, right?’

  ‘Right,’ she smiled. She took the cup gratefully and sat down on the only other available seat, which was a tired, two-seater sofa squished against the wall. A few old newspapers had been plonked down next to her.

  ‘Listen, Magda, I don’t mean to sound like a prat, but… why are you really here?’ Charlie sat down in his armchair. He looked up at her as he asked the question and she realised then how tired and old he looked. Dark circles beneath his eyes told her he’d had more than a few sleepless nights. Wrinkles cracked their way across the skin beside his eyes. Her stomach clenched painfully at the sight of him, looking so sad and alone in that stupid bloody chair. She knew, then, that she should have made more of an effort to come back and see him. To remain close to him, no matter what Greg said. He was her father and she his daughter, and he’d been her best friend growing up. She missed that bond they’d once shared, and hated herself for playing a leading role in allowing it to be broken.

  Magda swallowed, hoping the action would shift the painful lump of emotion that had become lodged in her throat. She stared down into the mug of cooling coffee. ‘I just… I guess I missed you, Dad. I suppose the reunion gave me an excuse to come back and see you, not that I really needed one, but… you know. We hadn’t spoken in so long. Things felt awkward. You didn’t call.’

  ‘You didn’t call either. I waited. I hoped you would.’

  Magda sighed. ‘I know, I’m sorry. I guess life just ran away with me. I wanted to call you to see how you were but the longer I left it, the harder it became. It’s been tricky.’

  ‘Well, I guess you’re here now,’ Charlie said with finality. ‘That’s all that matters, isn’t it? Drink your coffee. It’ll end up going cold.’

  She did as she was told, not failing to pick up on the coldness in her father’s voice. They sipped their drinks in silence, and not one of the comfortable variety. Her hopes of being welcomed back to the family home had been well and truly dashed. Suddenly, she didn’t feel so comfortable sitting there in the living room of the house she’d grown up in. In fact, she was half tempted to gather her belongings, jump back into the car, and return to the house she’d left behind with such relief that very morning. She swallowed the final mouthful of coffee, which, true to Charlie’s words, had gone cold, and couldn’t help wondering if the fro
sty atmosphere had helped it along.

  Magda didn’t feel like herself. She was grieving for her mother, but it felt like she was grieving for her father too. It sounded odd but, since Helena had passed, Charlie had disappeared, and in his place was a man Magda didn’t know or recognise. He hardly spoke anymore. He’d stopped working, taking early retirement, and now spent his time staring off into the distance, lost to his thoughts. He was a shadow of his former self, and Magda didn’t know what to do. She felt horrible saying it, but she couldn’t stand to be around him when he was like that. He wasn’t her dad. He was someone she didn’t know at all.

  Sophia was trying her best to be there for her, but Magda felt as if she was slipping away from everyone. She didn’t laugh or joke, she hardly ever smiled, but Sophia remained by her side, refusing to give up on her. Magda felt like she didn’t care about anything anymore. She hated Worthington Green. She hated the fact that the only time she could see Helena now was by visiting the cemetery and speaking to a headstone. Everything had turned to shit.

  She felt like running far, far away and never looking back. She didn’t feel like life would ever be good again. She wanted her dad to come back. She knew he was hurting, but she was too. She needed him. But he was gone.

  Chapter Eight

  ‘Just one week to go!’ Michael sang cheerily when she arrived beside him at the school gates for afternoon pick-up. They began a slow walk, their respective children skipping just ahead of them, side by side, up the road and away from the school where parents lingered in small groups to chat. ‘I can’t believe it’s come around so quickly.’

  ‘I know, it’s mad. Feels like it was only yesterday we received the invites. I’m actually looking forward to it, in a strange sort of way. It’ll be nice to see who else turns up. Fingers crossed it won’t be just me and you standing at the bar, looking helpless.’ She laughed at the thought of it.