River Deep

by Rowan Coleman

  ‘Oh for God’s sake,’ Sarah mumbled. ‘We’re not bloody Cagney and Lacey.’

  The door swung open and some kind of workman emerged with a ladder. He propped it against the wall and shinned up it to examine the first-floor window.

  ‘Workman on a Sunday,’ Maggie said with some satisfaction. ‘They must be desperate.’

  Sarah looked impatiently at her watch. ‘Look, she’s not coming out. She’s probably not even here. Let’s go—’ Before she could finish the doors swung open again and Louise, it had to be Louise, appeared, tipping her chin back to talk to the workman. Both Maggie and Sarah opened their mouths and gawped in silent unison. She was not what they had expected.

  The first thing they noticed was her hair. A golden blonde and perfectly straight, it fell to below her shoulders and was tucked back behind one ear. Her skin was a light gold, and even from her vantage point Maggie could see that her glossed lips were full and sultry.

  ‘Collagen,’ Sarah whispered, reading her mind. ‘Not sure about the tits, but silicon or not that girl is stacked!’ Both women observed the curves of her breasts, which tapered into a tiny waist and a flat stomach. She was wearing hipster jeans, but it was still obvious she had a perfectly rounded bottom and strong, toned thighs. ‘What was that I was saying about J-Lo?’ Sarah muttered. The conversation between Louise and the workmen over, she gave him a little smile and returned inside. She’d been visible for maybe twenty seconds.

  ‘Well.’ Sarah turned to look at Maggie. ‘That was a turn-up.’ But the space where Maggie had been standing was empty and Sarah saw that her friend had sunk on to the curb, head in hands. She sat down next her.

  ‘Hey, Mags?’ She rested her hand on her shoulders and felt them tremble beneath her fingers. ‘Come on. We knew this was going to be hard.’

  Maggie raised her head and took a gulp of air. ‘But she’s not, she’s not …’ She gestured wildly at the space where a few moments ago Louise had stood, as if her dimensions somehow still occupied the air. ‘She’s nothing like me. I expected her to be … similar, you know? I expected her to be Christian’s type, like I am. Like he said I was. She’s all … She’s really sexy and beautiful. Just look at her!’ Once again Maggie pointed at the empty pavement outside Fresh Talent 2. Sarah sighed with exasperation as she watched the workman glance in their direction, and helped her friend to her feet.

  ‘Come on, we’re attracting attention,’ she said, hooking her arm through Maggie’s. Maggie glanced back over her shoulder and shook her head.

  ‘I don’t know, Sarah, I just thought that if I saw her it would be obvious what it was about her that made Christian want her, and I could change myself to be like her.’

  ‘Well it is obvious why he wants her!’ Sarah exclaimed angrily. ‘Men are so predictable. All they want is bits and bobs to play with.’

  ‘Yes but, but she’s the opposite of me. She’s …’ Maggie cupped her hands in front of her bust. ‘And all …’ She couldn’t find the words, but Sarah knew she was referring to the San Tropez tan and full-lipped smile. ‘I can’t compete with that. All these years I thought Christian really loved me and wanted me. Stupid, skinny, flat-chested me. And all along he wanted a … a … bombshell! I’ve been on borrowed time since day one!’

  Sarah put her arm around Maggie and brought her to a standstill.

  ‘That’s not true, Mags. Look, I know I’m not Christian’s biggest fan, but I know how he looked at you when you were first together, and for most of the time you were a couple. He thought you were the bee’s knees. He loved every bit of you.’ She paused a moment before adding, ‘You know what I think? I think this Louise is just a reaction against you. Just a really bigarsed, cowardly way of getting you out of his head. OK, so she’s a stunner but that doesn’t mean you aren’t. You’re really beautiful in an unusual way. She’s just … well, she’s just pretty in a very obvious way,’ Sarah finished, realising that her word hadn’t come out in exactly the way she’d planned. Reaching into her pocket she pulled out a tissue, which she spat on and rubbed roughly under Maggie’s eyes.

  ‘Now come on, can you pull yourself together for the kids? Let’s go shopping and forget all about this until we get home tonight, and then you and me’ll crack a few bottles of wine and rip the brassy tart to shreds into the small hours, OK?’

  Looking at Maggie’s face, Sarah instantly regretted her tough love approach of earlier. Perhaps reality smacking her friend in the face like a wet fish was the last thing she needed. Maybe it would have been safer to keep her delusional for a couple of weeks longer, just until she started to feel better about herself and had a few rebound snogs under her belt. This was too soon.

  ‘You know, you have to stop all this crying,’ Sarah said to her gently. ‘It’s going to give you wrinkles.’

  Maggie raised a weak smile and took a deep breath as they headed back into the café.

  ‘Mummy!’ Sam jumped up and hugged his mum hard round the hips.

  ‘At bloody last!’ Becca exclaimed, eyeing Maggie closely. ‘Well? Was she a total slapper?’ she asked matter-of-factly.

  ‘Total,’ Sarah said on behalf of her friend. ‘Now, enough of that language and let’s go shopping!’

  ‘Well.’ Sarah topped up Maggie’s glass and handed her another biscuit. ‘It’s a modern miracle, but Becca’s in bed reading and Sam’s fast asleep. I think we managed to shop Becca out.’ She sat down next to Maggie. ‘You didn’t have to buy her all that stuff, you know. I mean, I know you’ve got that cash coming, but you’re still out of a job.’

  Maggie smiled wanly and sipped the wine.

  ‘Yeah, well, Sam got a few things too and I like to buy her stuff, she deserves it. She’s a good kid really, you know,’ she told Sarah, who nodded silently. ‘Anyway, it looks like that cash is going to be gone before I even get it.’ Maggie told Sarah about The Fleur and her early investigations into its finances.

  ‘Oh my God! That’s terrible!’ Sarah said as Maggie finished. ‘They could be out of a home and a business and everything?’

  Maggie nodded. ‘Yeah, pretty much. I haven’t really gone into it yet, what with one thing and another.’ Maggie briskly put the image of Louise out of her mind. ‘But it doesn’t look hopeful. So the cash … well, luckily the creditors can’t get their hands on my money so I guess I’ll have to find us a place to live and set us up while I get a job.’ Maggie gave Sarah a heavy-lidded look over the rim of her glass. ‘Don’t things happen in threes? Dumped for a sex bomb, made homeless twice in a row … What’s next?’

  Sarah shook her head. ‘You’ll be fine, Maggie. Look at everything you’ve achieved in your life so far. You’re young. You’ll pick yourself up and get back on your feet really soon. This is a beginning for you, not an end!’ she insisted, and then continued, ‘Oh fuck it, let’s just get pissed. Maybe when we sober up things will have got better.’

  ‘I don’t think we can stay drunk long enough,’ Maggie said, holding out her empty glass. ‘But I’m prepared to give it a go.’

  Chapter Twelve

  ‘I’m sorry, Mum, Dad.’ Maggie looked at each of her parents in turn, feeling a little breathless. Although it was still early, the air in the bar was thick with heat. ‘I spent all of Monday going over and over this again and again, but the fact of the matter is I can’t see a way out of it. I think you’re going to have to declare yourself bankrupt.’

  Keith shook his head and looked at Marion who reached for his hand and squeezed it hard.

  ‘I mean, look around you,’ Maggie added looking around the bar. ‘The place is empty except for you and me. That pretty much says it all.’

  ‘But what are we going to do, Maggie?’ Marion’s voice trembled. ‘Surely there must be something we can do to turn things around. Decorate, maybe? There’s some paint in the cellar …’

  Maggie shook her head grimly. ‘I’ve been through it again and again. First of all you’d have to catch up with your loan repayments, and that’s all but twen
ty grand.’ Maggie scrutinised her parents. ‘Where did that money go? It certainly wasn’t into this place?’

  Her parents exchanged a glance.

  ‘Well, your brother got himself in a bit of a fix, and then …’

  Maggie held up a hand. ‘Don’t tell me, I’m already in enough trouble. I don’t need a fratricide charge added to the list.’

  She took a deep breath and silently cursed her free-loading brother; instead of rebelling against her parents’ free-wheeling, hands-off style of parenting he’d made the most of it by manipulating and abusing them at every possible turn. What other man in his twenties would expect his parents to take out a loan to pay off his debts? She tried to get back on track.

  ‘Then, even if we could pay that off you’d have to right things with your current suppliers just to keep the place going and to get credit with new suppliers. Say another ten grand. And then we have to make a dent in the overdraft. A big one. I did look at reopening as a really good gastro pub. I mean, the location is fantastic and premises like these are really rare these days. But even if we’d cleared all those other problems, my money would barely refit the kitchen to a good enough standard, and that would only be possible if we bought reconditioned and second-hand stuff. To really overhaul this place we’d be looking at two hundred and fifty thousand pounds. If we ignored the pool room and just refurbished this room to begin with, we’d still need fifty or maybe sixty grand. And that’s assuming we’d already fixed things with the bank and your creditors.’ Maggie sighed and glanced around her. ‘I’m sorry, Mum, but there’s just no way we can pull it off.’

  Turning, she noticed Sheila standing in the doorway, a tray of steaming mugs in her hands.

  ‘I’m sorry, She,’ she said, crossing to take the tray, ‘but you’ll be retiring a bit earlier than you thought. At least I know you kept your pension going.’

  And they all sat round the table sipping tea in silence and exchanging glances.

  Maggie watched the warm water run in rivulets over her hand as she rinsed the mugs out. She’d had to leave the oppressive gloom of the bar, leave the sight of her parents holding each other’s hands across the table, facing silently the suddenly terrifying black future. Even Sheila had remained silent for once, smoking her cigarette with diligent concentration. What Maggie couldn’t understand was why it felt like her fault when she hadn’t even been here? Then she realised why. If she had been here, things might have been different.

  ‘He died two years ago, my Bill.’ Sheila appeared in the kitchen doorway, making Maggie jump. Bill was Sheila’s estranged husband, but why bring him up now? Maybe it was the shock, Maggie thought.

  ‘Would you like a brandy, She?’ she asked. ‘I think we can still run to that.’

  Sheila shook her head and sat down at the table, lighting another cigarette in one fluid movement. ‘Of course we never got divorced, did we? He didn’t have any family or friends. None that would go near him, anyhow, the miserable old sod.’ She paused, smiling grimly. ‘It was three weeks before anyone found his body, fallen down the stairs. Quite far gone by that time apparently. Caused a bit of a stink, and his yuppie neighbours went round to complain. Saw him through the letterbox.’

  Maggie opened her mouth but Sheila stopped her.

  ‘He’d been living in that house all his life – it was his parents’ before his. Nothing special. Just a terrace – three bedrooms and a cellar. Little yard out the back. I prefer modern myself, like my flat. It might be small but it’s got all the mod cons.’

  Sheila looked at Maggie’s expression of slight alarm.

  ‘Of course, as his wife I got the lot, didn’t I? It came as a bit of a shock, I can tell you. I heard he’d snuffed it, but it was a shock when I heard about the money. Two hundred and seventy-two thousand pounds.’ Sheila smiled. ‘The bastard paid out in the end. I bought my place with some of it, and I gave a bit away to the East End Women’s Shelter. I thought that’d really rub him up the wrong way.’ She smiled. ‘That left over a hundred thousand, give or take.’

  Sheila looked at Maggie.

  ‘You’ve been like a daughter to me, Maggie. When I first came to this old pile of bricks it was all right, I got by. But when you and your family came, well, I was pretty low then, and you all gave me something to look forward to. I was part of something again, you made me feel like part of your family. I really felt that.’

  Maggie smiled and put her arm around Sheila’s shoulders.

  ‘You are part of the family, and I know what you’re going to say, She. But we can’t take your money. You’ll need something to fall back on, especially now.’ Maggie looked at her seriously, her eyes brimming. ‘Sheila, you’re a wonderful woman, and the best and dearest friend to us, but there is no way we can take your money. None. I’m just relieved to know that you’ll be all right.’ Sheila shook her head, slamming her hand down on the table.

  ‘But I don’t need it, Mag. I own my place. I got myself a good pension. What I’m trying to say, Maggie, is that all that money … well, I was leaving it to you in my will.’

  Maggie opened her mouth and found that nothing would come out.

  Sheila nodded her head in the direction of the bar. ‘I thought those two wouldn’t need it because, well, let’s face it, we’re all going to kick the bucket around the same time, and as for Jim, well, I think giving him any cash would be another excuse for him not to do anything with his life. It had to go somewhere, so why not to you? I want you to have it.’

  Sheila’s eyes were suddenly bright with tears.

  ‘Whenever I think of my little one, the little girl I lost, I see your face. You know I love you don’t you? Silly old fool.’ Sheila shook herself. ‘Anyway, it turns out that despite the fags I’m in good health. Blood pressure is fine, heart’s fine, lungs fine. I might be around for another thirty years yet.’

  Maggie covered Sheila’s hand with her own. ‘I bloody hope so,’ she said, her voice tight.

  ‘Well, I’d rather see you do something with it now, while I’m still here, than have you all suffer when there’s no need.’ Sheila cupped Maggie’s face in her hand. ‘What I’m saying is, if you think it’s worth investing what’s coming to you in this place, then you can have the money now.’

  Maggie looked at her in silence, unable to think of a single thing to say.

  ‘Sheila, I can’t. This is … it’s too much. It’s too easy. It’d be like having this Christmas fairy dropping in a few months early and …’ Maggie stopped. ‘It’s an incredible gesture, but it’s too much.’

  Sheila stubbed out her cigarette and folded her hands.

  ‘It’s not too much,’ she said grimly. ‘It’s not enough. It’s not enough for all the times he beat me, all the times he broke me, all the times he … It will never be enough.’ Sheila looked into Maggie’s eyes. ‘If I’d married someone else, if I’d been born a few years later … But you and your family have given me the life I thought I’d never have. If you care about me, Maggie, about everything I went through, you won’t throw away a chance that I never got. Not because you think it’s too easy, anyway. Not because of that.’

  Maggie felt a tear trace its way past the corner of her mouth.

  ‘OK,’ she said, pushing back her chair. ‘Let’s go and have that brandy and see what Mum and Dad say.’

  A few moments later, Keith and Marion were listening to Sheila’s plan with open mouths.

  ‘All right Mum, Dad!’

  Jim greeted them heartily and slapped his sister on the back.

  ‘All right sis?’

  Maggie glared at him.

  ‘Why the long faces, as the barman said to the horse?’

  Maggie turned her back on him. ‘She, you have to think this through a little more. You know how much you mean to me. Are you really sure? Whatever happens, you know we’ll get by. We don’t need your life savings to do it. You’ve been the best friend to me, so I can’t just take your money lightly. Not as there’s a very good chance we�
�ll lose it all!’

  Sheila pressed her lips into a thin crimson line.

  ‘You’re not taking it, I’m giving it you. I’ve made my mind up and I won’t be shifted. You show me what you can do, my girl, you make me proud. Now talk it over while I go on my break. I’ll be back before the lunchtime “rush”.’ Sheila bustled out, leaving silence and shadows in her wake.

  ‘Bloody hell! Has Sheila just given us some money?’ Jim looked after her. ‘How much?’

  Maggie turned to look at her younger brother. Tall and blond like her father and quite heavily built, she had never understood his seemingly limitless appeal to women. Maybe it was her parents’ money, which he spent with a compulsive disregard for where it came from. She turned to her parents.

  ‘I have to go after her and talk to her. I don’t think she realises what she’s just offered!’ Maggie said, and grabbed her bag as she headed for the door, leaving her family struggling to catch up with the morning’s roller coaster of events.

  ‘Sheila! Sheila, She!’ Maggie shouted, finally halting Sheila’s fast-paced walk on the last shout. She stopped in her tracks and turned around, lighting a cigarette as she waited for Maggie to catch up with her. Maggie was out of breath when she arrived.

  ‘I thought I told you to talk it through with your mum and dad?’ Sheila said as if she’d asked Maggie to choose whether or not she wanted chips for tea.

  Maggie shook her head and fell in step beside Sheila.

  ‘I’m nipping into Boots, I need some new lippy, so you’ll have to keep up with me,’ Sheila told her.

  ‘How is it,’ Maggie struggled to breathe, ‘that you’ve smoked forty a day for God knows how long and are still as fit as a fiddle?’

  Sheila blew smoke out of her nose as she considered the question.