Becca’s eyes widened in horror.
‘Mum!’ She turned to Aidan. ‘She makes me sound like I’m a total airhead. But I’m not, I like reading too. And I like writing stories and stuff, sometimes, although they’re not … very good or anything.’
Becca faltered to a halt, and Maggie racked her brain for any one of the hundreds of things that should have been obvious to cover the silence.
‘I like poetry,’ Aidan said. ‘Do you write poems? Love poems to your boyfriend?’
Becca squirmed. ‘No,’ she said flatly. ‘And anyway, I’m too young to even have … a … boyfriend?’ she finished uncertainly, her cheeks flushing as she finished the longest speech she had made in front of her father.
Aidan chuckled and leaned a little closer to her. ‘Gracie would love a boyfriend, but she’s only eight. I wish she were as sensible as you! You know there are two little girls in Boston over the moon with excitement about having a long-lost big sister. They can’t wait to meet you, and neither can my wife Fran.’ He paused. ‘So is there anything you want to do while I’m here?’ he asked.
Becca stared at her plate, probably thinking, Maggie guessed, that it shouldn’t be up to her to decide. ‘Don’t know,’ she shrugged. ‘You decide.’
Aidan glanced at Sarah, who smiled at him. ‘What about the London Eye? My guide says it’s really something.’
Becca looked up and nodded. ‘Yeah, all right,’ she said.
‘Maybe Madame Tussauds?’ Aidan began.
Becca rolled her eyes. ‘No way! I’m not queuing for hours with all the stupid tourists!’
Aidan smiled and Becca flushed. ‘Where else, then?’ he asked. ‘Any ideas?’
Becca glanced around nervously. ‘I wouldn’t mind going to the Tate Modern.’
‘Where?’ Sarah could not hide her shock. ‘You’re not interested in art, are you?’
Becca scowled at her. ‘I might be. This boy at school said it was cool …’ She trailed off and all three adults said ‘Oh, I see,’ to themselves simultaneously.
‘The Tate it is, then,’ Aidan said.
‘Thanks … um, Aidan,’ Becca said. ‘I’m glad you came.’
That hadn’t been the end of the awkward pauses or the strained silences, but it had seemed to mark their gradual decline and the beginning of a new friendship.
They said goodbye to Aidan at the hotel. He arranged to take Becca out for breakfast the next morning.
As soon as they’d headed back to the salon, Becca had started talking and still hadn’t stopped when Marcus dropped off Sam an hour after they got back. He’d stood and listened as Becca gave him a speed-speak, potted version of her day in a sixty-second package.
‘Cool, Becs,’ he said with a smile when she’d finally paused for breath. ‘I’m really pleased it went so well for you, darling.’ He gave her a bear hug, lifting her clear off the floor. Sarah waited for him to tuck Sam into bed and then made them all a cup of tea.
‘Sounds like you did the right thing,’ Marcus said to Sarah when Becca had disappeared into her bedroom to phone all her friends.
Sarah nodded. ‘Yeah, I think it was the right thing, not just for Becca but for all of us. I think we can all move on from this now. I’m just sorry I didn’t have the guts to do it years ago.’
Marcus shrugged and, picking up his jacket, leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. ‘So am I,’ he said just before he left.
‘He so loves you still, the mentalist,’ Maggie told Sarah when Marcus had gone.
‘He does not! That was years ago,’ Sarah said with a laugh. ‘He has girls chase him down the high street throwing their knickers at him. He’s a single fireman for God’s sake, he has the sex life most men only dream about. He’s certainly not pining after me when he could have any passing twenty-year-old!’
‘Sarah, he asked you to marry him. You could have married him! Anyway, it’s obvious he still feels something for you – it’s written all over his face.’ Maggie crossed her arms. ‘I think he still loves you, and we know he loves your daughter like she was his, and he loves his son more than anyone in the world except maybe you. You were insane for not giving him a chance when he asked you. Maybe now you’re so keen on doing the right thing, it’d be a good time to try again with him. After all, he hasn’t got anyone serious in his life, has he? He’s fair game.’
Sarah shook her head and looked at Maggie as if she were insane.
‘You’re insane! Even if I was … hypothetically … interested in him he wouldn’t be now. He’s playing the field, enjoying himself. I mean, even if I did – in theory – think I might care about him, there’s no point in thinking about it. You should know you can’t go back in life, Maggie – you have to keep going forward even when it hurts you. Anyway, this is me we’re talking about. I don’t do relationships.’
Maggie shook her head and picked up her bag.
‘No, the you who thought some eighteen-year-old kid with spots was the only man you could ever love, that you didn’t do relationships. The thirty-odd-year-old you with the two kids, the successful business and a new start could do relationships if only she’d give it a go. It might go wrong! So what? You have to give these things a try, Sarah, or you’ll regret it!’
Maggie stood up and put her hand on her hips, enjoying having the moral high-ground for the first time in ages. Sarah looked her up and down, clearly unimpressed with her stand.
‘I tell you what,’ Sarah said with a small smile. ‘I’ll agree to go out with Marcus the next time I see him if you ask out that Pete bloke. We can double-date.’
Maggie fell off the moral high-ground and sat back down with a plonk.
‘I can’t ask him out. His fiancée is back. She came back and I went round there to see him and talk to him and stuff and they were … in bed.’
Sarah sighed and reached over to pat Maggie’s knee.
‘I’m sorry mate, but you’re not that upset, are you? It was just lust, wasn’t it?’
Maggie looked at her hands.
‘Yeah, it was just lust. And the way he laughed and the funny feeling I got when he smiled at me and the fact that when I was with him I felt like I was on a first date with someone I’d known all my life. That sort of thing.’
Sarah looked at her. ‘Mmmm,’ she said.
‘Mmmm?’ Maggie replied. ‘What does Mmmm mean?’
‘It means this isn’t another double-bluff to get Christian back, is it?’
Maggie looked abashed. ‘No it is not!’
She wondered if now was a good time to tell her about Carmen, but decided that best friends didn’t need to know everything about each other. Not if there was a chance of her ever having the moral high-ground again. ‘No it is not,’ she repeated. ‘I know it can’t happen, but I think that … well, I think that it’ll take me a long time to stop thinking about that kiss, that’s what I think.’
Maggie stood up again. ‘I’ve got to get back to The Fleur, but listen, you never did give it a try with Marcus in the first place. You met him, you had his son and then when you found out he wanted both of you, you ran a mile. You never went anywhere. This is a new beginning for Becca. If there’s still a chance, let it be a new beginning for you too.’ Maggie gave Sarah a hug. ‘Just promise me that if Marcus asks you out again, you won’t turn him down, OK?’
Sarah shrugged exactly like Becca would.
‘Promise?’ Maggie pressed her.
‘OK, OK!’ Sarah rolled her eyes and, raising her right hand, recited, ‘I promise if Marcus asks me out again at anytime in the near future I won’t turn him down.’ She dropped her hand. ‘But he won’t. No way. And you promise me that if you get the chance to tell Pete how you feel, fiancée or no fiancée, you will, OK?’
Maggie kissed her friend quickly on the cheek and then raced down the stairs two at a time and on to the street.
‘OK!?’ Sarah shouted after her.
‘OK!’ Maggie called back, pulling the shop door closed. ‘But I won’t get a chanc
e, so it doesn’t matter,’ she mumbled to herself, and then smiled. Marcus was still standing by his car looking up at the flat. Maybe this was her chance to get Sarah going again.
‘Trust me,’ Maggie said lightly, ‘stalking’s not all it’s cracked up to be – I know.’
Marcus laughed and looked at his feet.
‘I was just thinking, that’s all,’ he said. ‘About stuff. I don’t know, Maggie, I still feel that …’ Marcus closed his mouth as if stopping a secret from escaping. ‘Never mind, I’ll get off now. I’m on shift in half an hour.’
As he opened the car door, Maggie put her hand on his arm, deciding that she could try just one more meddle before she gave it up for good.
‘You know what I think,’ she said, glancing up at the flat window. ‘I think that if you were, say … going to ask Sarah out again, for example, you know, if you were … then I think that she’d probably say yes this time. If you were going to, that is. Oh, and we never had this conversation, OK?’
Marcus looked at Maggie and then back up at the flat. Both of them felt the same little thrill of fear.
‘Really?’ he said.
‘Really,’ Maggie said, giving him a good luck punch on the arm. She’d left him there standing by his car, plucking up courage. If he did go back up there it certainly would take a lot of courage. She just hoped Sarah didn’t back out of her end of the deal.
Maggie stopped short outside the pub, feeling as if she had just been slapped hard in the face by the future. The Fleur, her home and one of her few constants for so many years, had been altered irrevocably in the matter of a few hours. Scaffolding masked the frontage on both corners, and tarpaulin covered that in green swathes of netting. Jim had managed to get the new name sign reading ‘Business As Usual’ up. She was pleased to see he’d added his own arrow pointing to the small arched side entrance that hadn’t been used for God knows how long. He’d managed to open the rusty wrought-iron gate and, Maggie noted, even find a bulb of the faux Victorian lamp that lit the narrow archway. Maggie walked through it in to the tiny courtyard, which had just enough space for one dilapidated picnic table. Only this morning the courtyard had been full of old crates and empty bottles that somehow never got returned, mostly because the brands of beer they once held were long obsolete. Now there was a planted tub of late geraniums in one corner, two outdoor candles glowing softly in the dark and a couple kissing noisily, sprawled across the damp and mouldy table.
‘Excuse me,’ Maggie said, though she was fairly certain they wouldn’t notice her even if her hair was on fire. She felt a little pang of memory as the sensation of Pete’s kiss paid a swift return visit. Telling herself it would fade eventually, she took a deep breath and pushed open the door of the pool room bar, The Fleur’s only working bar for the next two months.
It was full to the rafters. This wasn’t hard as it was tiny, and even if only the five regulars who were usually there had shown up it would still have looked busy. But apart from Mrs Kim, Falcon and his friend (not Pete, Maggie noticed, wondering if he was here somewhere, and then dreading the thought that it might have been him and Stella in the gloom on the picnic table) and the old man, there were at least eight, maybe ten other people in the bar. Jim had somehow managed to move the pool table and squeeze two tables and chairs in its place, both fully occupied. Maggie caught Jim’s eyes and headed to the bar.
‘Blimey,’ she said by way of a greeting, gesturing at the busy bar.
‘Yeah, I know,’ Jim said. ‘I think it’s the little side entrance, I think it intrigues people.’
Maggie nodded – it was a possibility.
‘So how was your day?’ Jim asked her. ‘Sarah and Becca get on OK with Aidan? Tearful reunions all round?’ He poured Maggie a glass of wine and set it on the bar.
‘Thanks!’ Maggie was mildly surprised by the gesture. ‘Well, it wasn’t exactly like it is in the movies, but it was a good start, I think.’
‘Oh good, because, look, um …’ Jim leaned a little closer to her. ‘Um, Maggie––’ he began.
‘All right, Maggie?’ Falcon interrupted him, sliding up the bar to stand next to her.
‘Not so bad!’ Maggie said with deliberate brightness. ‘You?’
‘Yeah, I’m all right. How’s that Sarah?’
Maggie bit her lip. ‘That Sarah is fine, really good. In fact, she’s got a lot on at the moment with her family and, well …’ Maggie glanced at her watch and hoped she wasn’t totally lying … ‘she might have just started seeing someone else.’
Falcon shrugged. ‘Good one,’ he said mildly. He gave Maggie a smile. ‘Fancy a whisky with me? The last two singles left in town?’
Maggie was just wondering why ever not when Jim put his hand on her arm.
‘Maggie!’ he said insistently.
‘What?’ Maggie looked at him.
‘I’ve been trying to tell you, Christian’s here. I mean, actually he’s there.’
Jim nodded to the shadowy end of the short bar where Christian sat watching her. His hair was unkempt, his jaw was shadowed with stubble and his eyes looked hollow and dark. Maggie felt a lurch in her stomach and she tried to smile at him.
‘He got here just after lunch. He’s been waiting ever since. He hasn’t been drinking or anything, just sitting there looking like he hasn’t slept in ten years. Even Sheila took pity on him and made him two cups of tea, although she wouldn’t speak to him. But he didn’t touch either one. He’s just been waiting.’ Jim took in Maggie’s blanched white face. ‘Do you want to talk to him? I could get rid of him if you want me to.’
‘And me,’ Falcon said, leaning in on the conversation.
Maggie smiled at him. ‘No, it’s OK. We’ve got things we need to say to each other. That’s why he’s here, I expect.’ She took a deep breath and, picking up her glass of wine, walked over to Christian.
‘Maggie,’ he said, looking at her, his face full of sorrow.
‘Are you OK?’ Maggie asked him. ‘What happened? Is it Louise? Is she OK?’
Christian reached out for her hand and squeezed her fingers more than was comfortable.
‘I need to talk to you, but not here. Can we go somewhere?’
Maggie paused for the protracted second it took to pull her fingers from his grip and nodded, leading him through the pool room bar, through the closed-off bar and into remains of the old kitchen where Sheila was already sitting, lighting one cigarette from another.
‘Oh, you’ve found him then, Mag,’ she said dourly. ‘I’ll get back.’ She pushed back her chair and gave Christian a long look as she swept past him. ‘Don’t you let him mess you around, all right? Even if he is sorry,’ she said as she exited.
Christian sat at the table and folded his hands in front of him.
‘Do you want a drink of anything?’ Maggie asked him. ‘Tea, chocolate?’ Arsenic? She added in her own head. He certainly looked miserable enough.
He shook his head. ‘No. Look, sit down, will you. I need to get things sorted.’
Maggie sat down and looked at him, feeling an inexplicable dread.
‘I’m sorry that I haven’t been in touch, after the other night. When we kissed …’ Maggie began to tell him not to worry, but he talked over her. ‘I hated myself for that, Maggie, for kissing you and leading you on and not letting you go. For lying to Louise about it. But then I realised that maybe there was part of me that didn’t want to let you go, that couldn’t. I haven’t been in touch because I decided to take Louise away on holiday, to try to get you out of my head once and for all. And we had a great time, a fantastic time. Whenever she was by my side I couldn’t think of anything else but her. She’s so …’ Christian gestured in the dark air as if he were spreading star dust through it. ‘She’s so wonderful to be with, she lights me up from the inside, you know? She’s a bit fragile sometimes; she’s not like you. She’s not so self-reliant, but she makes me want to take care of her.’ Christian stopped himself. ‘But when I was alone, or in the middl
e of the night, I kept thinking about you, Maggie, kept coming back to you. I kept thinking about everything we’d done together, how much we achieved. I couldn’t have built up Fresh Talent without you.’
Maggie wondered if she’d misheard.
‘You could have, it was all you, not me …’ she began.
‘No. We did it together. You had just as many ideas as I did, although you let me think they were mine more often than not. I’m not totally stupid, Maggie. Fresh Talent really took off after you arrived. That wasn’t just coincidence. And you kept it going, you were the engine room. It’s been hard to replace you, really hard.’
Maggie thought she knew what he wanted.
‘Christian, look. I’m … OK about you and Louise now. I’m fine, but I can’t come back to work for you, not now … It would be too hard, and I’ve got to concentrate on the––’
Christian slammed his palm down on the table, making Maggie jump a little.
‘No, I don’t want you to come back to work for me! You’re not listening! Christ knows how long I’ve spent working out the right thing to do, so please. Just listen to me, please, OK?’
Christian ran his hands through his already dishevelled hair and Maggie nodded, suddenly wishing that the main bar next door wasn’t closed and that it wasn’t so far to the nearest people.
He took a breath. ‘You know me, Maggie. You know where I came from and how I got here. It’s taken a lot of blood and guts and a lot of learning. No one, except for you, has ever helped me. Whatever I’ve got now, I got it on my own. I’ve learnt that you have to keep building on strong foundations to keep growing. You know I left school when I was fifteen without an O level to my name. You know that. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt, and I’ve learnt it the hard way, you don’t let your best assets go cheaply.’
Maggie shook her head. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said.
‘I’m saying that you – you and I. We were the greatest asset I’ve ever had. We were a team, a great team. And OK, so our relationship has changed over the years, so we don’t make each other feel the way we used to, but I still care about you, Maggie. I still love you and I still … I still want you to be happy. The way I treated you, you didn’t deserve that. It’s the worst, most dishonourable thing that I’ve ever done and I can’t live with that. I thought you’d be OK, but then when we had dinner I realised that you weren’t, that you were so badly hurt, and I can’t bear the thought that I did that to you. I can’t pretend I’m not in love with Louise, but … well, if you’re willing to give it another go, then so will I and maybe eventually those feelings for Louise will fade. I just want to do the right thing, Maggie, and I don’t think we should throw away everything we had. What we had was solid.’
River Deep Page 32
