by Dawn Goodwin
A chillier voice over her shoulder interrupted the moment. ‘Maddie, how nice to see you.’
She dropped her hand. ‘Hi, Gemma. Thank you so much for having me.’
Gemma’s face was pinched, like she could smell something bad in the air. ‘A pudding. You shouldn’t have. Did Greg not mention our diet? He’s on a healthy eating plan to try and get rid of that lovely little muffin top.’ Greg blushed again. ‘But you weren’t to know, of course. I’m sure you’ve not spoken much this week, have you? Anyway, let’s not stand out here in the cold.’ She turned with a swish of her long hair and stalked away on thin-heeled boots.
All Maddie could think was that those boots would be making a mess of the parquet floor inside.
I really hope she sprains an ankle. Maddie fought the urge to giggle.
‘That’s why I asked you bring it,’ Greg said with a conspiratorial wink. ‘I’m sick of kale smoothies. Come, come. Jemima is having a nap but will be awake soon.’
Maddie followed him inside.
She tried not to notice the changes Gemma had made since she moved in, but her eyes were drawn to each and every one. It was like Gemma had erased Maddie almost completely from the house that she and Greg had bought and renovated together. The antique mirror that used to hang in the hallway, which they’d chosen at an antiques fair in Harrogate, had been replaced by an art deco style mirror that lacked personality in Maddie’s opinion. And there were photo frames everywhere. Maddie was sure Gemma added extra ones every time she knew Maddie was coming. It was like there was a frame strategically placed wherever her eye would fall. All those smiling faces leering at her as she walked through the hallway to the open-plan kitchen and dining room at the back of the house.
Eyes following, watching, judging.
Plotting.
The bi-folding doors to the large garden were closed against the chill, but the garden looked as immaculate as ever through the glass. Peter was still doing a good job. A tiny handprint smudged the glass in the bottom corner. Maddie zoned in on it, momentarily fascinated.
‘Glass of wine or prosecco for you, Mads?’ Greg was saying.
‘Um, prosecco, thanks. I brought a bottle with me – and there’s something small here for Jemima.’
‘Oh, how kind of you. I’ll take it,’ Gemma said, holding out her hand.
‘Well, if you don’t mind, I’d like to give it to her myself.’
Gemma’s eyes narrowed, but she spun away, saying, ‘Of course. But she’s sleeping now.’
‘I have this card for you… to say thank you for the flat-warming gifts,’ Maddie said to her back. She laid the card on the kitchen counter as Gemma flashed a cold smile over her shoulder.
‘How are you settling in?’
‘Fine, thank you. I’ve been getting to know the woman who lives upstairs, Jade. She has a son, Ben. He’s three.’ An ill-disguised look passed between Greg and Gemma. ‘The other two in the building I don’t really know yet, but there’s an elderly lady opposite me and a guy who works in computers upstairs who I met briefly. He seemed nice.’
‘And is the flat ok? Do you need anything?’ Greg asked.
Gemma still had her back turned, but Maddie noticed it stiffen. ‘I’m sure Maddie has everything she needs, babe,’ Gemma said.
‘Yes, thanks, Greg. You’ve been a huge help. And thank you for the sunflowers. My favourite – you remembered.’
He froze, his eyes flicking to Gemma.
‘Flowers? What flowers?’ Gemma spun around, her eyes wide and her mouth forming a thin line that was a far cry from a smile.
‘I thought Maddie would like some colour in her flat, you know, to make it more homely as she settles in.’
‘Well, you have been spoilt by both of us, haven’t you?’ This time she showed her teeth, like a dog growling a warning.
‘I have indeed – and it means a lot, so thank you.’
Greg exhaled and waved away her gratitude while handing her a glass of prosecco.
Silence landed heavily between them. Greg busied himself with opening a bottle of beer.
‘Get a glass, Greg. Don’t drink out of the bottle,’ Gemma said. She pulled on a pair of oven gloves. She could make even that look sexy. Maddie looked away.
‘How is Jemima? She must be getting so mobile now,’ Maddie said to Greg.
‘Yes, she’s crawling, so getting into all sorts of places that she shouldn’t.’ Pride puffed out Greg’s chest. ‘She’ll be awake soon and you’ll see for yourself how she’s keeping me on my toes.’
Maddie swigged at the prosecco, feeling the bubbles tickle her nose. ‘Can I help with anything, Gemma?’ She was clattering pans and stirring things briskly.
‘No, no, you sit still. You’re a guest in our home, after all.’
Maddie’s jaw tensed.
‘Yes, and it’s lovely to have you,’ Greg added a little too quickly. ‘We should make this a more regular thing. Maybe every weekend. Cheers!’ He raised his beer bottle in the air.
Gemma’s hand stilled over the gravy, then resumed stirring but with extra vigour. Gravy slopped over the edge of the pan.
Maddie smiled sweetly at Greg and tapped her glass to his bottle. ‘Cheers! Here’s to families, whatever shape they come in.’
Gemma turned towards them and said pointedly, ‘I would join in the toast, but I’m not drinking at the moment. Greg and I are trying for another baby.’
The room swayed in front of Maddie for a split second. ‘Oh,’ she said.
Greg glared at Gemma before saying, ‘Um, yes, I was going to tell you over lunch. It would be lovely to have a brother or sister for Jemima.’
Maddie swallowed more prosecco. ‘Yes, it would.’
Gemma threw out a triumphant smile and turned back to her pans, just as a wail erupted from deep in the house.
‘Oh, speak of the devil! Jemima is awake,’ Greg said in delight and trotted out of the room.
The air filled with a leaden silence in his absence. Gemma was still standing at the oven, stirring her gravy. She was wearing skin-tight white jeans and a loose-fitting beige roll-neck jumper, and Maddie wondered how she wasn’t getting brown splatters on her jeans. She found herself fascinated by this – the arrogance in knowing that you wouldn’t spill on yourself, that your baby wouldn’t wipe a sticky hand on your pristine thigh, that nothing would ruffle your perfect image. Maddie doubted she would ever have that kind of confidence.
Gemma must’ve felt Maddie staring because she spun around again. Maddie blushed and rearranged the look of distaste on her face.
‘You know,’ Gemma said, ‘I’m so pleased you’re finally in your own flat. It’s nice that we can all move on from all that… unpleasantness of last year, don’t you think? I’m sure you’re keen to get on with your life, make a fresh start.’
She made it sound like a wardrobe refresh. Maddie frowned at her. ‘Well, I wouldn’t say it’s as easy as that.’
‘Oh, no, of course not. But Greg was just saying last night how pleased he is to see you so independent after all this time. You two were together a long time and it must seem strange to now be on your own, master of your own destiny as they say, but also such fun.’
‘I guess it is.’ Maddie’s teeth were clenching painfully.
‘Of course, we are always here to help, but you know what Greg can be like. He’s too nice for his own good.’ How anyone could be too nice was beyond Maddie. Gemma continued, ‘Having him hovering over you and dropping everything to come and help you probably won’t be beneficial for either of you in the long term, would it? Just delaying the inevitable really.’ She paused. ‘You look tired – are you eating ok? Today should help, fill you up. It must be so difficult trying to cook for one person.’
Maddie could hear Greg babbling to Jemima down the hallway and she wanted to shout out to him to tell Gemma to stop, to come and rescue her. Gemma’s words might seem harmless to anyone else, but to Maddie each one was a tiny poisonous dart piercing her brain.
‘Anyway, I’m pleased you’re making friends. Makes all of this easier, doesn’t it? And with us trying for a new baby, Greg will have less time than ever soon, so a good opportunity for all of us to loosen the ties a bit, don’t you think?’
Maddie got to her feet. ‘This isn’t like ripping off a plaster, you know.’ Her voice sounded shrill. ‘I can’t just forget and move on, no matter how much you might want me to. I not only lost a husband, I lost a best friend and the chance at a family too.’
‘There, there, Maddie. Don’t go getting yourself upset.’
‘You think you have it all figured out, don’t you? Well, I promise you this, one day I’ll—’
‘Here she is!’ Greg came back into the kitchen, then paused. ‘Everything ok?’
‘Yes, fine. Gemma was just telling me that I look tired and thin.’ She was still glaring at Gemma.
Greg looked panicked, his eyes flitting from Maddie to Gemma and back again. ‘Well, it’s been a stressful time for you, for everyone… Say hi to Aunty Mads, Jemima!’
The tiny little girl in Greg’s arms was watching Maddie with big blue eyes, her blonde curls framing her little face like a cloud, and Maddie melted. ‘Hey there, baby girl.’
She reached out and took her from Greg, ignoring the annoyance on Gemma’s face, and breathed in her warm, vanilla innocent baby smell.
This was what made her feel complete.
*
Greg looked around the table, feeling a warm glow of contentment. In fact, it wasn’t just contentment. He was feeling smug. He felt like he had in fact achieved the impossible. After what seemed like years of getting it completely wrong, he was finally getting something right. He had his girlfriend, his wife and his daughter all sitting at the table, eating together and not stabbing each other with the cutlery. He sat back in his chair, his hands on the table, and surveyed the tableau playing out in front of him.
Gemma sat at the other end of the table from him and God, she was beautiful. Ok, so right now her lips were pursed like a cat’s bum and she was clearly very tense, but even on edge, she turned him on. He wouldn’t ever admit out loud that that may have been a factor when he had hired her all those years ago, but it was nice to have something pretty to look at when he was at work. Especially back then, when things with Maddie weren’t going so well and there were days when his wife wasn’t even getting out of bed, when she wore pyjamas or stained tracksuit bottoms day in and day out.
Of course, the affair was never planned. In fact, he would proudly tell anyone if asked that he’d avoided being alone with Gemma for ages. But she could be quite single-minded when she wanted to be and she eventually wore him down. Yes, she was beautiful – not exactly good at her job in the beginning, but then he could forgive her that. Maddie used to wonder why he persevered with her as his PA when he seemed to be clearing up her messes more than anything else, but it was like she had put a dazed spell on him.
Of course, that beauty was expensive to maintain – his bank account was hammered regularly by hairdressers, spa appointments, make-up purchases and God knows what else in order to keep her looking a million pounds, but she was worth it.
He looked to his right where Maddie was sitting gazing at Jemima in her highchair. His heart fell then, but only because he still loved her – or at least the girl she was before everything. The girl that had his back, fought his corner, laughed at his jokes. He remembered the countless evenings drinking red wine and discussing politics and socioeconomics, or curling up on the couch and watching films that made them laugh or cry. All things he didn’t do with Gemma. He and Maddie had been inseparable for so long. He looked at her now with the fine lines on her face and the flecks of grey in her hair. The last few years had aged her, but ultimately she was still Maddie – another woman he couldn’t say no to. To be perfectly honest, Maddie was a much nicer, warmer and kinder person than Gemma, who had a coldness to her and a selfishness. The Maddie of old had wanted to help people, always saw the best in them, often misplaced, and yet she had never seemed to catch a break herself.
He hoped that the old Maddie was still in there, that the last few years hadn’t changed her irreversibly. There’d been some things that she’d done that had worried him; he hoped that was all behind them now.
Maddie was pushing her food around her plate, a look of poorly disguised displeasure on her face. He could almost hear what she was thinking and wanted to laugh out loud. Gemma was a terrible cook and today was no different. She had wanted to do some vegetarian bake of sorts that involved kale and lentils, but he had convinced her to make a traditional roast, blaming it on Maddie being a meat-lover, but in actual fact he couldn’t face any more of her plant-based torture. He knew he had to get back into shape if he wanted to keep a woman like Gemma interested – God knew he was punching above his weight – but he couldn’t take much more of it. He gagged when he thought about soya milk and the flatulence from all the vegetables and lentils was getting embarrassing at the gym. He’d started sneaking out to buy takeaways at lunchtime and binning the evidence before he got home. If Gemma found out, she’d kill him, but his bloody nut allergy made it really difficult to find anything even vaguely nice to eat that didn’t include a deadly ingredient and he was starving all the time.
Then there was Jemima. She sat next to him in her highchair, playing the drums with her spoon and giggling. She was his entire world. For a while he’d thought he would never be a father. In fact, he had resigned himself to that fact. Of course, Maddie never gave up hope and that was what ultimately drove them apart. Maddie would’ve been enough for him, but he wasn’t enough for her.
When Gemma told him she was pregnant, his first thought was shock and fear. In fact, he threw up a little in his mouth. Then very quickly afterwards came the excitement, followed by fear again at having to tell Maddie. He vowed then to make sure she was involved in Jemima’s life. Ok, so it was a little weird to involve your ex in your daughter’s life, but he knew better than anyone how much Maddie had wanted a child and if this was the closest she would get, then he would make damn sure she was involved.
Of course, Gemma had not been keen, to say the least. But on this he wasn’t budging. He knew she was spiteful to Maddie when he wasn’t around, but he also knew that Maddie could give as much as she got if cornered. He hoped he would never have to pick sides between them because he didn’t honestly think he could.
But this, in front of him right now, was an embodiment of having your cake and eating it too.
He smiled again – the proverbial cat who got the cream – and picked up his cutlery to attack the piece of leather on his plate.
*
Maddie stared at the plate in front of her. The meat was overcooked, the Yorkshire puddings flat and rubbery, and the gravy lumpy, even after Gemma had run it through a sieve. Regardless, Greg was tucking into his plate of food like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. Looking at him now, eating was one thing he had definitely been doing. Gemma was right about the muffin top. It would seem all those lentils and avocados were not good for his waistline.
Jemima was sitting opposite Maddie, banging her spoon against the table of her highchair, little flecks of carrot flying off with every exuberant clank of metal on wood. Maddie noticed Gemma flinch every time the spoon made contact and Maddie wondered how long she could stand it before she took the spoon away.
‘Jemima, sweetie, too loud,’ Gemma said through gritted teeth and snatched it away.
Not very long at all, it would seem.
‘Are you still swimming, Maddie? Exercise is always so good for one’s mental health,’ Gemma said.
‘I haven’t been lately, but I must get back in the pool sometime soon.’
‘Not my thing, swimming – makes me think of verrucas and communal changing rooms,’ Gemma said. ‘Give me a clean yoga studio any day.’
‘Actually, it’s lovely to swim at the outdoor pool. It’s like swimming in a warm bath and the people are really friendly.’
Silence fell over the table, the only sound the scrape of cutlery and gurgles from Jemima.
‘So, tell us more about this woman who lives upstairs, Maddie,’ Greg said around a mouthful of burnt roast potato.
Maddie pushed a bit of leathery beef around in the gravy, hoping for lubrication. ‘She’s… nice. Not the type of person I would normally meet, really.’
‘I can’t say I’ve ever met any of your friends,’ Gemma said.
‘Well, a lot of our friends are also Maddie’s friends, Gem,’ Greg said.
Maddie ignored the smirk on Gemma’s face. She knew that many of Maddie’s so-called friends had backed Greg when they split up. It was too uncomfortable to be friends with Maddie, what with how unstable she had been. The sorrow coming off her in waves was quite the repellent socially. She became something to be whispered about deliciously at dinner parties rather than being invited to them.
‘Well, it’s a good time for you to branch out and meet some new people. I would hate to think you’re lonely,’ Gemma said.
Maddie pointedly turned to Greg, cutting Gemma from the conversation. ‘Jade is nice. A single mum, which must be very hard. The father of her son isn’t around, so she does it all herself. And Ben is a sweet kid, very quiet but calm.’
As she was saying this, Jemima was banging another spoon against the highchair table and gurgling, spit bubbles popping on her lips. Maddie smiled at her. Gemma scowled.
‘Greg, babe, can you get her a book or soft toy or something? That noise is going right through my head.’
Greg scraped his chair back on the black slate floor with an ear-piercing squeal and started rooting in a box of toys in the corner of the room. Jemima was too far away from Maddie for her to reach out and play with her. Gemma had put her at a safe distance away on the other side of the table, but Maddie smiled and started making faces at Jemima anyway, who giggled and banged the spoon harder.
Greg sat down again and handed Jemima a book about lions, the cover bright with orange fluff like an untamed mane. He calmly swapped out the spoon.
