She knew then what her decision would be. ‘You don’t need to wait until tomorrow.’
‘I don’t?’
‘I’ll do what you want. All three things. Read the diaries. Come to Donegal. And help you find Sadie.’
He didn’t gush or praise her. He just clasped her hands tightly in his. ‘Thank you, Maggie.’
She could imagine Miranda’s voice as she got ready for bed. ‘He’s done it again, you realise that? Arranged it all, made you feel like you had no option but do what he wanted. That’s what tonight was all about, you know. He’s a master at getting his own way.’
Yes, he was, Maggie admitted. But he was also her grandfather.
He was bursting with news by the time she arrived at his hotel the next morning. He’d already rung Clementine in Hobart and Eliza in Melbourne.
‘They both had to tell me off first, of course, for putting you under pressure by turning up in New York like this. And then they put up the usual arguments. But once I told them the whole story, they said of course they’d come. Clementine was particularly excited. I could hear it in her voice. She’s got some wonderful news of her own. As I told her, now she’ll be able to tell you face to face.’
‘Is she going to Antarctica again? That’s fantastic. She’ll be over the moon.’
‘She wants to tell you herself, so I’m not saying anything more.’
‘But what did you mean you told them both the whole story? About the Tessa scrapbook? I thought you weren’t going to tell them any of that until we were there.’
‘No, I didn’t mention that.’
‘You told them you’d found Sadie?’
‘I promised you I wouldn’t, Maggie, and I didn’t. That has to be between you and me, for the time being at least.’
‘So what whole story did you tell them?’
He gave an airy gesture. ‘I just mentioned how important it was for them to be there for you.’
‘For me? What did you say about me?’
‘I’ll tell you in a minute. Now, just to discuss arrangements. I’ve rung the airlines this morning and we can get seats on a flight leaving New York this evening. We’ll be in Donegal tomorrow, settled in beautifully by the time Miranda, Eliza and Clementine arrive. I was lucky, I got the last three seats. I decided to splash out on business-class. There’s nothing like it on these long flights. And we are going on business, aren’t we?’
‘Three? Why did you need to book three seats?’
Leo gave her an innocent smile. ‘Didn’t I tell you? Gabriel’s coming with us.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Maggie was so angry by the time Leo finished telling her all he’d arranged that she was actually shaking.
‘You can’t do this. You have to stop it. You can’t bring Gabriel into this as well.’
‘I haven’t “brought him” into it. I’ve hired him. It’s a business arrangement. And it takes the pressure off you. I got the idea last night while he and I were talking. Please don’t look so upset. Let me explain. I realised a scrapbook was too old-fashioned a way of collecting memories. I had to embrace the technology available to me. Videotape, for example. Not only that, but get an expert to help. Gabriel’s an expert. We’ll hire the equipment as soon as we get to Ireland and he’ll film everyone talking about Tessa over two or three days. It’s ingenious, if I say so myself. And so much easier on you, Maggie. You won’t have to interview everyone, write everything down, worry about misquoting people or having to tape it and transcribe your notes. It leaves you free to read Tessa’s diaries, too. I was worried when you were going to get time to do that, though you might want to make a start on the plane, of course. Don’t you think it’s the perfect solution?’
‘Have you actually asked Gabriel yet? Or have you gone ahead and booked a plane seat for him without his permission?’
‘Of course I’ve asked him. I spoke to him about it in a general way last night, when I heard that he used to be a cameraman and the idea first came to me. I asked him whether he was available for a freelance job. He said yes. And then I rang him this morning and we discussed it further. He said he’d think about it and let me know his final answer before lunchtime today. But he sounded keen. Very keen. He’s never been to Ireland. He’ll only need a few days with us to do the filming and then he can go off and visit all the music pubs he wants. It’s all very businesslike, Maggie, I assure you. Return airfares, a living allowance and a fee for his work. He’s got the experience I want so I’m prepared to pay him for it.’
‘And what do you think Clementine and the others are going to make of this?’
‘I thought it best not to worry them about it beforehand. It’ll be much easier to tell them in person.’
‘What if they don’t want to be filmed, though? You’ll put Gabriel in a really awkward situation.’
‘But they want to meet him anyway, camera or no camera. Clementine and Eliza both said it, and so did Juliet when I told her we were on our way. I haven’t spoken to Miranda yet, but I’m sure she’ll feel the same way. You remember that document they drew up, “The Commandments of Aunts” or whatever it was called. It’s a legal arrangement between you.’
Maggie was looking very confused now. ‘But that’s got nothing in it about being in a film.’
‘I was thinking of another part of it. Not that I went into detail. All I said was he’s a good friend of yours. A very good friend of yours.’
The colour rushed out of Maggie’s face. ‘No. Please don’t tell me they think Gabriel and I —’
‘I didn’t mean to, Maggie. I promise you it wasn’t premeditated. I thought I heard them hesitate a little about making the trip, and before I quite knew what I was saying, I seemed to mention something about the fact this was a good opportunity for everyone to give you their approval, the way they’d promised…’ His voice trailed off.
‘But that document was just a joke, Tadpole. And it said nothing about a boyfriend, anyway. It said they had to approve the man I was going to marry.’
‘Yes, I know.’
She stared at him. ‘You told them Gabriel was my fiancé?’ Her voice was very low.
‘Not in so many words.’
‘Tadpole, no! What a mess. Have you told Gabriel about this?’
‘I mentioned it in passing. I just made light of it, kept it sketchy. There was no point in going into detail in case he decided not to come.’
‘And what did he say?’
‘He laughed, I think. We both did. He seems to have a great sense of humour.’
‘It’s not funny, Tadpole. It’s not fair, either, on him or on me. How could you do this? I was here, going along nicely, living my own life, trying to get myself sorted out, and you arrive like some kind of tornado and turn everything upside down.’
‘Maggie, please, indulge your old grandfather. This is so important to me.’
If it wasn’t for the earnest expression on his face she would have completely lost her temper. ‘Miranda is right. You are the most manipulative person in the entire world.’
‘Miranda said that?’
‘Yes, she did. You don’t have to look so proud about it, either.’ She rubbed her nose. ‘I don’t have much choice about any of this, do I? But Gabriel does. If you want to film everyone’s memories, fine, but let’s hire someone in Ireland. I’ll ring Gabriel now and tell him he’s off the hook and —’
‘It’s too late.’
‘Why is it too late?’
Leo was smiling at someone over her shoulder. ‘He’s just come in the door behind you. And if my elderly eyes don’t deceive me, he’s carrying a suitcase.’
Leo excused himself within a minute of Gabriel arriving. He managed in that time to give Gabriel a hearty greeting, a slap on his back and a mention of how delighted he was to see the suitcase before saying he had to go and check something with the concierge.
If Maggie had had more time to think about the situation, she might have felt awkward. But her blood was still s
immering. She wanted to get it all sorted out, then and there.
‘My grandfather is impossible and I am so sorry you’ve been swept up in all of this,’ she said the moment Leo was out of earshot. Not that she would have minded if he heard it. ‘Gabriel, I’m embarrassed about this whole situation. You’ve been put in an incredibly awkward position. You don’t know my aunts. They’ll eat you alive. They’d eat you alive if you were there just as a cameraman, let alone as my fiancé.’
‘I think it sounds like fun.’
‘Are you serious? Are you seriously considering it?’ She remembered something then and coloured. ‘I’m sorry, I know Leo said it’s a business arrangement and I can’t tell you not to accept a job. It’s just —’
‘It’s not about the money, Maggie. I just liked what Leo was suggesting. I haven’t been to Ireland before. I haven’t filmed for nearly two years. I thought about it all last night and this morning and I realised I was ready. That it was time I tried again. I liked the idea of this, too, something so different – no news angles, just people talking. And lots of scenery shots as well, Leo said. He described where the house is. It sounds beautiful.’
‘It is beautiful. It’s incredible, so wild and —’ She stopped there. ‘But it’s the other little added extra that’s made it impossible, Gabriel. For you and for me. It’s not fair on either of us.’
‘Why not? Your grandfather made that part of it sound fun too. He painted a great picture. Come to Donegal, spend time with you and your family. Film you all talking about a much-loved mother and wife. Pretend to be your boyfriend – sorry, pretend to be your fiancé – to make sure they’ll all come. I decided I was ready for the filming. But could I do that fiancé part? Could I pretend that Maggie Faraday – who already makes me laugh and gets me to tell her more than I’ve told anyone in two years, who rubs her nose and tries to hide her ears, and who is quite possibly the nicest person I’ve met in a very long time – could I spend five days pretending to be in love with her? And I decided that yes, I could. That I would find that fun as well.’
‘But it’s crazy. You don’t know me. I don’t know you.’
‘How long does it take to fly to Ireland? Six hours or so? That’s three hours talking time each. We’ll be sick of each other by the time we get there.’
She sank back into her chair. For the first time, she let herself picture the Donegal house. She saw all of them sitting around the table: herself, Leo, Juliet, Clementine, Miranda and Eliza. She pictured Gabriel there, taking it all in, filming them, collecting their memories of Tessa. It wasn’t just that that lay ahead, though. She thought of the diaries. Of Sadie. Of all that she had learned in the past two days.
Gabriel’s voice broke into her thoughts. ‘Maggie, let’s not take it too seriously. Let’s just enjoy it. What do you think?’
She looked up at him. He was very relaxed. Amused, even.
‘It’s not as simple as you think. It never is with my grandfather.’
‘You’ll have to fill me in on everything then. Prepare me. We’re going to be married, after all. There shouldn’t be any secrets between us.’
If he only knew. She thought about it. What was the alternative? Staying in New York on her own? Passing up the opportunity to see her mother again? Her aunts? Perhaps it would be okay. And perhaps, in a way, it was also the best way to see all her family again.
She gave in. ‘We’ll have to have a big fight on your final day, then. Call off the engagement.’
‘No problem,’ he said. ‘I’ll start it. I’m really good at dramatic fights.’
‘Are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?’
He smiled then, that line appearing in his cheek. ‘No, but I’m looking forward to it anyway.’
‘I think you’re mad.’
‘Mad? Maggie Faraday, how dare you talk to your fiancé like that?’
‘I give up. You’re as bad as my grandfather.’
‘Well?’ It was Leo, back again. Behind him came the concierge, carrying a tray with a bottle of champagne and three glasses. ‘Was I gone long enough?’
‘Your timing was perfect,’ Gabriel said. He reached across and took Maggie’s hand in his. ‘Leo, we’ve got some wonderful news.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Juliet’s left ear was burning. She had spent all morning on the phone. First Leo, with his bombshell news. It was enough of a shock to hear he was in New York, let alone that he’d managed to convince Maggie, Clementine and Eliza to come to Ireland after all, not to mention his final piece of news.
‘So can you make up four more beds?’ he’d asked her.
‘Four?’
‘One for Clementine, one for Eliza, one for Maggie and one for Gabriel.’
‘Gabrielle? Who’s Gabrielle?’
‘Maggie’s friend.’
‘She’s bringing a girlfriend?’
‘Not a girlfriend. Gabriel.’ He spelt it. ‘As in the archangel. As in a man. As in her boyfriend.’
‘Maggie’s bringing a boyfriend?’
‘A little more than a boyfriend, I think. Not that I want to steal Maggie’s thunder —’
‘Maggie’s engaged?’
Juliet had barely hung up, still reeling, when the phone rang again. Clementine from Hobart.
‘Can you believe this?’ Clementine said. ‘Maggie’s engaged!’
Ten seconds after Juliet hung up from Clementine, Eliza rang from Melbourne. Ten minutes after that, Miranda from her villa on the Greek island of Santorini.
‘I’ve just had the strangest text messages from Clementine and Eliza. Is it true? Maggie’s coming? With a fiancé? What on earth is going on?’
Juliet filled her in. She kept it short. She was going to be busy enough now getting all the rooms ready. She wondered whether she should put Maggie and Gabriel in a room together. They were surely lovers, but she didn’t think Leo would approve of that. He did still have the occasional old-fashioned idea about such things. Juliet did a quick count. There were just enough rooms for one each. If Maggie and Gabriel were to make their own arrangements in the middle of the night, then that was their business.
‘Why hasn’t Maggie told us about him?’
The million-dollar question. Juliet pondered the answer even after she’d said goodbye to Miranda. The truth was Maggie hadn’t told them much about anything lately. They’d all realised that had been the whole idea behind her stay in New York – space and time to think things through on her own. But now the cat was out of the bag. She’d been enjoying a love affair the whole time. Good on her, Juliet thought.
And, best of all, it gave Juliet some more to do. Apart from getting more bedrooms ready she’d have to buy more food, more flowers, more wine. Good. More things to fill up her head, which was exactly what she needed.
She’d had an unhappy few days on her own. It should have been better. On her way to Donegal she’d told herself to use this time as rest and relaxation, as much as possible once all the preparations were done, of course. Perhaps she’d even get some reading time. Except she had done no relaxing and no reading. She had too much going on in her own head at the moment to be able to distract herself with fictional lives and dramas.
She checked the calendar again, even though she knew exactly what the date was. She was like a prisoner in a cell, ticking off the days, anxiously waiting for release. She knew when Myles expected to be back from his trip. She knew what flight he’d be arriving in on. She knew it would take him approximately one hour to get from Manchester Airport to their house. Three minutes to pay the cab driver. Less than two minutes to come inside, put down his case, walk around the house. Ten seconds after entering the kitchen he’d see the envelope propped up beside the fruit bowl. She’d left it against the vase first, then by the radio, then flat on the table, before deciding the fruit bowl was the most obvious place.
What would he think when he saw it? That it was a welcome-home note? He’d open it, take out the letter.
Dear Myles, he would read:
It is cowardly to tell you like this, I know, and we will talk about it face to face, but I have to tell you in writing first, to give me a chance to put in words exactly how I feel, and you a chance to understand. I need to leave you and our marriage. I am too unhappy, every single day, and I am making you unhappy and I can’t see any point in us staying together. I blame myself, I blame you, I blame the whole situation but I can’t see any way around it. I haven’t thought beyond that fact yet. I know it will be tricky, with the business and the cafés and everything, but I hope we can be civilised and keep the hurt as brief as possible for both of us.
I’ll be back from Donegal at the end of the month. See you then.
I’m sorry.
Juliet
Was she sorry? Yes. She was sorry and sad and hurt, and sick of feeling all those things. She was sick of being surrounded by constant reminders that the life she and Myles had was not the life she wanted. She had set herself milestones for years. When I turn forty, I’ll feel differently. When I turn forty-five, it will be okay. She was now fifty and she felt worse about it, not better.
She knew now she had been fooling herself that it would get better. It had changed, not improved. She wasn’t just sad any more. She was angry, angrier than she had thought it possible to feel. Not at herself, but at Myles.
The decision to leave him had still been a gradual one. At first, naively, she had thought the only way to get through it was together. It affected both of them, so they would have to mourn together. Then it had slowly dawned on her that he had got over it. He was fine. He thought it was okay. He actually thought they had a good life. He didn’t see that he had played any role in this at all. All he did was fill their conversation with stupid platitudes.
‘You can’t have everything, Juliet. If we had been able to have children, who can say we wouldn’t have had more heartache with them? Don’t you think we’ve had a good life? We’re better off than lots of people – we travel, have good holidays, do work we love. We’ve had good, full lives. You can’t spend your life thinking “what if”. You’ll go mad that way.’
Those Faraday Girls Page 37
