“Well,” sighed Mad, “I suppose it’s better to be honest with her. I mean, if you don’t want a proper relationship it’s better to end it now. Not let it drag on. Give her a chance to find someone else.”
“That’s what I said,” Ben agreed gratefully, “that’s what I told her, but she couldn’t see it, or wouldn’t accept it.”
Mad finished her tea and got to her feet. “I expect she will eventually,” she said. “Give her time. After all nobody likes being dumped, whatever the reason, do they? And when she doesn’t see you going round with anybody else, at least she’ll know it wasn’t that.”
“Well, she certainly won’t see me with anybody else,” Ben said firmly, and tossing his beer can in the direction of the rubbish bin got to his feet as well. “Thanks, Mad. See you in the morning.”
Mad had gone to bed then, and lain awake for some time feeling sorry for Angie. She quite understood her outburst, she was hurting and hitting back. Thinking about it, Mad supposed in a way that Angie had been right. It wasn’t that they were on Ben’s side exactly, but they were Ben’s friends rather than Angie’s, and if she disappeared from the scene they’d none of them really miss her. She wondered if it were worse to be dumped for someone else or just, well, dumped. She rather suspected it was the latter. What she would not allow herself to dwell on were Angie’s remarks about Dan. They after all, were sheer spite, there’d been spite in her eyes as she’d made them, and though Dan had a wandering eye, he would never look at anyone as young as Chantal Haven.
Now Mad saw her approaching across the windswept field. Since the night of the break-up, she had only seen Angie in the distance, in the union or across the street and if there was momentary eye contact, neither of them allowed it to develop into recognition or greeting. It wasn’t that they avoided each other exactly, they just made no effort to meet.
As Mad watched her coming over, clearly heading straight for her, she wondered what Angie wanted.
“Hi, Angie,” she said cheerfully as the girl came up beside her. “How are you?”
“OK.” Angie stopped beside her, staring back towards the changing rooms. Silence slipped round them for a moment and then Angie asked, “Is he playing today?”
“Ben? Yes, it’s a tough fixture. They need their strongest side.”
“Dan too?”
“Yes, Dan too.”
“How is he? Dan, I mean.”
Mad thought back to the last time Angie had spoken of Dan and said shortly, “He’s fine.” She glanced at Angie, trying to read her expression, but Angie wasn’t even looking at her, she was still watching the changing rooms, watching for the teams to emerge.
Suddenly she turned back and said, “God! I’d forgotten how cold it is on these touch lines.” She blew on her fingers, and then went on, “Dan said the other day that it’s your birthday today.”
Mad laughed in surprise. “Did he now? Well it is, but I’m amazed he remembered by himself.”
“Going out somewhere, are you?” Angie asked, innocently. Madeleine knew at once that Dan must have said more. “We’re all going down the Dutch this evening, yes.” Mad looked into Angie’sface and knew why she’d asked. “We’re hoping to celebrate a win over Loughborough too! You can come if you want to.” She added awkwardly, “Anyone can. Everyone’s welcome.”
“I might,” Angie said casually, “I’m not sure what I’m doing.” But Mad knew that this was the whole point of this meeting and conversation. Angie had heard about the party at the pub and wanted to be there.
“Where did you see Dan?” Madeleine asked, equally casually.
“In the Blue Bottle at Belston St Mary,” replied Angie. “Last Thursday, I think it was.”
You know very well when it was, thought Madeleine angrily, that’s another reason you’ve come to find me today. You wanted to tell me you’d seen him out without me, maybe even with someone else. Well, bitch, I’m not going to give you the satisfaction of asking anything about it.
She forced a smile to her lips and looking over Angie’s shoulder saw the Loughborough team emerging on to the pitch, followed immediately by the Belchers. A cheer went round the ground and she joined in the university chant: “Hey Belchers! Go! Go! Go! Hey Belchers Blow! Blow! Blow!”
Angie watched the teams explode on to the pitch as well, and then, touching Mad’s arm, said, “Might see you later then… oh and happy birthday.” Then she wandered off through the spectators, completely ignoring the game.
The game was hard and fast, and the spectators surged up and down the touchline, shouting and encouraging. As she turned to follow the game, Mad cannoned into someone next to her, and found it was Chantal Haven.
“Hi Chantal, what are you doing here?”
“Just come to watch the Belchers,” said Chantal. “It’s fun now I know some of them. Ben and Dan and people.”
The chant started again and both girls joined in, “Hey Belchers Go! Go! Go!” They had to struggle to keep their places in the front so they could see.
At half-time the score was 7-7, and as the teams separated for the allotted five minutes, Chantal said, as if she’d just thought of it, “Happy Birthday!”
Madeleine smiled, surprised. “Thanks, Chantal, how did you know it was my birthday?”
“D–Dean told me, I saw him the other day, we walked back fromtown together. He said there’s a party at the Dutch tonight.”
“Not really a party,” Mad said. “We’re all just meeting up for a few drinks, that’s all.”
“Mmm, he said,” agreed Chantal, “he said I can come too…?” She didn’t ask if it was all right, but the question was in her voice.
“Anyone can come,” Mad replied. “We’re only meeting in a pub,” but then added, “if you’re allowed.”
“Oh, Mum doesn’t mind if I’m with you,” Chantal said cheerfully, “As long as I’m not too late.”
“Yeah, well whatever.” Mad wasn’t particularly enthusiastic. Chantal wasn’t one of their crowd, she was far too young, but if Dean had suggested she came, well that was up to him.
“Look there’s Mrs Hammond,” cried Chantal, “with Sylvia and Thomas. Think I’ll watch from the end for a bit. Probably see you later, Mad.” She sauntered off in the opposite direction and disappeared among the other supporters.
“Yeah, see you.” Mad said to her retreating back, and then looked round and saw Jill Hammond wandering round the field with her children. Madeleine had met the children on several occasions and was fond of them. She waved, and Jill came across, the children running on ahead of her as they saw Mad.
“Hallo,” Mad laughed as Sylvia ran into her and hugged her waist. “How are you guys?”
“We’ve come to watch Ben play rugby,” Sylvia said importantly. “We saw him just now. He was in that fight thing.”
For a moment Mad looked puzzled and Jill arriving and overhearing what Sylvia said laughed and said, “She means the scrum!”
“You’re right,” Mad laughed too. “It is a fight thing!”
“I like Ben,” Sylvia announced. “He comes to our house and does painting. He’s painted my bedroom and put galloping horses all round the wall.”
“Has he now? I bet that looks great.”
Thomas tugged at her jeans. “Ben’s put Thomas the tank engine by my bed.”
Mad bent down to give him a hug too. “You are lucky,” she said.
“And now you’ve come to watch him play rugby.”
“He’s very muddy,” Thomas remarked, looking across at the huddle of players in the middle of the pitch.
“You’d be muddy too if you’d been rolling around on this field,” laughed Mad.
At that moment the whistle blew again and the second half began. Jill scooped Thomas up into her arms and said, “Well, you two, I think we’ll go now. It’s very cold out here, and we’ve seen Ben.”
“But he hasn’t seen us,” wailed Sylvia. “I want to see him play again.”
“He did see us,” Jill tol
d her. “He saw us when they stopped for half-time. He looked over and saw us. I promise you.”
“Well he didn’t say hallo,” muttered Sylvia.
“No, he didn’t, but that was because he was busy. He had to stay with his team. Come on, Sylvia, let’s go home for tea. We could have those crumpets you bought.” She smiled at Mad. “Anthony’s away for the weekend, and it’s Isabelle’s afternoon off, so I thought a walk to watch the rugby might pass the time, but it is very cold and the crumpets are beckoning!”
The play on the pitch hurtled towards them, and as three or four players careered over the touchline the spectators lurched back out of their way. Mad snatched Sylvia out of harm’s way, and held her close as the bodies scrabbled about in the mud at her feet. Sylvia clung to Mad’s neck as she watched the lads untangle themselves into a line out, right in front of them. Ben was in the line and as the ball came in, he was hoisted into the air, snatching it and passing it on quickly.
“There’s Ben,” squealed Sylvia in delight. “Mummy! There’s Ben, jumping!”
“Yes, yes I see him, Sylvia.”
“I seed him too,” called Thomas, still safely in his mother’s arms. “I seed Ben too.”
The game moved away from them again, pushing towards the Loughborough try line, and Mad put Sylvia down again.
“Well, that was very successful,” laughed Jill. “We’ve seen Ben jumping. Now chaps, we really must go home for tea. Say goodbye to Mad.”
They all said goodbye and as Jill was turning away, Mad called after her impulsively. “Jill, if you’re on your own this evening, with Anthony away, why don’t you come and join us in the pub. The Flying Dutchman, you know, where Ben works? It’s my birthday and we’re all getting together for a few drinks.”
Jill hesitated. “Well,” she said, “I don’t know. Thanks for asking, but I probably won’t. Wrong vintage, you know?”
“Stuff,” scoffed Mad. “Of course you’re not. It’ll be great… oh but you said it was Isabelle’s day off.”
“Afternoon. She’ll be back this evening.”
“There you are then, come and join the piss-up!”
“Is that what it’ll be?” grinned Jill.
“Not to begin with, but it may degenerate… you know. Specially if these guys stuff Loughborough this afternoon.” She swivelled he eyes back to the field, in time to see Dan make a break and fling himself over the try line to score. Cheers and whistles and shrieks of delight exploded from the Belchers’ supporters, and Mad joined in, clapping and shouting, chanting the Belcaster chant. When she turned back, Jill had gone and was a hundred yards away, heading for home.
Watching the rest of the game Mad gave herself over to cheering the team and forgot all about Angie, Chantal and Jill. It was an exciting finish with Loughborough kicking a penalty two minutes before the end, but the Belchers managed to hold on and so scrape a win by two points. As the players came off the pitch, most of the spectators streamed away, heading for the union bar where the teams would join them later.
“Hey, great try,” Mad called to Dan, and he gave her a muddy grin, clearly delighted with himself, before heading into the changing rooms to shower.
“Well played, Ben,” she said as he came past, “your fan club was here!”
Ben stopped abruptly, “What? What do you mean? Who?”
Mad laughed: “Sylvia and Thomas. Jill brought them to watch you play. They were full of it.”
A flicker of relief crossed Ben’s face, and Mad realised he must have thought she’d meant Angie. “Oh, yeah, I saw them,” he said. He grinned at her. “See you later, at the Dutch.”
The Flying Dutchman was crammed to overflowing when Jill Hammond pushed in through the door later that evening. Mad’s party was obviously well under way, and there was already one very rowdy group singing in a corner. Even as she edged her way through the crowd, she was wishing she’d not come. It was mad to go into a student pub by herself, to join a group she hardly knew, but it was a chance to see Ben, and there hadn’t been many of those lately. Anthony had been working from home a lot, and the madness was still on her. She thought of it like that, her craving to be with Ben, even if it was in a crowd, when they could hardly even acknowledge each other. She knew he was working behind the bar that evening, but she couldn’t see him, and would have turned and fled had not Madeleine caught sight of her and grabbed her by the arm.
“Jill!” she cried. “You came. Good for you! Here, let me get you a drink. My dad sent me some dosh to buy everyone a drink.” She turned and bellowed at the bar, “Hey, Ben, my man, a pint for Jill. You do drink beer don’t you?”
“Not really,” laughed Jill. “Red wine please, Mad.”
“Pint of red wine,” Mad called across to Ben, pushing Jill towards the bar in front of her.
Jill saw Ben looking at her thunderstruck, and smiled steadily. “Just a glass will do, thanks, Ben.”
“Yeah, right.” Ben regained control of his features and poured the drink, adding it to Mad’s tab. “Didn’t know you were coming,” he muttered.
“I’m on my own this weekend, so Mad suggested I come and join her party. Great win this afternoon I hear.”
“Hey Jill,” Mad grabbed her arm and drew her into her group. “You know these guys don’t you? Dino, Cirelle, and this is Dan. You know Dan, don’t you?”
It was clear that Mad had been celebrating her birthday for some time, and she was going well.
“Happy birthday, Mad,” said a voice behind her.
Mad peered over her shoulder. “Angie, you came. Great! Have a drink, they’re on me. Ben! A pint for Angie.” Mad pushed her way to the bar again, leaving Jill with the others from The Madhouse.
“Mad seems to be well away,” she said to Cirelle, who laughed and raising her pint glass, said with a slight slur to her voice, “I think we all are.”
At that moment, someone started the Belcaster Chant, and soon the whole pub was ringing with “Hey Belchers! Go! Go! Go! Hey Belchers! Blow! Blow! Blow!” Then someone started shouting, “Jamie! Jamie! Jamie!” The cry was taken up and the scorer of the first try was hoisted on to a chair and given a pint of lager which, to the accompaniment of “Down! Down! Down!” he sank in one go. Then it was Dan’s turn. As he was hoisted on to the chair, Jill saw to her amazement, that Chantal Haven was also in the group.
What on earth is that child doing here she wondered? Does Angela know where she is?
She watched as Chantal joined in the shouting and cheering for Dan, watched her drain her glass, and wondered what on earth she was drinking. It looked like coke, but you never knew these days.
“Down! Down! Down!” bellowed the crowd, and Dan emptied his pint straight down his throat to a roar of delight from his friends.
Feeling extremely old, Jill drank her wine and decided that it had indeed been a mistake to come. Ben certainly didn’t look very pleased to see her. She’d just have one more glass and slip away. But she’d reckoned without Madeleine. As she swallowed the last mouthful of her wine, another was put into her hand, and by the time she’d drunk that, she felt she ought at least to buy the birthday girl a drink before she left. She struggled to the bar and bought more beer for Mad and the rest of the Madhouse, another glass of wine for herself and a pint for Ben.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Ben muttered as he handed her the wine.
Jill gave him a helpless grin and said, “Mad told me to come! Honestly! Why? Do you mind?”
Ben raised his eyebrows and said, “No, ’course not, but watch out. My ex-girlfriend is just behind you, in the red sweater, and she’s poison. Don’t know why she’s here either.” He passed across the other drinks. “Are you going to stay till closing?”
Jill felt a warmth spread through as she saw the expression in his eyes. “No… yes, maybe. I don’t know.”
“Wait for me after?” His eyes were bright, and she didn’t hesitate with her answer.
“I’ll be in the car. It’s in the car park.�
�
“Move it round the corner, in Fish Street. I’ll meet you there.”
She laughed shakily. “OK. I’ll see you then,” and taking the first two glasses, fought her way back to the group, who were now ensconced round a table entirely covered with empty glasses. The girl in the red sweater was with them, and so was Chantal. She was crammed in between Mad’s boyfriend, Dan, and Dean from the house. Jill smiled across at her, and was met with a slightly defiant look, which dared her to comment. Jill shook her head slightly, thinking to herself that neither of them should be there, and went back to the bar for the rest of the drinks. When she returned to the table with the glasses, they all squashed together even more closely to make room for her, and she was crushed in beside Mad, and a girl called Pepper, who appeared to be with Dean; his arm was draped round her anyway.
Immediately she found herself involved in a drinking game, when to lose meant paying a forfeit, downing another drink, and before long she lost count of how many glasses of wine she’d had. Nor did she care. She was going to see Ben afterwards.
By the time Joe called “Time!” the whole lot of them were decidedly drunk. When Jane came over to clear the table and encourage them to leave, she suddenly saw Chantal.
“Chantal Haven,” she exploded. “What the hell are you doing here? You know you’re under age. You’ll lose me my licence. Out! Now! I told you before you wouldn’t be served in here. Out!” Chantal staggered to her feet, and Jane turned on the rest of them. “We’re good to you lot in here. Let you make as much noise and carry on as you like, but if I catch one of you buying that kid a drink in here again, you’ll be banned. I mean it!” She glared round at them in rage. When her face lit on Jill, she hissed, “And you, Jill Hammond, you know better than to buy a child her age a drink. Look at her, she can hardly stand.”
Jill looked and saw that it was true. “I didn’t buy her a drink, Mrs Short, I bought her a coke.” She spoke carefully to be sure her words came out in the right order. “Just a Coca Cola.”
“Well, someone’s been feeding her with booze. God knows what her mother’ll say. Now, out the lot of you. I’ve got to clear up.” She stalked back to the bar, and the giggles that had been suppressed round the table burst forth as they all staggered to their feet.
The New Neighbours Page 30
