by Lesley Lokko
PART SEVEN
68
MADDY
London, April 2000
‘Do we have to go?’ Maddy turned round to look at her backside in the mirror. ‘Does this look all right?’ she asked anxiously.
Rafe looked as though he wasn’t sure which question to answer first. ‘Yes. To both,’ he said, adjusting the ribbon in Darcy’s hair. ‘There. All done, darling.’
‘Why don’t you and Darcy just go instead?’ Maddy murmured. ‘I’m sure Diana won’t mind if I don’t come.’
‘Maddy, stop being difficult. Come on, we haven’t been out in ages.’
It was on the tip of Maddy’s tongue to say that going round to Diana’s for lunch was hardly going out, but she managed – not without effort – to hold herself back. ‘All right, all right. Are you sure this looks OK? It’s kinda tight.’
‘It’s fine, darling,’ Rafe said, without looking up. Darcy had pulled the ribbon out of her hair for the fifth or sixth time and was now demanding that he put it back.
‘Darcy, will you stop it?’ Maddy couldn’t help herself. ‘Either leave the damned thing in or take it out. Your choice.’
Darcy looked at her mutinously. They stared at each other for a second, a battle of wills. Ridiculous, Maddy thought to herself. Darcy was three. How could you battle with a three-year-old? How? Darcy’s lower lip began to tremble. Maddy rolled her eyes and turned away. She couldn’t bear to watch what would surely follow. Tears. Naughty Mummy. Poor Darcy. She could almost hear Rafe’s thoughts. She was being silly. She knew exactly where Darcy’s appetite for performance came from. Bang on cue, Darcy began to cry. Rafe shook his head in exasperation and bent down to console her. Maddy walked out of the room.
She sat down on the edge of the bed. Her hands were trembling. Why did it always wind up that way? Where had she gone wrong with Darcy? She could hear Rafe’s soothing voice through the door – within seconds, Darcy had stopped wailing. With her, it was a different story. From the moment Darcy opened her eyes every morning to the realisation that Daddy wasn’t there, it was downhill all the way. Tears, tantrums, screams, shouts … those twelve long hours each day between Rafe’s departure and return home were nothing short of torture. For both of them. The minute Darcy was born, Maddy knew something was wrong. In her more despairing moments, she wondered if it had anything to do with the fuss she’d kicked up over her name. Diana had wanted to call her Elizabeth. Maddy had looked at him from the protection of her hospital bed.
‘You’re joking, right?’ she’d said, holding her baby tightly to her.
‘No. It’s my grandmother’s name. It’s a nice name.’ Rafe ran a hand through his hair. She recognised it as a gesture he made when agitated. A tremor of fear ran through her. ‘We could shorten it to Liz,’ he suggested hopefully.
‘No fucking way.’
‘Maddy!’ Rafe stared at her. ‘It’s my grandmother’s name.’
‘And she’s my daughter.’
They’d stared at each other, both taken aback by the sudden and hostile turn in the conversation. And at that moment, the baby had begun to scream. She hadn’t stopped since.
‘Maddy?’ Rafe tapped on the door. ‘Ready?’
‘Coming,’ she said, quickly averting her head. She didn’t want him to see her reddened eyes and nose. ‘Just going to the bathroom. I’ll be out in a second.’
She stared at her face in the mirror. She looked all right. Her eyes were wide and bright but she’d managed to avoid smudging her mascara. She turned her head sideways, considered her profile and quickly pinned up her hair. A last squirt of perfume, a dash of lipstick and she was ready. She squared her shoulders. Darcy would have her three favourite people in the world all doting on her today. With any luck she’d fall asleep soon after her early lunch and Maddy would be free to enjoy the conversation at lunch – or not.
‘It’s just us today, isn’t it?’ Maddy asked Rafe as they pulled away from the kerb. She wasn’t sure she could stand the thought of a large Keeler gathering.
‘I think so. Aaron and Julia are away.’
Maddy was silent. It had been three years since she and Julia had been thrown together by the accident of marriage. It seemed like a lifetime and yet she still hadn’t warmed to her. She’d wanted to like her, but there seemed to be no such desire on Julia’s part. She was always so terrifyingly busy. It unnerved Maddy. They met at Diana’s on Sundays; they met in Mougins – they were perfectly polite to one another, but it was clear that Julia thought Maddy a complete dolt, and Maddy … well, secretly she was terrified of Julia. At the last lunch they’d all had a little too much to drink – you had to, there was no other way of getting through the afternoon – and she’d made some comment about being bored in London … she wasn’t moaning or complaining – just stating a fact. Julia had suddenly opened her mouth and attacked her.
‘Why don’t you just get a job?’ she’d asked.
‘A job?’ Maddy could feel her face turning red. She saw Rafe looking at her strangely.
‘Yes, a job. Work. Like the rest of us.’
‘I’m an actress,’ Maddy said haltingly. ‘It’s really difficult. There aren’t many parts out there.’
‘Well, do something else. Volunteer. Whatever.’ Her cool grey-blue eyes flickered over Maddy; there was no mistaking the contempt she felt. Maddy wished desperately she’d never brought the subject up.
‘Dessert, anyone? More wine?’ Diana’s smooth voice quickly closed the matter. Maddy excused herself from the table and went into the bathroom to throw up. Another successful lunch chez Diana.
Oh well … win some, lose some. People always accused Americans of being overfriendly, too eager. What was wrong with being friendly? Maddy always thought. What was the harm in spreading a little charm?
She turned her head to look at Darcy, who, as soon as she’d been strapped in, had fallen asleep. Her heart suddenly and unexpectedly turned over. She looked positively angelic. She took after Rafe, that much was obvious, but there was a reddish tint to her strawberry blonde hair that was very much Maddy. Her temper was Maddy’s too, though few would suspect it. After her father disappeared, there just didn’t seem to be any point in getting angry or throwing the sort of tantrums she once had. The stunned look of loss on her mother’s face was enough to squash even the smallest hints of rage. She’d learned to keep her emotions well in check – it was only in acting, and in that other thing that she did from time to time, that they spilled out. Thinking about that ‘other thing’, she felt herself blush in the darkened interior of the car. She’d started again. Not every day, of course, but at least once a week. It was being alone with Darcy all day that did it. And then there was the time Darcy had wandered into the bathroom and caught her in the act. That was exactly what it felt like – she’d been caught out. Ridiculous. How could a child who wasn’t quite three catch her out? She’d stood there in the doorway for a few minutes, as quiet as a mouse. Maddy hadn’t noticed her. She’d lifted her head, her eyes streaming and her stomach still heaving, and turned to get a tissue – and then she’d seen her. Darcy had her thumb in her mouth, but her huge blue-green eyes were fixed accusingly on Maddy. ‘Mom’s not very well,’ she’d gasped, embarrassment flooding through her veins. ‘Go on up to your room, honey. I’ll come by in a minute. I’ll read you a story, would you like that?’ Darcy said nothing. Just turned and trotted off. Maddy was left with the sour taste of vomit in her mouth, only now it was mixed with guilt.
Fortunately, lunch looked as though it would be a quiet affair. Aaron and Julia had gone on holiday somewhere to celebrate the fact that she’d been offered a junior partnership in the law firm where she worked. From Diana’s guarded, barbed comments, Maddy was led to understand that Julia’s career was beginning to take off – and Aaron’s wasn’t. He was older than Julia, and more experienced. He’d worked as a solicitor before becoming a barrister, so he ought to have been much further along in his career. He wasn’t and it was clearly one thin
g Diana couldn’t solve for him. It puzzled Maddy; she was forever hearing about how brilliant Diana’s boys were – clearly, things weren’t going according to Diana’s plan. She could see how much it annoyed Diana to have to talk about Julia, not Aaron. As for her other sister-in-law … it had been over a year since she’d seen Josh or Niela. They were both on assignment – Josh somewhere in the Far East and Niela a little closer to home, Jordan or Syria … somewhere remote and unimaginable like that. She couldn’t imagine their lives. Niela was now a full-time interpreter, travelling all over the place. Maddy liked Niela, insofar as you could like someone you’d only met twice.
The wines were excellent, as usual. Maddy nursed a large glass of white and watched Diana fuss over Darcy as she gave her an early lunch. Harvey kept her brilliantly amused with anecdotes about his day. Maddy tried to attune her performance to suit the occasion – not too loud, not too funny, not too brash. It was the only chance she got these days to act. Darcy was the centre of attention for thirty minutes and then, holding tightly on to Rafe on one side and Diana on the other, she was led upstairs to the room that Diana had redecorated just for her. Maddy hated it – pastel-coloured walls covered in stencils from children’s books she’d never heard of and windows swathed in yards of pink silk. Pink silk? For a three-year-old? Darcy loved it, of course. My fairy-tale room. Or some such.
‘So what have you been up to lately?’ Harvey asked, removing a large casserole pot from the oven. He placed it carefully on one side and lifted the lid. A wonderful, rich aroma of fish and herbs immediately filled the room. ‘Smells good, doesn’t it?’ he asked conversationally, replacing the lid.
‘Oh, nothing much.’ Maddy perched on one of the swivel stools at the breakfast bar, watching him prepare the table. His movements were neat and precise, just like his son’s. Surgeons, she supposed. She remembered the first time she and Rafe had talked – properly talked – in New York. She’d been fascinated then by his hands; almost more expressive than his words. Harvey was the same. She took another sip of wine. ‘The weeks just seem to fly by, don’t they?’ she said, trying to find the right level of banter to match his tone.
Harvey paused in his preparations. ‘Did you ever hear back from that agent? The one you were going to see the last time we saw you?’
Maddy shook her head slowly from side to side. ‘Nope. Not a thing. Not even a return phone call. I don’t know … I don’t think I expected it to be quite this hard.’
‘You mustn’t give up.’
Maddy looked at him quickly. As was often the way with Harvey, something more was being said. She liked him enormously. He was kind, with the sort of gentle manner she’d always associated with English actors of a certain generation. He had a way of looking you directly in the eye, head cocked to one side whilst listening, as if you were the most important person in the room. ‘I … I won’t,’ she said uncertainly.
‘Won’t what?’ Rafe’s voice sounded just behind her ear. Maddy jumped guiltily, as if she’d been caught out.
‘Give up.’ Harvey handed his son a glass. ‘We’re looking forward to seeing you on the stage, my dear. Now … where’s your mother? We’re almost ready to eat.’
‘She’ll be down in a minute. Darcy’s almost asleep.’ Rafe’s hand came to rest on the nape of Maddy’s neck. She felt a sudden tremor of apprehension run through her, instantly skimming away. Across the table Harvey was looking at her with an expression she preferred not to meet. For a moment, when it was just the two of them talking, she’d felt a warmth from him that disarmed her. She didn’t want to spoil it. She took another cautious sip of wine and felt their attention slowly slip away. She was relieved, in both senses of the word.
69
JULIA
London, May 2000
Julia slipped out of bed, taking care not to wake Aaron, and hurried across the floor to the bathroom. She closed the door as quietly as she could, slid the bolt and opened the medicine cabinet. She fumbled around in her little washbag until she found the small white carton she’d been looking for. She pulled it out and looked at it, her heart thudding. Clearblue. Results in less than a minute.
She perched herself awkwardly on the edge of the toilet, pulled off the wrapping and positioned the stick to catch the flow of urine. She waited for a full minute as instructed, held her breath and then withdrew it slowly. She drew a deep breath and looked down. Nothing. The little window was clear. No blue line. The hot flush of disappointment was physical. She bent over, wrapping her arms around herself, trying desperately not to burst into tears. She waited a few moments, then got up, flushed the toilet and dropped the useless stick in the waste-basket. It was the third time she’d taken the test and the results were always the same: negative. She’d told no one – not her friends, not Dom and certainly not Aaron. She wasn’t sure how he would react. After their return from Mougins at Christmas that year, a strange fear had begun slowly to creep over her. Until that point, she’d been happy, content. For the first time in years, her first waking moments were ones of pleasure, sometimes even joy. It had been so long since she’d experienced it. Little things. The feel of Aaron’s bare sole against hers or the way he held her as he slept, a hand always touching some part of her as if he were afraid to let her go. The way he called out to her as soon as he came through the front door. ‘Jules?’ It was her father’s nickname for her. Aaron didn’t know that – how could he? The first time he’d said it she’d stopped dead in her tracks, a ripple of emotion running up and down her back. ‘My dad used to call me that,’ she’d said to him softly, turning round.
‘Suits you.’ He’d grinned at her, unaware of its impact. ‘C’mere, Jules.’ He’d held out his arms. A small gesture of the sort he made every day. Nothing special, but in its simplicity there was absolution. He’d begun to take the hurt away.
There’d been a short period of bliss, and then the fears began to creep in – of a different kind, perhaps, but they terrified her nonetheless. It would all disappear. There would be an accident. Aaron would find someone else. She would lose her job. The scenarios were endless and unfounded but she was unable to stop. She found herself thinking up ever more intricate ways to bind herself more fully into the life she’d found herself in – which essentially meant his life – except that it wasn’t in her nature to depend on anyone, least of all a man. She’d always been a loner, content with one or two close friends, never looking to be the life and soul of the party. She hated that side of her that sat up at night waiting for him to come home after a night out with his friends. It was bad enough that they worked in the same office – to her horror, she found herself suggesting they lunch together or wait for one another to go home. For a few weeks the twin urges inside her fought for control, and then, one morning, it came to her suddenly, literally out of the blue. A child. A child would seal the gaps, heal the pain that losing any part of her new-found happiness would bring. She loved Aaron; he loved her. What more perfect way to put the panic to rest?
Except that nothing was happening. It’s only been three months, she told herself, splashing cold water over her face. She looked anxiously at her reddened nose in the bathroom mirror. Three months is nothing. She picked up the face cloth and passed it over her burning cheeks. It’ll happen soon. Of course it will. She switched off the light and opened the door. Aaron was still fast asleep. It was a Sunday. The weather outside was cold and rainy. Diana had rung that morning to complain they hadn’t been round for lunch in ages. They’d been away the month before; why didn’t they come round that afternoon? Julia wasn’t sure she could bear it. She’d somehow managed to persuade Aaron to decline. Maddy and Rafe would be there with Darcy, the very picture of family bliss that Julia so badly craved. That it should find expression in that vacuous, overfriendly American and Aaron’s older, slightly pompous brother was hard to take. She slipped back into bed beside Aaron and thought back to the last Sunday lunch, which was the last time she’d seen them. Maddy had been moaning about being bored in
London and Julia just couldn’t stop herself.
‘Why don’t you just get a job?’ she’d asked. She saw Rafe’s head jerk upwards and she wondered if she’d spoken out of turn.
‘A job?’ Maddy echoed, as if it were the most novel idea she’d ever heard.
‘Yes, a job. Work.’
‘I’m an actress,’ Maddy said haltingly. ‘It’s really difficult. There aren’t many parts …’ Her voice trailed off. Julia saw her look at Rafe.
‘Well, do something else. I’m sure there’s loads of other things you can do.’
‘Julia,’ Aaron interrupted her, a look of gentle warning in his eyes.
‘Dessert, anyone? More wine?’ Diana quickly cut short the conversation.
‘Did you have to?’ Aaron had asked her afterwards as they’d walked back home.
Julia’s face immediately reddened. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘I didn’t mean to. But she doesn’t half get on my nerves.’
