Downsizing (10 page)

Noah somehow suppressed the urge to throttle
her. “I didn’t think even you could be that cruel,” he said in a
mordant tone.

“
What do you mean? I
only—”

Noah placed his hands on Cassie’s shoulders
and shook her hard. “You couldn’t even let her enjoy her moment of
glory, could you? Everything always has to be about
you.”

She looked up at him, the inevitable tears in
her eyes, her expression calculating. “Noah, don’t, you’re hurting
me.” His hands dropped abruptly from her shoulders. In the same
movement he stepped away from her, spitting expletives as he fought
to control his anger. Never in his life before had he come so close
to hitting a woman. “Don’t be angry with me, darling, I’m sure it
can’t be good for our baby. I only did what I thought you’d want me
to do.”

“
Maxine has gone, Cassie! Gone.”
Noah shouted the words at her. “And I didn’t even get to say
goodbye,” he added, his voice now unnaturally quiet.

“
Noah, please!” she wheedled. “I’m
sorry if I upset her. I didn’t understand.”

“
Oh, you understood all right,
just as I’m starting to understand you.”

“
What do you mean?” Alarm
flickered across her features.

“
I don’t think I can live with a
woman who’s so deliberately cruel.” He turned his back to her. “I
don’t think I can go through with this parody of a marriage after
all.”

She clawed at his arm, tears streaming down
her face. “Darling, don’t say that.”

He shook her off. The touch of her hand on his
arm made his skin crawl. “I’ve gotta get out of here. I need time
to think.”

He didn’t hear her hysterical wailing as he
walked away, unaware it was the first time in her life that such a
display hadn’t got her what she wanted.

* * * *

Maxine didn’t remember much about her journey
to Cambridge. Someone met her at the station, but she couldn’t
recall afterward if it had been Gwen or Derek. She did remember
being fussed over and bundled into a car and must have provided
answers to the barrage of questions directed toward her. She did it
without being aware of what she said, her mind as empty as her now
existence.

With detached indifference she waited for the
pain to reassert itself, but nothing of a cataclysmic nature
occurred. It was as though she was living in a tight vacuum that
refused to entertain emotional turbulence. She wondered if she was
having one of those out-of-body experiences that were all the rages
nowadays. Or perhaps the answer was less sophisticated, and she was
simply losing her mind.

She was greeted boisterously by Derek’s
children, who ran round her in excited circles. Only then did she
pull herself together and rustle up a modicum of enthusiasm for
their benefit. Four-year-old Peter, with his shock of dark curls
and intense, serious eyes was the mirror image of his father.
Nancy, at two-and-a-half, was a delight. She shadowed her elder
brother, wobbling behind him on plump legs and asking an endless
stream of questions that had no place in the vocabulary of a child
her age. Derek himself took after their father’s side of the
family. He was stick-thin, bearded and bespectacled, fiercely
intelligent, and self-assured.

“
Come on, Max!” Peter slipped his
hand into hers, and if she’d still possessed the ability to feel
any emotion the gesture would have delighted her. He dragged her
toward the bed-sit that was to be her home for the next three
years. “Mummy’s made it all pretty and we helped.”

“
I’m sure she couldn’t have done
it without you.”

The bed-sit was smaller than Maxine remembered
and stark in its simplicity. There was a single bed and
cheap-looking wardrobe. An over-stuffed two-seater settee and a
coffee table were paired with a mismatched round table and two
ancient dining chairs. There was no television, but Maxine hadn’t
supposed there would be. Her brother’s family made their own
entertainment. A small alcove served as a make-shift kitchen. It
contained a sink and an antiquated fridge with pictures the
children had drawn to welcome her stuck to the door with a
chimpanzee magnet. A cupboard housed chipped china that looked as
though it had been rescued from a charity shop. There was a modern
microwave and, naturally, a kettle. The shower room was so tiny
that Maxine had to turn sideways to get through the
door.

But she didn’t care. The delight she’d
anticipated feeling on her first day of independence in this tiny
flat had gone the same way as the rest of her aspirations. Nothing
mattered any more. Gwen had obviously made an effort to brighten
the place up by hanging colorful curtains that were a little too
short to cover the entire window. There was a bright patchwork
quilt on the bed and a smattering of cushions that hid the worn
patches on the settee.

“
I know it’s not much, Max, but
it’s the best we can do right now,” explained Gwen apologetically.
“But at least it’s so small that it’ll be easy to keep
warm.”

“
It’s fine,” Maxine assured her.
“There’s everything I need here. Besides, you’ve got your
priorities right and put in plenty of book shelves.”

“
I knew you wouldn’t mind,” Derek
said. “Besides, you won’t need to cook because you’ll take your
meals with us. We just thought you’d appreciate having somewhere to
be private.”

“
We didn’t put any pictures up
because we thought you’d like to choose your own.”

“
We did, Mummy,” Peter said in a
tone of mild censorship. “They’re on the fridge.”

“
I’ve already seen them, Peter,
and I think they’re splendid.”

“
Now then, kids,” Gwen said,
swinging Nancy into her arms and dragging Peter away from his rapt
examination of a fly crawling up the windowpane. “Let’s go back to
the house and leave your aunt to get settled. Come across when
you’re ready, Max, and we’ll have supper. And then tomorrow we’ll
introduce you to Cambridge properly.”

Maxine didn’t move for some time after they
left her. As the children’s chatter faded, she was left in blessed
peace with nothing but her thoughts to torment her. She wondered
when the pain would strike, suspicious about its prolonged absence,
and if she’d be able to exorcise it by giving vent to her emotions.
But whatever protective barrier had erected itself round her heart
didn’t want to shift, so she eventually saw to her unpacking, her
mind a total void.

Only when it came to the one picture of Noah
that she’d brought with her did she experience a reaction. It was a
black-and-white shot she’d taken of him quite recently, and as
always he was wearing a white T-shirt and jeans. He was stretched
out on the grass by the river, leaning back on his elbows and
looking up at the camera, long hair blowing in the wind, laughter
in his eyes. She recalled him giving her instructions on how to get
the best angle, convinced that he knew best. She’d pressed the
shutter without his being aware of it, catching him in a relaxed
pose.

Her heart lurched. She let out a strangled
gasp, pushed the picture under a pile of books, and fled to the
main house.

The exploration of Cambridge was to be a
family affair. Maxine hadn’t given any thought to getting around,
assuming it would be achieved in her brother’s battered
Vauxhall.

“
Lord no,” Derek said. “No one
drives in Cambridge. Come on, I’ve got a present for
you.”

They headed for the garage and found Gwen and
the children donning cycling helmets. Maxine paled.

“
Don’t look like that, Max.
Everyone cycles round here, so you’d best get used to
it.”

“
But its miles,” she
wailed.

“
Only just over three and the
roads are flat. Besides, it’ll do you good. Get rid of some of that
excess weight.”

“
Derek!” Gwen, busy strapping
Nancy into the seat at the back of her bike, looked
appalled.

“
If I can’t tell my own sister the
truth then who can?” Derek asked, unrepentant.

“
It’s okay, Gwen. I know he’s
right. But still, I’m not at all sure about this. I haven’t ridden
a bike since I was a kid.”

“
Well, it’s always the first
example people sight when they refer to the mind’s retentive
powers, isn’t it.”

“
I suppose so.” Maxine nodded
doubtfully as Derek wheeled an ancient-looking machine out of the
garage. It had an old-fashioned basket sitting in front of the
handlebars and a bell that jingled as he pushed it over the bumpy
drive.

“
It might be old, but it’s in
excellent working order. I’ve oiled the chain, or whatever it was I
was supposed to oil,” he said vaguely. “I think it was the chain.
Anyway, what’s more important is that the brakes work. Come on, off
we go.”

Maxine was full of misgivings, especially now
that she knew her brother, who had a brilliant mind but was
hopeless when it came to anything practical, had dealt with the
maintenance of this machine. Left with no choice she mounted up and
wobbled out of the driveway, but even little Peter outstripped her
on his bike with training wheels as she panted to keep
up.

* * * *

Three days had passed since Noah had found out
about Cassie’s spiteful behavior toward Maxine, and he still hadn’t
decided what to do about it. First he had to speak to Maxine. He
couldn’t think about anything else until he’d attempted to explain
things to her. He’d tried reaching her at the number Mrs. Small had
given him, but he hadn’t been able to get hold of her. Either the
phone rang without being answered, or whoever did answer it said
she wasn’t there. He suspected that she was. He was sure he’d heard
her voice in the background at least once talking to a child. But
she never returned his calls, leaving him to conclude that she must
now hate him.

But not as much as he hated
himself.

Stubbornly refusing to give up on her, he
decided to write to her instead. Four attempts later he was no
nearer to getting the wording right and the only thing he had to
show for his labors was an increased sense of self-revulsion.
Stoically he persevered, finally managing to get it as right as he
ever would on the fifth attempt. He had just sealed the envelope
when the bell rang. He yanked the door open, expecting it to be
Joey. Instead Charles Turner, dressed in immaculate tennis
clothing, stood on the doorstep.

“
I’ve been sent to arbitrate,” he
said with a good-natured smile.

“
Come in, Charles.”

Charles sat at the table Noah had used as a
writing desk and glanced round the cluttered room. Noah quickly
covered the envelope addressed to Maxine with a
newspaper.

“
Is your father not here?” Charles
asked.

“
No. He’s moved to Brighton. His
latest squeeze shares his love of the turf and has a flat there.
Close to the racecourse, obviously.”

“
I see.” Charles leveled a
non-judgmental gaze upon Noah. “So, what are you going to do about
Cassie? Have you made up your mind?”

“
No, not yet.”

“
Well, whatever you decide, you’ll
have my support. It’s not an easy call for you to make. Her
behavior was inexcusable.” He paused, his expression sympathetic.
“I realize Maxine means a lot to you.”

Noah sighed. “Thank you, Charles, but in spite
of what Cassie’s done, I really don’t have a lot of
choice.”

“
So you still intend to marry
her?”

“
I suppose.”

“
I’m very angry with her, too, and
she knows it. I’m fond of Maxine myself.”

“
Yeah, well, she won’t talk to me,
and I can’t say as I blame her.”

“
Noah,” Charles said, abruptly
changing the subject. “Do you have a pair of shorts?”

Noah, wallowing in another bout of
self-loathing, looked up in surprise. “Why do you ask?”

“
Have you ever played
tennis?”

Noah shook his head. “I don’t have time for
games.”

“
Oh, it’s much more than a game.
If you want to make a name for yourself, and more importantly forge
useful contacts in this town, then the best place to do that is on
the tennis court. Well, actually, it’s in the bar after your game,
but let’s not split hairs.”

“
I thought that sort of thing was
done on the golf course.”

“
It is as well, but I favor
tennis. Golf is far too long winded for my taste. And as for those
awful sweaters they wear…” Charles shuddered, causing Noah to let
out a mirthless chuckle.

“
Yeah, you’ve got a
point.”

“
Come on then. Get changed, and
I’ll give you your first lesson before my game.”

“
I ought to be
working.”

“
This is work, Noah. If you’re
going to be successful you must take a broader view.”

Noah, too morose to argue, allowed himself to
be led onto a tennis court for the first time in his life. He was
too self-absorbed to pay much attention to the scathing looks being
cast in his direction. Graham stopped in the middle of a fierce
game of men’s doubles to stare in disbelief.