River Deep (26 page)

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Authors: Rowan Coleman

BOOK: River Deep
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‘You don’t fool me, lady,’ Sheila confirmed briskly. ‘Who was that on the phone? You’re up to something. I’ve always known when you’re up to something, like that time when you stole entire boxes of crisps out of the cellar to flog to the other kids at school …’

‘That was Jim!’ Maggie protested, but Sheila went on regardless.

‘Listen, I know it’s something to do with Christian and I just want to say this.’ She paused and took a breath. ‘I am showing a lot of faith in you, giving you the money to sort this place out. Now I’m not doing it because I want to see you beholden to me, so don’t think that I am. I’m doing it to give you a chance to make the most of your abilities. I know you’re a grown woman and you’ll do what you will as far as your “love” life is concerned. But I’m asking you, for my sake, not to throw this chance away. Because it’s the chance that I never got, that I never got to give to my baby. And I want you to make it more than anything, OK? It’ll mean that
something
good came out of that marriage, at any rate. It’ll mean that I’ve achieved
something
.’

Maggie dumped her papers in one pile and hugged Sheila’s unrelenting body.

‘I’m sorry, Sheila,’ she said. ‘I promise you I will get this right, whatever happens with Christian.’ She fished out her soggy To Do list and showed it to Sheila. ‘Look, I’m going out to all these industry suppliers on Monday to do costing for the kitchen, and I’ve got a friend who works in interiors coming in for a chat on Tuesday to get some ideas going. I’m engaging an accountant, and once the finance is in place I’ll settle the outstanding invoices. See?’ Maggie took Sheila’s hand. ‘I won’t let you down, I promise. Nobody’s ever shown the kind of faith in me that you have. And anyway, you
have
achieved something in this life – you’ve always been here for
me
. Maybe you don’t think that’s very much, but I do, and I love you for it.’

Sheila squeezed her fingers tightly and blinked. ‘Here, this came this morning.’ She produced an official-looking letter from her trouser pocket. ‘It says the money’ll be transferred by the end of the next week. And I love you and all.’

She threw Maggie one last chastising look for good measure as she prepared to set up the bar.

‘It’s not me I’m worried about you letting down, Mag, it never has been. It’s you letting down yourself I’m worried about.’

Chapter Twenty-two

On her way into town, Maggie stopped by The Sharp End to see if Sarah was still alive. By the look of her – her skin waxen and greasy, her eyes still the colour of claret and her lips drained of all colour – the answer was yes, but barely. The salon door was open and several fans buzzed around the clients. The place was jam-packed and extremely hot. Maggie caught Sarah’s eye and waited as she excused herself from her client.

‘Can’t stop,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘Can’t move, speak or breath without wanting to throw up, either. At least the kids are still out. Leanne’s mum’s taken Becca to the flicks, thank God. I couldn’t stand her sermonising on top of all this.’ She gestured at the salon. ‘Thanks, by the way, for looking out for me last night.’

‘That’s what friends do, and it’s nice to have a turn for a change, anyway.’ Maggie gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘Still, you had a good night, though?’

Sarah wrinkled her nose. ‘Did I?’ she asked hesitantly. ‘I remember you coming in and saying you’d binned Christian once and for all, thank God. I remember you slinking off with the fit bloke, you dark horse – must pin you down about that later. I remember snogging Falcon and I remember … no, I don’t. That’s it.’

‘Well, you and Falcon were … you know.’ Maggie paused, aware of the attentive ears of some waiting customers.

‘Did we … you know?’ Sarah asked her.

‘Yeah!’ Maggie was shocked but surprised that her friend could not remember having sex with Falcon. After all, it wasn’t the first time.

‘Oh Christ, I’ll have to go to the chemist. Better not leave it to chance this time, hey?’

Sarah laughed nervously, and Maggie knew she was referring to Sam’s conception after a particularly rowdy night with Marcus, his father. A night which had also started in The Fleur, Maggie remembered, back when it used to have customers, and when Marcus and the rest of White Watch used to come in for a drink after a shift at the fire station. Sarah had been smitten with his pumped-up muscles and jet-black eyes. She hadn’t expected him to be sweet and sensitive along with it. His romantic side had shocked her considerably, and his constant attempts to be more than just a fling finished them off in the end. When he’d found out about Sam he’d been thrilled to be a father, but gutted that Sarah wouldn’t keep seeing him, let alone marry him. Maggie had always been sad about that. He was a great dad, Becca got on with him and it was clear he wished that Sarah had given him a chance to stay in all of their lives on a more permanent basis. But she wouldn’t have any of it. Just as she would never have had an abortion, she would never have a husband. It was some kind of mad logic that made sense only to her, and which, despite Maggie’s numerous attempts to get her to talk, she would never explain.

‘You should be all right – Maggie dropped a voice to a whisper – ‘I found a used condom in the sink.’

Sarah shook her head and closed her eyes to try and shut out the excruciating embarrassment. Maggie went on in her normal voice, ‘Falcon was worried you’d fall in love with him,’ she smiled.

Sarah clapped her hands over her face and then regarded Maggie through a gap in her fingers. ‘I don’t think I’ll be going
there
again!’ she said, as if the notion was preposterous.

Maggie laughed. ‘That’s what I said, sort of.’

‘Thanks, mate. Listen, I’m chocka all day. You couldn’t pop into Boots and get me a …’ She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘… a morning-after job, could you? Best to be double-sure.’

Maggie thought of the day’s plans. ‘I could, but I’m going up to London. I won’t be back until late. Will that matter?’ Maggie had never needed to take the morning-after pill.

‘Yeah, I think you can take it within seventy-two hours,’ Sarah said. ‘I mean it’s probably fine, but I don’t want a brummie baby with pink hair in nine months’ time! Two’s more than enough! Right, I’d better get back. Thanks, mate.’

Maggie caught her friend’s arm just as she was about to turn away. ‘Are you OK?’ she asked, looking into her eyes.

‘Me? Yeah. I mean, hungover but yeah,’ Sarah said making a considerable effort to sound bright and breezy.

‘OK.’ Maggie paused. ‘Let’s do something tomorrow, you, me, Becca and Sam. A picnic or something?’ she called out as Sarah retreated into the salon.

‘Yeah, the kids’ll love that.’

Sarah turned back to her client. Maggie stood for a moment longer and examined Sarah’s profile as she bent over the woman in front of her. She was always so tough – hard as nails, Sheila would say. The kind of woman never to let anything get to her. But Maggie thought she’d seen a tiny tear in her tissue-paper armour, a tiny glimpse of something else – something lonely, frightened. Maybe it was just the hangover and the thought of having unprotected sex – that would scare Maggie rigid. But maybe it was something else, something that was always there to be found if Maggie would only look hard enough.

‘I’ll ask her tomorrow,’ Maggie resolved, and as she walked back up the road towards the station she began practising being Carmen Da Vinci, events organiser, girl about town and international spy.

‘Carmen, hi!’ Maggie blinked behind her shades as Louise bent to kiss her on each cheek. ‘Sorry I’m late – I got a bit delayed on the tube.’ She sat opposite Maggie and looked around at the busy street, full of café tables and Soho’s Saturday crowd all glammed up to the nines, poised for an eventful Saturday night.

Maggie’s heart sank. Louise looked incredible, really beautiful. Her skin glowed and glittered in the sunshine and her curves filled out her white V-neck vest and pink Capri pants in exactly the right places. Even the gay men were checking her out, although probably for make-up tips.

‘Have you been here long?’

Maggie shook her head and pushed her shades up her nose. She had in fact been sitting in the full glare of the midday sun for twenty minutes, long enough for her skin to become slippery with sweat.

‘You look like you must love the sun, anyway. What is your background? Spanish? Italian? Anyway, you look great!’

Louise sat opposite her, and as she stretched her arm above her head to attract the attention of the waiter, Maggie, along with most of the rest of the café clientele, assessed the rise and fall of her breasts during this manoeuvre, trying to guess if they were real or fake. Maggie had to concede that they
were
probably real, just as Louise had said. This impressed her, but whether Christian cared one way or the other she had no way of knowing. He’d always told her he wasn’t into big tits and arses. Had he been lying? Let’s face it, he had set a precedent for dishonesty.

‘What are you having? I’ll have an iced tea, I think,’ Louise told the entranced waiter. Her teeth sparkled as she talked, just like the diamond pendant that hung around her neck.

Maggie eyed it suspiciously, and before she could stop herself she found herself asking. ‘Did Christian buy you that? I mean, it’s so lovely!’ She had not managed to cover her defensive tone, and she hoped that Louise would interpret it as just plain envy. Christian had never bought her anything very much – aside from the sofa, and he still had that.

Louise’s fingers sprang to her neck and she gave a little girl’s laugh.

‘This? Yes, I feel so lucky. I mean, he takes me out to dinner and he pays for the rent on the flat …’

Maggie tried to clamp her lips into a tightly fashioned smile, but it was no good. ‘He pays your rent?’ she all but growled.

‘Oh yeah. When he first offered me the job, I told him I was worried about how much it cost to rent in London. After all, I’d always lived at home in Cheltenham. And he just got out his chequebook and wrote me a cheque for a thousand pounds right then and there. He said I should use it as a deposit and that I could consider accommodation a perk of the job. He said he’d need a London stopover anyway when Fresh Talent was fully operational. Of course I didn’t realise then that he intended us to be sharing a room!’ Louise giggled again and closed her eyes as if remembering something Maggie didn’t want to guess at. ‘It wasn’t long after that that he made his intentions perfectly clear, though!’

Maggie swallowed the last of her coffee in one hot gulp. If Louise was telling the truth – and she had no reason to suspect otherwise – then Christian had set her up in her own flat before he’d even made a move on her. That made it all premeditated, as if infidelity – any infidelity – had always been on his mind, not just some hopeless attraction he couldn’t walk away from. No wonder he’d had to tell her so quickly. He wasn’t being noble and thoughtful; he must have known she’d spot it in the accounts eventually. Why? What had she done that was so wrong that it would drive him away like that?

‘Yes, the necklace was from him.’

Maggie returned her attention to Louise, her last words still stinging painfully in her ears, and realised she was still fingering the pendant tenderly.

‘It was his first gift to me. It’s not a bad one, is it? He said when he saw it he knew it would suit me perfectly. You know, Carmen,’ Louise continued with a small secret smile, ‘I’ve had quite a lot of boyfriends. But there’s something about Christian that’s much more special than all the attention and the presents he gives me.’

Maggie swallowed hard – she knew what was coming.

‘It’s that he makes me feel that it’s really
me
that he loves. Not just the packaging, but really me. The inside me. That means a lot.’ Louise gave Maggie a direct, solemn look. ‘And that’s why, Carmen, I can’t lose him. To anyone.’

Maggie nodded and sat back in her chair. Apparently Louise did need Christian as much she did. Maybe even more.

‘So what do you think?’ Louise made it clear she wanted to change the subject. ‘Do you think Christian was with Maggie last night?’

Maggie flinched as Louise spat her own name at her. She leaned forward a little and met Louise’s eye.

‘No,’ she said with palpable certainty. ‘I know he wasn’t with Maggie all of last night.’ She wanted Louise to believe her, for what it was worth.

‘Really?’ Louise bit her lip. ‘How come you’re so sure?’

Maggie thought for a moment.

‘Because if he was lying to you he’d have come up with a better excuse. Something like the meeting went on longer than he expected and he got too drunk to travel, or he missed the last train home. Something like that.’ Maggie recalled two of the excuses that Christian had given her during the beginning of his affair with Louise as she had made him his morning coffee and toast, being all sympathetic about his late nights. ‘He wouldn’t have said “I went for a walk and a think”. I mean, even a man knows that saying something like that is bound to make you crazy and start you asking questions. You did absolutely the right thing to be so cool about it. He won’t have been expecting that.’

Maggie noticed Louise visibly relax, the tension seeping out of her face and limbs. She warmed to her subject.

‘No, he was just being a typical dumb-arsed man and “walking” and “thinking” like he doesn’t already know what’s right for him, like it’s not staring him in the face!’ she exclaimed, making Louise laugh and nod her head vigorously.

‘Exactly!’ Louise said. ‘Sometimes I just want to go up to him and shake him by the shoulders and shout “Why don’t you know what’s right for you?”

Maggie laughed, letting her guard slip ever so slightly. OK, completely.

‘Yeah, I know I just want to get right in his face and tell him straight. It’s me. I’m the one who’s right for you, you idiot!’

Maggie’s laugh faltered to a stop as she saw Louise’s expression freeze.


You
want to say?’ Louise questioned her, looking justifiably confused.

Stifling the urge to say the first thing that came into her head, Maggie struggled to string together her story before the end of the sentence and settle on an approximation of the truth. Any more out-and-out lies and she was bound to blow it.

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