River Deep (45 page)

But on the other hand, that wasn’t really a fair judgement. So the only other thing Maggie couldn’t control about tonight was a boyfriend. Someone else’s boyfriend, to be precise. Stella’s fiancé, if she was going to be really accurate.

Maggie had no way of knowing if Pete was coming tonight, and no way of knowing what it would mean if he did come. In fact she’d gone over and over the permutations of her impulsive invite to him via Falcon ever since she’d made it two weeks ago. She bit her lip hard, as Keisha’s description of the duck and fig tart filling washed over her.

It was all Sarah’s fault. If Sarah hadn’t gone through with that stupid deal they’d made in about five seconds flat and mainly only for a laugh, if she hadn’t agreed to go out to dinner with Marcus and then apparently had a really good time and agreed to see him again – but only dating him, apparently, not even sleeping with him, just taking things easy for Sam’s sake – if she hadn’t done all that and if she wasn’t still seeing Marcus on a near daily basis and looking all happy and radiant about him, then Maggie wouldn’t have to face the possibility of going through with her end of the bargain.

Which was to tell Pete how she felt about him.

Sarah had badgered her. It had started out with casual comments like, ‘You were so right about taking chances, Maggie, it’s so worth it!’ Which gradually escalated to things like, ‘You wouldn’t want to spend the rest of your life wondering if that kiss was just a fluke, would you?’ until it reached a final crescendo.

‘You’re a coward,’ Sarah had said over a cappuccino. ‘I’m not dissing you, I’m just stating the facts. You are a coward. Now there’s nothing wrong with being a coward, I’ve been one most of my life, but – well, I really think you have to just try and talk to him. The worst that can happen is abject humiliation, and you’re getting quite good at that now.’ She squinted at Maggie. ‘Look at you! You go all stupid whenever you think about him!’

Maggie (who at that precise moment had sort of misted over as she remembered the feel of Pete’s touch and the heat of his body) denied it vehemently.

‘I do not! And besides, Sarah, he’s got a girlfriend, and not just a girlfriend – a
fiancée
. You can’t mess with fiancées. I mean, he’s marrying someone else! What on earth gives you the idea that I should march round there and say, “Oh, hi – how are the plans for the wedding going? Oh, and by the way, I think I love you!”’

Sarah rolled her eyes. ‘Because then at least you’d know,’ she persisted, as if that were a good enough reason.

‘But I don’t want to know! I don’t want to know that he’s perfectly happy with Stella – and besides, I don’t need to know. He’s already told me on several occasions. I’ve had enough rejection to last me a lifetime. Even if I am over Christian, it still smarts, you know, a bit. To have it from Pete would be worse, much, much worse. He’s mad about Stella. He never stopped talking about her.’

‘Well, evidently he stopped long enough to kiss you – and anyway, you told me she sounded like a total nightmare. And if he was
that
happy, why did he kiss
you
?’

It was Maggie’s turn to roll her eyes. ‘I don’t know what’s happened to you recently,’ she said. ‘You used to be the Hannibal Lecter of dating. Toughest bastard I knew. Now, after a couple of dates with Marcus and a bit of heavy petting on the salon sofa, you’ve practically turned into Maria Von Trapp.’ Maggie examined Sarah’s delighted face. ‘You don’t even mind that Becca’s going to Boston for the Christmas holidays!’

Sarah shrugged. ‘She needs to see her dad, and anyway Sam and I will be out there with her for actual Christmas, and we’re all coming back together – it will be fun!’

Maggie sulked. It used to be Sarah who was the good-looking one (Maggie was the skinny, quiet one), and then, when they grew up, she was the practical one in control of her life (Maggie was the overambitious one). Now Sarah was the practical, happy, well-adjusted one with a great relationship. What did that make Maggie? The career-orientated one, she decided. Who needs a personal life anyway, she thought to herself. Love just gets in the way, as someone she once knew always used to say.

‘I think I liked the old you better. The miserable and bitter one.’ Maggie sighed painfully. ‘He kissed me, Sarah, because he was a bit drunk and he felt like it. Because he was a man, and that’s what men do, don’t they? Or don’t you remember any of those lectures you used to give me now that you’re in
lurve
?

Sarah shook her head, but she was laughing like her teenage daughter did on the phone.

‘I’m not in love! I’m just having a nice time, which makes a flipping change, I can tell you.’

She paused and composed her features.

‘What if you invited Pete and Stella to the party?’

Maggie started to protest, but Sarah cut her off.

‘Think about it – if he comes alone, well, then, you’re in. If he comes with her, it gives you a chance to see them together – study the form, so to speak. If he doesn’t come at all, then you’ll sort of be back to square one,
but
the first two options could work, couldn’t they?’

Maggie looked into the bottom of her coffee cup and thought about it.

‘I’m too old for all this planning and wondering and worry. Next you’ll be asking him out for me. Or passing him a note.’

‘Could do,’ Sarah said, only half joking.

‘Don’t you dare!’ Maggie had been unable to prevent herself acting appalled at the idea, even though she knew it would never happen. ‘OK, I
will
invite him. I’ll ask Falcon to invite the whole lot of them as regulars. After all, I’ve invited Mrs Kim and a couple of other old customers. But you wait and see. I bet Pete and Stella are all over each other … What?’ Maggie noticed that Sarah was frowning.

‘I’d forgotten about Falcon. He’s not the sort of bloke to go up to Marcus and say, “Oh, by the way, I had your date in the ladies”, is he?’

Maggie shook her head. Over the last few weeks she’d got to know Falcon quite well, at first as a way of trying to glean any snippet of information about Pete she could (there had been little), but gradually because he was quite a sound bloke and strangely philosophical.

‘No, no he won’t. I think your little encounter gave him something to think about for a while, but from what he says there’s someone else he’s into now. Really into as well, I think.’

Sarah nodded gratefully. ‘So invite them all. And when you get a chance to talk to Pete alone, Stella or no Stella, just take a chance – OK?’

Maggie had no intention of doing any such thing, but she wanted Sarah to stop talking long enough for her to eat her double chocolate muffin without distraction.

‘OK,’ she’d said. And Sarah had looked triumphant.

‘And then, I thought, we bring round the mini dark chocolate and strawberry cheesecake as a sort of dessert before offering coffee. Is that OK?’ Keisha was speaking directly to Maggie.

‘Fantastic!’ Maggie said, unable to ask her to repeat everything. ‘Fabulous. Well done.’ She looked at her watch, wondering if she had enough time to go upstairs, sit on her bed and be a gibbering wreck for half an hour.

‘So,’ Louise said with a slow smile. ‘What are you wearing tonight, Maggie? Got your outfit planned?’

Maggie looked down at her somewhat creased and shiny trouser suit.

‘Oh, um …’ She’d actually thought about just wearing this.

‘You’re not thinking of wearing that old thing, are you?’ Louise seemed genuinely horrified. ‘You need something glamorous, something the photographer will want to get a pic of you in.’

Maggie mentally ran through the contents of her wardrobe. She instinctively looked at Christian as she panicked.

‘Oh God, I haven’t got anything to wear!’ she moaned.

Louise took her arm and, unnervingly, gave her a little hug.

‘Don’t worry, there’s plenty of time! I’ll tell you what – we’ll go out now and find something dazzling. Christian and Jim can keep things ticking over here for an hour or so – can’t you, boys?’

Christian and Jim looked fairly alarmed: one at the prospect of his ex and new partner being alone together, and the other at the added responsibility, but Louise’s smile was like a charm and they both nodded, mesmerised.

‘I’ll never find anything good in an hour!’ Maggie said anxiously. ‘Not in St Albans!’

‘Don’t worry, you will. I know you will,’ Louise told her reassuringly.

‘How do you know?’ Jim asked Louise’s breasts with barely concealed admiration.

Louise giggled and fluttered her lashes.

‘Because all clothes look good on flat-chested women. Now come on, let’s get going, we’re wasting time!’

Pete looked at Stella curled up on the bed as she ate the toast he’d brought her and carried on watching the TV.

‘So anything you want to do today?’ he said. ‘I thought as I had a day off maybe we could go out or something?’

Stella glanced at him. ‘I don’t know, babe, I’m really tired. I might have a cold coming on. I might just stay here.’

Pete sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘Um, there’s this thing on tonight, this party at a pub in town – did Angie tell you?’

Stella shook her head, her eyes fixed on the TV.

‘Oh well, she said she did but never mind. Anyway, it’s tonight, and I thought I might go. You could come too if you wanted to get out a bit?’

Pete was torn between wanting to go alone and wanting to see Stella in a different environment, anywhere where she might be a little more like her old self again. Stella stretched and pushed her empty plate away from her.

‘No, I’ll just stay in. You go, babe, if you want to.’

Pete bowed his head. It looked as if she had just forgotten that Angie had told her after all. He struggled with a dilemma, finally deciding that he should give Stella every chance to change her mind.

‘Are you sure? It’s Maggie’s place – remember the girl I told you about? The one I was friends with while you were away? Are you sure you don’t mind me going?’

Stella’s head snapped up and she looked at him.

‘No, I don’t mind you going, but … well, maybe I
could
come too.’ She pulled herself up into a sitting position. ‘Maybe we could go out now and I could get something to wear and we could go together?’

Pete nodded stiffly. ‘Great!’ he said. He picked up a pair of trousers and found his cash card. ‘Here, we’ll get some money out and get something nice.’

Stella smiled at him and pulled on her dressing gown. She rose up on to her knees and put her arms around his neck.

‘Are you OK?’ she asked him.

Pete thought about LA. He thought about Maggie. He thought about the stalemate that he and Stella were caught in. He knew that time was running out for him to be able to do something about it. He knew that if he didn’t act soon, there was a good chance he just wouldn’t go to LA, that he’d stay here with Stella, waiting for her to come back just like he always had. Only waiting for her to come back to herself, this time. He looked at her.

‘Stella, I think … there are things we need to talk about. I think that …’

Stella got up off the bed and went to the door.

‘OK. I’m going to shower first, though, and then we can go out. We can talk later. OK?’ She looked at Pete.

‘We have to, Stella. We can’t go on like this …’

But Stella had already shut the door.

‘I think you should wear red,’ Louise said as she ran her finger along a rack of dresses. ‘I think you’d carry red off really well with your hair and your eyes. What are you – an eight?’ She held up a knee-length red halter-neck dress. ‘What about this? Try it on!’

Maggie looked at it; it wasn’t something she would have chosen for herself in a million years – altogether too flashy.

‘Oh, I don’t really think that’s me, to be honest. It looks a bit tight!’

Louise put the dress in her hand and propelled her towards the dressing room.

‘Just try it on! The whole point of being tiny is that you can wear tight things – you don’t have bulges to worry about.’

Maggie glanced over her shoulder as she went.

‘I do have bulges!’ she protested.

‘Not real ones, your bulges are my idea of perfectly toned muscles. Now go on!’

Maggie pulled and pushed and squeezed her way into the dress and then looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair needed a wash and her face looked pale and shiny. She squinted and tried to imagine herself with make-up on.

‘It’s sort of hard to tell,’ she called, ‘without …’

‘The right shoes. Here you go.’ Louise’s arm thrust a pair of red spiked heels through the curtain. ‘I got you a five – you look a five.’

Maggie’s eyes widened at the heels.

‘I don’t know about those! I mean, I have to be able to walk around,’ she said, but she put them on anyway, sensing that she wasn’t going anywhere until she had. Did Christian know, she wondered, that he was living with a control freak? Another one?

‘Mmmmm.’ Louise said as she pulled back the curtain. ‘It’s hard to tell in here. Come out into the shop – the light’s much better.’

Maggie resisted growling at her; after all, she was the only person either available or willing to come with her, and she really was trying. She obediently tottered in the shop.

‘Very nice,’ the shop assistant said. ‘Really stunning. Those shoes are a must!’

Maggie looked at herself in the mirror. She had to admit that the overall effect was a pretty good, if slightly slutty, one. It made her legs look great, and the dress wasn’t
embarrassingly
tight, more sort of readers’ wives tight. With the right underwear, maybe … Maggie pinged the material away from where it clung to her body. No, it was the sort of thing you’d only wear to a Vicars and Tarts party.

‘I look like a high class – no, strike that – low class hooker,’ she said, turning to speak to Louise and coming face to face with Pete. And Stella.

‘Oh!’ she said, trying not to fall off her heels. ‘Hello. Pete.’

Pete swallowed, and Stella watched his jaw muscles tighten.

‘Hi, Maggie, it’s, er, nice to see you again.’

Pete kicked himself. The shock and surprise of finding Maggie here looking so well, so practically naked, had made him sound utterly insincere.