Chapter Fourteen PRESENT DAY

Chapter Fourteen

P RESENT D AY

‘Here she is!’ her dad called out loudly as he opened the front door of the flat.

‘Hi, Dad.’ Madeleine kissed his cheek and handed him the fancy box of chocolates she’d picked up yesterday, before shrugging her arms from her coat, which she hung on the hook in the hallway.

‘Ooh, these look lovely, thank you.’ He yawned as he spoke.

‘You’re tired, Dad.’

‘No, I’m not, I’m fine. I just like to watch her at night. Still a bit worried about her ticker.’ He winked.

‘Surely you don’t watch her all night?’ She hated the thought of this disturbed sleep for her dad, who was no spring chicken.

‘No, don’t be daft, not all night. I just sit up every hour, listen to her breathing, put my hand on her, check she’s warm enough, that kind of thing. But I think I’ll be less worried after her surgery.’

‘I bloody hope so! Or you’ll get ill. Why don’t you take five now and go and have a nap?’

He smiled at her. It broke her heart that Nico and she had parted on such ambiguous terms, yet her dad’s smile filled her with joy, this level of devotion. It was something to aspire to. Laughter burbled from the lounge.

‘Trina’s in with your mum!’ He nodded towards the sound with a look of excitement, as if her friend’s prior arrival was a fantastic thing – and perhaps it was for them. She, however, would have preferred some time alone with her parents before the mayhem ensued. Not that she had any right to these feelings, knowing it was Trina’s coat that hung with regularity on the hook in the hallway, and she was more the guest.

It was as laughter and general chitchat bounced off the walls that she walked into the lounge, feeling instantly self-conscious. Wishing she hadn’t taken time to blow dry and style her hair or ensure her make-up was on point. She wished she’d worn something more casual than her off-white jeans and camel-coloured cashmere jumper over a silk blouse. She felt formal, out of place, and ill at ease. This not unusual in recent years but no less exposing for that.

Marnie was sitting on the sofa, the only concession to her medical situation a light blanket over her knees. Her skin was pale, and she’d lost weight, her face slightly gaunt, but other than that, a lot better than she’d looked in the hospital bed. As was always the case with her mother, their previous harsh words were forgotten – or if not forgotten, then ignored, and her greeting was warm and inclusive. It was both a blessing and a curse. It made reunions like this easier but finding resolution to anything a whole lot harder.

‘Hello, darling! Fancy you coming all this way! Come in! Come in!’

Madeleine kissed her mum. Her dad put the box of chocolates on the sofa cushion next to his wife.

‘Hi, Trina.’ She acknowledged the woman sitting in the chair in the corner by the window. She felt the lift in her spirits at the sight of her friend, as if their history and shared childhood elbowed out what had happened to them in recent years and the deceit they both wrangled with.

‘All right?’ Trina jumped up and stood by the fireplace, as if unsure of her place now Madeleine was home.

‘You trying to make me fat?’ Marnie tutted while her fingers lingered over the embossed lid of the fancy confectionery.

‘Didn’t know what to bring you. You look good, Mum, much better.’

‘Probably because I’m having a lovely rest! And people like you bring me sweeties!’ she chuckled. ‘Poor old Dougie is running around, waiting on me hand, foot, and finger. He’ll be glad when I’m back in hospital, I’m sure.’

‘I will.’ He laughed. ‘Means I can get them dancing girls back again. Now, who’d like a nice cup of tea?’ He clapped his hands together.

‘You sit down, Dougie, I’ll do it.’ Trina was so clearly at home here.

Madeleine felt her guilt bristle. Misplaced, she knew, and yet to feel usurped by her best friend was no easy thing.

‘I’ll give you a hand.’ She followed Trina into the small kitchen. As Dougie sat next to his wife, she heard the ribbon being taken off the chocolates.

Trina turned in a circle, like a child looking to hide in an empty room, clearly flustered.

‘Can’t remember where the mugs are!’

‘In the carousel – or they used to be.’ She pointed to the cupboard in the corner.

Trina opened it and, sure enough, there sat all the mismatched mugs.

Madeleine was aware of how her presence made such a change to the atmosphere; it was like the joyful air had been sucked from the room and she arrived with a toxic cloud of tension. It didn’t make her feel good.

‘I don’t know, Mads.’ Trina spoke as she filled the kettle. ‘We don’t see each other for an age and then twice in the same week. Anyone would think we were mates.’

‘They might.’ She held her nerve. Not willing to be the first to admit that she missed her friend and always had. To be rejected a second time was, she knew, more than she could handle.

Trina rubbed her face and leaned back on the sink. ‘You seen that guy you like? The one you told me about?’

‘Oh. No.’ She felt the crush of disappointment in her chest. ‘That’s ... It’s not going to happen. At least I’m pretty sure it’s not. I’m a bit gutted about it, actually. He’s perfect.’

‘Perfect, eh? Well, I’m sorry to hear it’s not working out. I’ve been thinking a lot about our chat at the hospital. You said you wanted me to be happy.’

‘I do.’ She jumped in without hesitation. ‘I do.’

‘And yet for the longest time, our separation, whatever you want to call it, made me so unhappy.’

‘You were the one who walked away, Trina. I still dream about it, you leaving the café when I told you I was pregnant, and then the one time you came here after that and it was so horrible, because everything had changed, then bumping into you in Covent Garden, when we could hardly look at each other.’

‘You were with that weird bloke.’ Trina pulled a face.

‘Yes, Quentin the dentist. I never trusted him.’

‘I’d say that was smart. He’d ironed his jeans. Never trust a bloke who irons his jeans.’

Madeleine smiled at this piece of wisdom, but wanted to keep on track. ‘It was hard enough going through the pregnancy at all, but doing it without you by my side, it was ... it was terrible. And I’m not blaming you!’

‘Good.’

‘I’m not.’ She nodded. ‘I’m blaming us. Both of us. I shouldn’t have ... God, I don’t even know where to start.’ That was the truth.

‘We don’t talk about it, do we?’ Trina’s voice was now low; her eyes darted towards the lounge. ‘About how we broke apart.’

‘No, we don’t. But as you pointed out, we don’t really see each other full stop, so ...’

Trina nodded and pulled her hair tight inside its scrunchie. ‘I guess I shy away from it because I know that no matter how hard it was for me to watch you go and grab a new life, one that excluded me, how hurt I was – how hurt I am – I always think it must have been a darn sight harder for you. I mean, you won a lot, but you lost a lot too, didn’t you?’

Trina’s words echoed Jimmy’s in a way. Madeleine didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for her. It was the worst.

‘I have a lovely life.’ She trotted out the justification that helped soothe her pain; pulling up that darn drawbridge, as was her default.

‘Is it the life you thought you’d have? The life you wanted?’ Trina was silent for a beat and stared at the back of her hands, suggesting it was a hard question to ask.

Madeleine considered her response. ‘You want to know if it was worth it, is that what you’re asking me?’ It was a question she had been asking herself of late.

‘If ya like.’ The kettle whistled to a boil and Trina plopped teabags in the mugs.

‘In some ways, yes.’ But not all.

With her back to Madeleine, Trina spoke softly. ‘I loved you so much. I loved you so, so much. You were my very best friend; I would have died for you.’

‘I know.’ Her reply too, no more than a whisper.

‘Since primary school until the day you moved out, I felt I knew what you were thinking, could predict what would make you laugh, how to comfort you. We were sisters.’

‘We were.’ Madeleine liked to think of it – same hairstyles, same clothes.

‘But looking back, Mads, I can see that we started to splinter long before the café.’

‘Maybe.’ This felt perilously close to opening up old wounds that were still weeping, and she wasn’t sure in the face of so much turmoil she had the strength for it.

‘Definitely!’ Trina pressed. ‘I remember your face when I told you I wanted to stay living at home, work in the bank, and save up. You looked at me like I was talking in a foreign language, like it made no sense to you at all.’

‘It didn’t. I could only think about escape, about running towards the horizon. I wanted you to come with me, wanted us both to rocket out of the postcode to dance among the stars, reaching for the high life and all that came with it. I thought we were on the same track, and suddenly we weren’t.’

‘You left me behind.’ Trina sniffed. ‘You left us all behind.’

‘Not intentionally. You chose to stay, remember. And then when Edith arrived, it was like you had to pick a side and you chose her – you chose Marnie, and that’s fine! It’s fine’ – the crack in her voice suggested it was anything but fine – ‘but it’s like you all put up a big high fence that was padlocked and I didn’t have a key.’

Trina shook her head. ‘We shouldn’t have had to choose! You shouldn’t have had to choose!’

‘You’re right! But I did! Why was it no one ever thought to reach out and help me connect with Edith, teach me what to do, instead of running me down in my absence?’

‘Oh, come off it – Marnie would have jumped at the chance to help you “connect”, as you put it. You never made any sign that it was what you wanted – the opposite, in fact. Every visit it was like you had one eye on the clock. And we never ran you down.’

Madeleine snorted her derision as the words landed. It was hard to hear. It was true, she had never asked for help, watching from the wings as Jimmy, Marnie – all of them – took to caring for Edith like ducks to water, and yet for Madeleine to even hold her filled her with so much dread she could barely bring herself to touch the child.

‘And even before Edith, it was so much more than a case of you just being busy. I didn’t fit in with your swanky new life.’

‘What are you talking about?’ She raised her voice. ‘That’s rubbish!’

‘No, it’s not! That time I came to meet you up west, when we went out with that bloke you lived with, Luciano or whatever his name was, and those horrible girls who ignored me. You were different. Almost overnight, you behaved different. Christ, you even spoke different! You still speak different!’

‘I don’t!’ It was a harsh accusation.

‘But you do!’ Trina laughed. ‘You absolutely do! You used to sound like me and now you most certainly do not!’

Madeleine thought of the hours and hours she inadvertently practised rounding her vowels and concentrating on getting her pronunciation right. Trying hard to shrug off the Brenton Park estate. But it was necessary! Necessary for her to sound like, look like, and become the person she wanted to be! It cut her that Trina could not see that.

‘It was as if you wanted to shed your past like skin, Mads, just slither out and leave it behind. That night when we all went out, you were knocking back cocktails that cost more than my food budget for a couple of days. I felt sick. And when I said I had to chip off early, you looked ... you looked relieved. I think that’s what hurt the most.’

She was about to respond but remembered that particular night and knew that Trina was right. She had wanted so badly to fit in, to be like those fancy-pants people with spare chairs and choices. A thought that now thoroughly cloaked her with shame.

‘I was relieved! But not because of who you were or how you were, but because you looked as if you wanted to be anywhere else.’

‘I did!’

‘Well, there we go!’

Both looked towards the door as if aware they had raised their voices. They took a moment and were quiet.

‘I never stopped loving you, Trina. My sister.’ It was hard to say, a reminder of how much she lost when they fell apart, but it was no less true for that.

‘Nor I you, but we still have so much to figure out, Mads. And truthfully, I don’t know if we can.’ It seemed this was about as conciliatory as Trina could manage.

‘I don’t know either, but I do know, with Marnie laid up on the sofa, about to have her surgery, maybe this isn’t the time or place.’ She stood upright and pulled herself together, wishing her friend had reached out to hold her for a warm hug in the way she used to.

‘I think it’s as good a time and place as any, until the next time.’ Trina lobbed the teabags into the sink and topped the teas up with milk.

‘I’m leaving soon,’ Madeleine reminded her.

‘So you are.’ Trina spoke with her back to her as if she hadn’t forgotten this at all.

‘I think at the heart of our – I don’t even know what to call it – our “falling out” was the fact you liked Jimmy, the fact you still like Jimmy. Isn’t that what this is all about? And I can’t imagine how much it hurt you. How much I hurt you.’

‘Well, it certainly didn’t help. God, it was just the icing on the cake!’ Trina sighed, turned and they locked eyes. ‘I liked him all the way through school, not that I ever told him, of course, too shy when it came to it. I only mentioned it in passing to you, Mads, but you knew, you knew ! That should have been enough. When you said you’d been seeing him, I was’ – she placed her hand on her stomach as if this was where the hurt had balled, maybe still did – ‘I was winded. I always knew I’d put my love for you before that of any boy. I just couldn’t believe you’d done that to me, and then to discover you were having his baby!’ Trina made the sound of an explosion from the back of her mouth. ‘It was like getting a hard kick in the teeth from the universe.’

‘I didn’t plan it. I didn’t plan any of it.’ She felt compelled to offer some justification, no matter how small, and the words did little to ease the immense weight of guilt that dogged her.

‘Oh, I know that, but the end result was just the same. You gone. And Jimmy and you are connected for the rest of your lives – for the rest of my life.’ Trina swallowed. ‘Not that I don’t think Edith is the best thing ever, I do – she’s magic, isn’t she?’

‘She is.’

Trina, she knew, had never missed a birthday or Christmas gift in Edith’s life and Marnie had told her that whenever she popped in she was always happy for a quick game of Connect 4 on the rug in front of the electric fire or to let Edith brush her hair when she fancied playing hairdressers.

‘And I know it’s selfish of me, Mads, but it was like ...’ Trina paused, as if taking her time to get the words right. ‘He was the one thing. The one thing I really, really wanted. And you took him. And ... and it’s not like you took him because you wanted him, or because you loved him or saw a future with him or anything so meaningful that I might, might have been able to get my head around. You took him because you could and then you ditched him, but it was spoiled for me because of you. And that was a really shitty thing to do, especially to me, who you were supposed to care about. Who you were supposed to love.’

‘I did love you. I do.’ She whispered from a mouth contorted with the magnitude of her friend’s words that hit so hard. ‘I was selfish and thoughtless and it was a shitty thing to do. I’m sorry. All I can say is that I didn’t do it maliciously, didn’t set out to trap him or hurt you. It wasn’t important! And I had no idea of how important it would become.’

‘I’m sure you think that makes it better, the fact that it wasn’t important.’ Trina blinked her tears. ‘But it kind of proves my point and doesn’t change the fact that it was important to me. It was very important to me.’

‘I’m sorry. I am. I’m sorry.’ To see the hurt on Trina’s face was almost unbearable. Her fingers twitched with the need to hold her friend, but as they stood on either side of the kitchen – a distance of less than seven feet – it felt like a long, long way away.

‘I kept waiting for you to pop up and say, “I’m back. I tried that life and I realise I just want to be at home with all the people who love me, where I have history.” And we’d pick up where we left off – drinking tea on the sofa and scoffing biscuits, walking arm in arm in the park late at night, going shopping to buy a top to wear to the pub on Saturday night, we’d eat fried egg sandwiches right here in the kitchen on a Sunday morning and we’d doze in front of the telly ... That was the life I loved – the life with you in it.’

She heard the emotion in Trina’s words and felt it mirrored in her breast, knowing it was impossible to go back to that life. She was changed – they were changed – and she was unsure of how or even if they still fitted together.

‘I’m not that person anymore.’ This was the truth. The fact was she had worked hard not to be that person anymore. But that doesn’t mean I can’t have a life with you, if you let me ... She wanted so badly to say this! Fear was the stopper that kept the words tamped down.

‘Then I shall start grieving, Mads, because that means she’s never coming home – that girl who was like a part of me, and that’s a lot for me to get my head around. And I shall miss her, for always.’

‘I miss her too, Trina, some of the time. But I do have a lovely life! And I meant what I said.’ She swallowed. ‘I think you should tell Jimmy how you feel.’

‘Oh, you think?’ Trina let her tears gather as her voice broke.

‘I do. He’s a great person. I don’t need to tell you that.’ Trina, she knew, had also borne witness to his incredible kindness and patience every time he was with his daughter. Her words came from a throat narrowed with emotion at this the hardest of conversations. ‘You both deserve to be happy.’

‘You deserve to be happy too.’ Trina handed her a mug of tea.

‘As I said, I’ve got stuff to figure out, but I am happy, most of the time.’

‘Sure you are.’ Her friend picked up the other mugs and took them to Marnie and Doug in the lounge.

Doug stood as they walked into the room. Trina handed him a mug of tea.

‘Thanks, love. I’m just going to go to the, erm ...’ He pointed and walked to the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

‘Sit down, girls,’ Marnie instructed, and they sat. Trina sat in the chair in the corner and Madeleine on the pouffé in front of the fireplace. ‘We heard every word you said in the kitchen. Think you both forgot how thin these bloody walls are.’

‘Sorry, Marn, I—’

‘No, I don’t want sorry. I just want you both to listen.’

Trina stopped talking and they stared at Marnie.

‘Seeing you both sitting there looking at me’ – Marnie swallowed – ‘it’s like we’ve erased time. I can picture you both on a Sunday, sitting in here, watching telly, laughing and chatting, eating whatever you could find in the cupboards. I used to say to Dougie, “I know we wanted lots of kids, but listen to what we’ve got – them two, as close as can be.” It was everything. It really was.’

Madeleine and Trina looked at each other, their smiles slow in forming but smiles nonetheless shared in recognition of this truth.

They heard the front door close.

‘Nanny!’

‘Oh, here comes trouble.’ She broke off from her chat and braced for Edith, who ran into the lounge. ‘Hello, my darling!’

Edith jumped on to the sofa and threw her arms around her nan. Madeleine could only look on as the two sat holding each other tight, as if their separation caused them pain.

‘Hi, all!’ Jimmy came in, waved, and took a seat next to her on the floor. ‘The door was on the latch. How are you feeling, Marn?’

‘I’m great, love,’ she said as Edith released her and walked over to kiss Madeleine, before high-fiving Trina. It was strangely comforting that her little girl didn’t go into raptures at the sight of her, suggesting it was normal, no big deal, just her mum hanging out on a Saturday. It felt inclusive and took the pressure down a notch.

‘Where’s Pop?’ Edith looked again around the tiny room, as if it might have been possible to mislay the man.

‘Go and give him a shout. Do you want him to help you with colouring in?’

‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’ Edith ran eagerly from the room. ‘Pop! I’ll be in my room,’ she yelled. ‘I’ll sort the pens out!’

‘That’ll keep them busy.’ Marnie pulled a face and lowered her voice. ‘I often use the phrase “life is short”. I say it to other people all the time, as if it might galvanise them to act, put the fire under them they need. But since my heart attack, I’ve been thinking about what it means to me. Life is short, and the older I get, the less of it I have left. That goes for all of us, of course, not that you three have to worry – you’re all mere babies!’

Madeleine smiled. She was approaching thirty, about to head over the pond, and with plans to open her own agency; she didn’t feel like a mere baby .

‘You have a whole lot of life ahead of you and I think it’s important you go for what you want. I used to say it to Madeleine all the time.’

‘Yep, and look where that got us!’ Trina tested the water with her humour.

Jimmy tittered.

‘The thing is,’ Marnie continued, ‘none of us get to plan the life we live. We might think we do, but we don’t, not really. Bits of it, yes, the path we choose, maybe the job we do, or the place we live, but the truth is, life carries us along in its raging rapids. It sends us challenges, it drags us under, it puts obstacles and people in our path, things we never expected to come along and they steer us in directions we might not have chosen, but so much of it is good! Because this is our one life! It has to be all good or we spend a very long time wishing things were different, and that’s just a bloody waste. We don’t know what’s around the next bend, but we do know what we face today, and we just need to keep paddling, but also taking time to look up and see all the wonderful things that are around us.’

‘The pocketsful of sunshine,’ Madeleine whispered; Marnie’s words struck a chord.

‘That’s right.’ Marnie held her gaze. ‘So it’s about time you three figured out how to go forward. Because the clock is ticking. And one day you’ll blink, look in the mirror, and you’ll be wondering where the last thirty years have gone. And most importantly, there’s a marvellous little girl at the heart of all this who deserves better.’

‘I love you all.’ Trina spoke softly. ‘You’re my family, right?’

Trina might not have been looking directly at her, but Madeleine knew it was another stepping stone laid down by her friend to help them cross the huge chasm, and her heart flipped with longing that it might be so.

‘We are your family, darling – always.’ Marnie looked close to tears.

‘I need to go. Got to pick my mum up.’ Trina stood.

‘I’ll come walk you to your car.’ Jimmy stood, his manner as ever, calming.

‘Oh, sure.’ There was no mistaking the look of delight that made Trina’s eyes shine brightly and her mouth curl into a smile.

‘See you.’

‘Yeah, see you, Mads.’

It was only when they’d left the room that she and Marnie let their own smiles form.

‘Well.’ Her mum pulled a face. ‘That’s a start.’

‘Yep.’

‘I long ago gave up the idea that you and Jimmy might make a go of things.’

‘It was never going to happen, Mum. I think he’s brilliant.’ That was the truth. Her admiration of him after she’d told him he was the father of her child, and what she could now see was a wonderful gift; the way he had made contact with Marnie, shy at first, no doubt, no more than a kid himself trying to figure out life. His occasional visits to sit with Edith, read to her, bringing her small gifts of wildflowers and items knitted by his mother. Before quite simply joining their family, forging a precious bond bound with love. It might not have been the family her parents had envisaged when her pregnancy first came to light, but she could see it was a strong family, nonetheless. And one with Edith at the heart of it. ‘But we’re never going to be a couple, not in that sense.’

And especially not now I understand how much I’ve hurt Trina; I wish I could figure out how to make amends. This she kept to herself, unwilling to admit to the feeling of contentment she had felt while ensconced in Jimmy’s fairytale cottage, the way it had felt to dance with their daughter and eat good soup ... It had woken something inside her, not wanting that life with him, not with Jimmy, but with someone? Someone like Nico? It wouldn’t be the worst thing.

‘I love you, Madeleine.’ Marnie’s words were direct, heartfelt, and moving.

‘I know. I love you too. And’ – she took a moment, wanting to get it right – ‘and I’m thankful to you, Mum. To you and Dad. For what you did, for what you’ve done. You are remarkable, both of you. I can’t imagine what my life or Edith’s life would have been like if we didn’t have you guys. I’m thankful for you both.’ Her voice cracked; this wasn’t easy. ‘I know what you’ve sacrificed.’

‘I gained far more than I lost.’ Settling back, she stared at the ceiling and spoke softly. ‘I’d do it all again. Without question. I’d take that baby girl in a heartbeat, and I’d do it all again. That child is—’

As if on cue Edith’s raucous laughter filtered across the hallway. It warmed Madeleine.

‘She’s really something.’ Marnie looked towards the sound. ‘I think you’re right. I don’t think I did give you a choice, not really. But I want you to know that every decision I made, I did with the best of intentions. Because I would do anything for you, Madeleine – my only child. I would.’

‘I know.’ Her voice was no more than a whisper. ‘I was angry – so angry, Mum. Angry with the world for what had happened to me, angry with you for not giving me the choice.’

‘I saved her.’ Marnie’s tears were instant. ‘I saved her for you. Because as much as I couldn’t stand the thought of her going to another family, the only thing I hated more was the idea of you waking up one day and realising just what you’d given up. I thought, at least if she’s with me, then if – if – that day comes, then you still have a chance. You still have a chance.’

She wanted to speak, wanted to give her thanks, to say she understood, but her own wave of emotion rendered speech impossible.

‘And Trina was right. You came back different, you behaved different, you spoke different and you still speak different!’

‘I guess I do.’

‘You do, Madeleine, but I still love you and I know you still love all of us, even when you’re distracted by the life you’re building. I understand more than you think.’

‘I guess that’s why it hurts so much.’ Madeleine wiped her eyes, embarrassed to be so emotional, unable to keep it together.

‘One thing I do know, Edith-Madeleine Woods, is that you’re doing your best. And as long as you’re happy, then that’s all I ask. And I know you must be, otherwise, what would be the point of it all?’

Madeleine looked around the walls and thought about the day she had sat in the corner and told her mum she was pregnant. The topic had been exhausting as they chased the same options around and around, bookended with more emotion than either of them was comfortable with. She hadn’t slept, could barely function, weakened and obsessed by the meteor that had landed squarely in the middle of all she held dear and around which she tried to navigate. It was only now she was starting to understand that Marnie did what she did with the best of intentions, to give her a chance. Maybe she did know what was best for her ...

‘Yes, what would be the point ...’

They heard a knock at the front door.

Madeleine jumped up. ‘I’ve got it, Dad!’ she called, not wanting him and Edith to have to cut short their colouring-in session.