Chapter 19

NINETEEN

‘You will come and stay again, yes? You must come and stay. Bring Leo and Frank too!' Carmel tells me as I stand by Miles's Land Rover so he can take me to the train station. She embraces me so very hard and I feel all of it, all of that love for someone she hardly knows. I stand there in front of their super grand house and look up at it one last time.

‘Please thank Sally and everyone for their hospitality, I've really enjoyed myself,' I tell her. I'm not even lying. One day, I can return to that fox story and tell my children about it. It was my one day of activism. I can embellish it and say dogs were chasing us and I nearly died. It will be a memory I hold on to forever. A figure appears at the door and waves over to me and I head over.

‘Miss Maggie,' Philip the head butler says, bowing his head. I will never get used to that, ever. ‘The ladies in the kitchen prepared some sandwiches and biscuits for your trip. Thank you for the cards and chocolates – very kind,' he says.

‘My pleasure, I'm sorry it wasn't more,' I say, going to hug him. His shoulders are stiff as a board but he relents, slightly patting me on the back. ‘Are you working over Christmas?' I ask him.

‘Oh, Mrs Knights has given us free rein over the house while the family are away,' he says, smirking. I picture Philip with a bottle of brandy in hand, sliding down the staircase in his pants on a silver tea tray.

‘Then enjoy. Have a lovely Christmas, Philip.'

A car horn sounds and Jasper winds down the passenger-side window. ‘Come on, Maggie. You'll miss your train otherwise,' he shouts, and I jog over to the car, waving to all as I do. What a place, what an afternoon. After our eventful morning saving nature, we went back to the house, Jasper cooked me breakfast with endless rounds of toast and tea, and I spent an afternoon luxuriating in the confines of that house. I had a bath in a tub with brass feet and massage settings, I sat in the drawing room with a fire and played (and beat) Jasper in chess. But I also partook in their early Christmas celebrations before they all left to get ready for their ski trip tomorrow. I watched as extended family and friends filtered in and out of that place, I shook their hands, learned their names, watched them receive and exchange gifts and ate my weight in roast potatoes and Christmas cake. It was the most restful, glorious, festive way to spend an afternoon.

As Miles drives out of the estate, I watch the moonlight filter through the trees that line the drive. I don't know if Cressida will allow it but I do hope that I get to return here very soon.

‘What time is your flight tomorrow?' I ask both of them.

‘Six in the morning,' Miles says. ‘From Heathrow.'

I picture the both of them skiing together, in matching skiwear and enjoying raclette in the Alps in a lodge, happy. It's a scene that fills me with a lot of joy.

‘But your house is like Piccadilly Circus at the moment,' I tell them. ‘All those relatives coming back and forth? '

‘It's what my mum does, she doesn't like to see people left out. She likes a busy house. Did you meet Uncle Wesley in the end?' Jasper asks me.

‘Yes. I also know about the size of his salmon. I was not as impressed as he thought I would be,' I say.

They both laugh.

‘And when are you off to the Lakes?' Jasper asks.

‘Thursday.'

‘Are you sure you don't want to stay here another night?' Miles asks. ‘My mum was very fond of you.'

‘That's sweet but I have errands to run,' I tell them, running through a mundane list in my head that mainly involves working out if I have enough clean pairs of pants. ‘I also want to pop in on a mate.'

‘Is that a roundabout way of saying you're going to shag Leo?' Jasper asks me.

‘NO! So crude,' I shriek at him, but I'll admit it's nice to see Miles laughing at his joke. ‘I do have other friends you know? Apart from you.'

‘I am your best friend though,' Jasper confidently tells me. His eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. You are something, you daft twit. I see you more clearly now, who you are and why you are, and it's possibly made me love you even more. I don't doubt Frank is a closer friend to you but you let me step into this world of yours, this very complicated world, and you've let me be a part of it. When all those family members came round, you introduced me to all of them. This is the very wonderful Maggie . You love me too. I also know this because your mum told me.

‘Well, I hope I can be a friend too?' Miles asks me as he drives, the station in sight.

‘Of course,' I say, grinning. ‘I want full access to this relationship from now on…' I say and we're all quiet for a moment while they digest those words and what they really mean. ‘Ma ybe in the new year, we can go out?' I tell them. ‘Just the three of us.'

Jasper beams. The car rolls into the station and Miles pulls into a stop. ‘Well, I would love that. You're only sixteen stations away on the Tube,' he jokes, turning to wink at me. We all get out of the car and Miles goes to the boot to get my bag, leaving Jasper and me standing there.

‘Be nice to Leo, please. Don't break that boy's heart,' Jasper tells me. ‘He really does like you.'

I nod. Over chess, Jasper told me how much and said I was a bit of a spanner for not noticing it. The way he'd always volunteer to do jobs when Frank and Jasper would sit there staring at their screens, the way he would buy the flowers and cake for my birthday, the way he let me take his bed that night at our Christmas do when I got drunk. That's because I was his boss, no? No, it was because he always wants to do the right thing by me, he always puts me first.

‘I will try,' I stand there, a bit emotional. ‘I'm not quite sure what to say, Jasper,' I tell him. The fact is I loved him before, but now it feels like that's increased tenfold in meeting Miles, his mum and understanding his family situation. And it makes me think how having to make one of my dear friends redundant is becoming even more of an unbearable decision to have to make.

‘Thank you is customary,' he tells me.

‘Then thank you. I love you. You know that.' He scowls at me a little, like he's in pain. ‘Don't pull that face. It's not like that.'

‘That's good. I didn't want to be part of some complicated love triangle at Christmas.'

I laugh.

‘Then, as it's Christmas, and you were the first one to breach the line of professional conduct…I love you too, Maggie.' As he says the last bit, his voice wobbles, his emotion has got the better of his sarcasm. He can't quite bear this so he grabs me an d pulls me in for a long, prolonged hug. When he knows he's taken a moment too long, he steps back and pushes my shoulder.

‘Go, get on a train. Here…' he tells me, going in his pocket. He hands me a tin of gin and tonic in a luridly red can. ‘You be a sad case and drink on your own.'

I take the tin quite happily. ‘Merry Christmas, Jassy Bear.'

‘Oh, do fuck off…'

‘Miss? Miss? I'm afraid it's the last stop, you will need to get off.'

I awake with a jolt, murmurs of announcements and people in the background as a train conductor in a Santa hat stands over me, looking at the empty tin of gin on my tray table, assuming the worst. Did I fall asleep? I wipe at a trail of drool from the corner of my mouth, taking out an AirPod from my ear.

‘I'm so sorry, so so sorry.' I peer out the window, desperately. At least I made it to Waterloo and didn't bounce back to somewhere like Southampton, that would not have been good. I search around for my bags and clear my rubbish. The conductor hears the echoes of Christmas music come out of my earbud and smiles.

‘Long journey?' he asks me.

‘You could say that…Mervin,' I say, reading his name badge. He seems surprised by the gesture. ‘My dad works on the Tube. You working over the holidays?'

He puts a fist out for me to bump. ‘Just the Eve then I am done. Merry Christmas, darling.'

‘You too.'

I smile, dragging my bags down the carriage and step out on to the platform. You see, that feels like London air, the weight and scent of it, and I smile to be home. Not that the fresh air wasn't appreciated but my lungs feel more at home now, not like they're in a state of shock for intaking all that pure oxygen. I walk to the platform thinking about what I'll do this evening. As dull as it sounds, I need to do some laundry, wrap a few more gifts, water my plants. It also dawned on me that I need to start reading the redundancy paperwork Jan gave me before the weekend. I hadn't really laid eyes on it; I pushed the idea out of my mind completely over the last few days but I need to start at least thinking about it properly, weighing up the options and working out the best way to tell all of them. I think the main problem lies not just in losing one of them. Once I have made a decision, blame will be laid at my feet and the dynamic will change forever. I don't know how to do this, how to betray their unerring faith and confidence in me. Losing that feels like the worst thing that could happen. I go into my handbag to retrieve my train ticket and slide it through the machine reader, working out whether to grab a coffee or go straight on the Tube. But then I look up. I cock my head to one side. I don't quite know how to react but I know I've been asleep on that train so try my best to tidy my hair, my face and adjust my scarf. Leo. He stands there, holding a sign that says ‘Maggie' on an A4 piece of paper, a hand in the air, waving. He's wearing that green beanie he always wears, his duffel coat and brown boots, a rucksack on his back, an expression that almost looks terrified that this is not the right thing to do. I walk over slowly.

‘Hi, are you my Uber? Jesus?' I ask him.

I see his shoulders fall with relief. ‘I am. I thought I'd missed you. You're late out, Miss Maggie.'

‘I was napping,' I admit. ‘This is a very good service, Jesus. I could have met you outside though.'

‘Well, it's Christmas. I even put holly on the sign,' he points out. His eyes crease as he smiles, dimples on full show.

‘And printed out. Helvetica, too.'

‘Well, when I'm not driving Ubers I'm also in IT. This is some of my best work. '

There's a small group of old ladies next to us pretending to read the departures boards but who stand there eavesdropping, elbowing each other and grinning broadly.

‘Well, I will be sure to review you accordingly.'

‘I bloody hope so,' he replies, laughing.

I don't know what to do, Leo. You must have smiled at me a million times before this but now it's different. I am in the busiest train station in London but the sound, the buzz, is just drowned out by this feeling of only seeing you, wanting to reach out and hold you. How has this happened?

‘How did you know to be here?' I ask him, suddenly intrigued by the coincidence of it all.

‘Jasper may have texted me to tell me what train you were on. Frank suggested the sign,' he tells me.

The three of them had a conversation, they conspired. I laugh to think of them coming up with this. ‘Our Frank?' I ask him, surprised he came up with that himself.

‘He also said balloons but I thought I'd be a bit more subtle,' he tells me. ‘So what now?' he asks, nervously. Probably because besides seeing my photo with a gang of fox cubs, the last time I saw him I was having an orgasm on the phone. I blush to think we're going to jump straight into that. I've been up since 6.30am. A breeze shoots through the train station letting me know that the biting cold has returned.

‘Do you fancy getting some dinner?' I ask him.

‘I'd love that,' he smiles, nodding. ‘There's just one thing I have to do.'

He folds the sign in four, putting it in his coat pocket and then suddenly steps forward, putting a hand to the collar of my coat and kisses me gently on the lips. It's a kiss filled with hesitation but then he slowly exhales as he presses his lips against mine, a graze of his stubble brushing my cheek, a feeling connecting both of us, slowing down the moment as he puts a hand to the back of my head. He steps back, his cheeks flushed, unsure of what's just happened.

‘Did Jasper and Frank tell you to do that too?' I stutter, clearing my throat to get the words out.

‘That was all me,' he says, biting his lip, hoping he hasn't overstepped.

I try to catch my breath, my face numb, trying to contain the joy leaping out of my soul. We don't do that, you and I. We don't, but now it's all I want to do.

‘Well, you'll have to give him five stars now, honey,' an old lady next to us says, and we both stand there in the middle of Waterloo station, laughing, his hand clasped firmly around mine.