Heart of the Cross

by Emily Madden

  ‘I came here thinking you may need support. I know Sharon was a good friend of yours.’

  ‘Sharon was my oldest friend, Mum. You know that.’

  ‘Come home, Maggie.’ Rosie’s face crumpled then. She reached out and grabbed Maggie’s hand and Maggie’s heart soared. ‘Please come home before it’s too late.’

  ‘Too late?’ Her hope turned to dust.

  ‘I don’t want you ending up with a wasted life like Sharon.’

  ‘You think Sharon’s life was a waste? She made a mistake and paid with her life,’ Maggie cried.

  ‘You always were under her spell. Don’t you see how she has pulled you down?’ Rosie said coldly, and it made Maggie sick that her mother could speak ill of the dead.

  ‘Go home, Mother. Go home and never speak to me again.’

  The rain returned then. The heavens opened up ferocious and fierce, and for the second time that day, Maggie walked away from someone whom she thought she loved.

  ‘Maggie!’ Mike called out, running by her side with an umbrella, but it was too late, she was already drenched to the bone. Her water-logged feet squelched in her too-tight shoes as she trudged over the mud-infested ground.

  ‘Bloody hell, you’re soaked,’ he muttered, guiding her by the elbow towards his car.

  ‘The wake,’ Maggie said, teeth chattering. She could barely feel her cheeks, and her fingers were bone white and refused to cooperate as she pulled her coat tighter around her.

  ‘Fuck the wake,’ Mike spat. ‘I’m taking you home before you catch pneumonia.’

  Maggie wanted to tell him that you couldn’t catch pneumonia from being cold, but her teeth were moving so violently that it made it hard to think, let alone speak.

  She must’ve drifted off at some point in the trip because the next thing she knew, Mike was gently shaking her shoulder.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, helping her out of the car. ‘I would’ve let you sleep, but you need to get out of those wet clothes.’

  ‘Wait, where are we?’ she said when he led her into the foyer of an Art Deco building.

  ‘I’m taking you to my place.’

  ‘Why?’ Maggie asked groggily.

  ‘You fell asleep before I could ask you where you live. Is this okay?’

  Maggie nodded numbly. She didn’t want to go back to the flat anyway. Since finding Sharon’s body, she had slept in the living room, too distraught to be in the bedroom they’d shared.

  Mike’s apartment was nicer and neater than she’d expected. It was probably the same size as hers, but with cooler furniture. It was a real grown-up’s place.

  ‘There’s a bathroom on the left.’ He gestured down the hall. ‘I’ll grab you a towel and see if I can find something for you to wear, just give me a sec.’ He darted off and returned with a towel, as promised, and a jumper that would easily pass as a dress on her.

  ‘Here you go; sorry I don’t have anything else more suitable.’

  ‘I would be surprised if you had women’s clothing lying around,’ Maggie said wryly.

  His lips quirked. ‘Maggie Hart, this is the Cross, nothing should surprise you.’

  ‘True. But sometimes people do.’ She was talking as much about him as she was about Bobby, and for a moment Mike held her gaze knowingly.

  ‘I should, ah, let you warm up.’ He broke eye contact and took a step back.

  Maggie smiled and headed down the hall. The shower was exactly what she needed and she was right—Mike’s jumper almost reached her knees. But it was soft and smelled of lavender. Huh, who knew Mike used fabric softener?

  When she emerged from the bathroom, she found Mike in the living room setting down two mugs on the coffee table.

  ‘I made you Cup-a-Soup,’ he declared almost shyly. ‘There’s chicken noodle or pea and ham. Sorry for the paltry selection, but it’s all I had.’

  Tears pricked her eyes. He was being so kind, and the last time they had been together she had been a total bitch.

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry,’ Mike said, gently pulling her down towards the couch and handing her a box of tissues.

  ‘No, it’s okay, I mean, thank you for this.’ Maggie blew her nose and took a deep breath. ‘And I’m sorry.’

  ‘For what?’ Mike asked, placing a mug into her hands.

  ‘For what I said last week. I’m sorry for slapping you and for telling you to fuck off.’

  ‘You were upset.’ Mike shrugged. ‘And I wasn’t being all that nice either. Now drink up. I know it’s not fancy, but it’ll do you some good.’

  ‘Hey, I happen to consider Continental Cup-a-Soup the crème de la crème of soups.’

  That made him smile. ‘Only the best for you, Maggie Hart.’

  * * *

  Maggie woke and for a while forgot where she was. It was afternoon, almost dusk, but the gloominess made it feel later. She must’ve fallen asleep on the couch. The last thing she remembered was drinking her hot mug of soup, the salty noodles filling her belly, the warmth thawing her soul enough to lull her into slumber. She was covered with a thick, soft blanket, and as she groggily sat up Maggie heard movement from the kitchen. She followed the noise and found Mike making a coffee. Never had the aroma of Nescafé Blend 43 smelled so divine.

  ‘Hey, sorry if I woke you.’ Mike peered at her over the rim of his mug.

  ‘You didn’t, but that smells good. Would you mind if I made myself one?’

  ‘I’ll do it.’ He was already flicking on the electric jug and pulling out a mug that read World’s Best Uncle. ‘Milk? Sugar?’

  ‘Both. One sugar, please.’

  ‘I need to go to work tonight.’ He handed her coffee over and Maggie’s stomach clenched.

  ‘Oh, I’ll get going before then …’ She trailed off when he shook his head.

  ‘I’m not telling you that so you can leave. I know heading back to your place may be hard for you.’

  ‘I can’t …’ A lump formed in her throat and tears threatened. ‘I’ve been sleeping on the couch ever since.’

  ‘You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like.’

  Maggie stared at him. Just like that, without delay, without begging, he offered.

  ‘Mike, I can’t—’

  ‘You can. I have a spare room. The bed’s a bit ancient, but it’s decent. My nieces and nephews stay here often so I made sure the mattress was comfortable.’

  When she said nothing, he added, ‘Unless you have somewhere else you can go?’

  He hadn’t mentioned Bobby yet, and Maggie was sure it was because he’d witnessed their spat at the church as well as the exchange of words with her mother. It also made her realise that she hadn’t thought of Bobby since this morning.

  ‘No, I don’t. Staying with Bobby isn’t an option, although I should call him. He’s probably wondering where I am.’

  Mike nodded. He didn’t ask why she couldn’t stay with Bobby and she was thankful for that. ‘If you like, I’ll come with you to grab your stuff from your place, then I’ll drop you back here before I head to the club.’

  Tears welled. ‘Why are you being so kind?’ Maggie was touched by his thoughtfulness, but it seemed the question surprised him.

  ‘Maggie, you’ve just lost your best friend. You need support and it doesn’t look like you’re getting a hell of a lot from …’ He paused, took a breath before saying, ‘From elsewhere.’

  She dropped her gaze. It was clear he was about to say she wasn’t getting any support from Bobby, and while she should’ve defended him, she didn’t have the energy to do so. ‘It would be great to stay a few days, just until I get myself sorted.’

  ‘You can stay as long as you like.’ They both knew it would take more than a few days.

  ‘I, ah, should do something about my wet clothes.’

  ‘It’s all done. I washed and dried them while you were sleeping. Couldn’t do much about your shoes, though. Sorry.’

  Maggie looked at him flabbergasted and a little ov
erwhelmed. ‘I can’t believe you did that. You’re an angel.’ Instinctively, she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. ‘You’re a good friend, Mike. One day, you’re going to make some woman very happy.’

  She may have imagined it, but his smile faltered slightly. Mike cleared his throat as he deposited his empty mug into the sink. ‘Yeah, that I am.’

  * * *

  Maggie was thankful that she wasn’t alone when she headed back to the apartment. It was empty, both Leanne and Warren nowhere to be seen. Her hand poised to open the bedroom door, she felt a wave of nausea roll through, but as she pushed open the door, she saw that Sharon’s side of the room was stripped bare. No posters, no perfume bottles or empty cans of Coke lying around, no clothes strewn on the floor. It was blank. Sterile. It was as if Sharon had never lived, or died, in the room. Her mother, or maybe one of her sisters, had been here, and Maggie was relieved she hadn’t been present. She had spoken only briefly to her parents, but they had been so dazed with shock that Maggie was sure they wouldn’t remember doing so.

  She packed her belongings with lightning speed, and then walked over to the chest of drawers they’d shared. It was as suspected, bare, save for a tiny sliver of gold that glinted in the light. As she pulled at it, she saw what it was and emotion clogged her throat.

  Last year, they both had bought each other ‘Best Friends’ necklaces. Sharon had insisted that Maggie take the side that had the word ‘Best’ because she said Maggie was the best of them. The memory of that day was so raw and real that she could barely breathe. Slipping Sharon’s side of the pendant onto her chain, she walked out of the room and closed the door behind her with a thud.

  ‘Ready to go?’ Mike asked.

  Maggie fingered the pendant and clicked the two parts to form a whole heart. ‘Yes, I’m ready. Let’s go.’

  If only mending her own heart was as easy.

  * * *

  After sorting her things in Mike’s spare room, Maggie called Bobby, but when it went straight to the answering machine, she decided to brave the rain and walk from Mike’s apartment on Elizabeth Bay Road to Potts Point. As she approached his door, there was loud music, which explained why he perhaps hadn’t heard the phone. Maggie had to knock several times before he answered, except, it wasn’t Bobby at the door.

  ‘Hello, can I help you?’ A willowy brunette with dark eyes stared at Maggie as if she was a drowned rat. Maybe she was; the rain had picked up and she didn’t have an umbrella.

  She was slightly confused and perhaps disorientated, so she glanced at the door number and back at the woman. She didn’t have the wrong apartment. This definitely was Bobby’s place, so the question was, who was this woman and why was she answering Bobby’s door?

  ‘Honey, who is it?’ Bobby’s voice floated from inside, and for a split second Maggie assumed he was talking to her. But when he appeared in the doorway, his face said it all, as did the massive rock on the woman’s left hand.

  ‘I don’t know, babe, I think this little girl is lost.’

  Maggie glanced at Bobby, then the ring, and when she flicked her gaze back to him, he knew that she had seen it.

  There was only one thing to do. She ran.

  ‘Maggie, wait!’ Bobby called out after her. ‘Stop! Let me explain.’

  There was no point. She flew down one flight, then another, and she didn’t stop until she reached Mike’s apartment. She sat on the couch in a daze, hugging her knees and rocking back and forth.

  She wasn’t sure how long she was there, maybe half an hour, maybe more, but the second she heard Mike’s key in the door, she launched into his arms.

  He held her, stroking her head tenderly, shushing her, telling her all would be fine. She didn’t ask why he was home early. Later she would discover Bobby had gone to her apartment and then The Vinyl Room looking for her, and that was how Mike knew something was wrong.

  ‘You were right,’ she told him soberly. ‘He dropped me like a dirty dishrag.’

  Mike framed her face and sighed. ‘I didn’t want to be right. I’m sorry that he hurt you. You deserve better, Maggie Hart.’

  There was something about the way he looked at her that made her think, maybe, just maybe … It may have been her grief or his kindness, or perhaps it was the realisation that Mike was right, that she deserved better, she deserved someone like him.

  So she kissed him, and let herself forget, just for a brief moment in time, just how much of a mess her life had become.

  Thirty-three

  Maggie

  August 1991

  ‘Is she asleep?’ Maggie whispered as Mike tiptoed down the hall.

  He placed a finger to his lips and nodded. ‘Finally.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Maggie said. ‘I know you’ve been looking after her all day, but I have to get this assignment done before prac starts next week.’

  Mike shrugged. ‘Hey, it’s not a problem.’

  ‘But it’s your night off, I feel really bad.’

  ‘How about you take a five-minute break,’ Mike lifted the textbook off her lap and pulled her up, ‘make us some tea, and then we’re even?’

  ‘Mike McGee, you cannot be serious. It’s Friday night and you want tea? Turning twenty-five has made you soft.’ She socked him playfully in the stomach.

  ‘Ha. You wish. Nah, I’m good with staying in tonight. Maybe we should try that new pizza place?’

  ‘Yes, I can’t remember the last time we had pizza.’ Maggie had not long moved into Mike’s when she discovered she was pregnant, and all of a sudden, everything had changed.

  She quit her job at The Vinyl Room and went back to working part-time at Grace Bros until Brianna was born, and then with Mike’s encouragement she started her medical degree.

  On her uni days, Mike looked after Brianna. He was still working nights, although he too had moved on from the club and was working at Hotel Nikko. She knew Mike had plans to open a bar of his own, but he was waiting for her to finish her studies. Maggie was forever feeling guilty that because of her pregnancy, Mike’s life was put on hold to help her, but at the same time she knew that if she didn’t have him, she had nowhere else to go. Her mother would’ve surely considered her an even bigger disappointment if Maggie had called on her for help.

  ‘Then it’s settled.’ Mike nudged her towards the kitchen. ‘Make that tea, and I’ll order pizza. You have two days until your internship starts so get cracking.’

  Maggie knew that she had it good with Mike. She and Brianna were blessed. She loved Mike, and she loved how he was with Brianna. And if things were different, if they both had felt the same, then Brianna could have had the family she deserved. But the heart was a fickle beast and the chance that she and Mike would be more than what they were—well, it would be a snowflake’s chance in hell.

  The night before her internship was about to start, Mike handed her an envelope with her name on it. She immediately recognised the penmanship.

  It was her mother’s.

  ‘How … where … where did you get this?’ She looked at Mike, baffled.

  Mike sighed heavily and gestured for her to take a seat on the couch. ‘I guess now is as good a time as any to tell you that ever since Sharon’s funeral, I’ve been in contact with Rosie.’

  Unsure of which emotion she needed to address first, she raised her brow. ‘Rosie?’ Anger and betrayal vied for attention. ‘Since when are you and my mother on a first-name basis?’

  ‘Since we, ah, started meeting for lunch every month.’

  Maggie looked at Mike, her mouth agape. ‘Michael McGee,’ was all she managed, shaking her head.

  ‘Look, she was worried; all she wanted was to keep an eye on you.’

  Maggie sighed and set her gaze forward. ‘This is typical Rosie. Always wanting to control my life.’ Then, throwing an accusing look in his direction, ‘And she sucked you into being her little spy.’

  Mike shook his head. ‘Maggie, you have it all wrong. It was I who reached out to her.’
/>
  ‘What?’ Maggie was livid; the betrayal was worse than she thought.

  ‘Rosie wanted to make sure that someone was keeping an eye on you. She was worried—’

  ‘That I was wasting my potential,’ Maggie said drily.

  ‘No, actually she was worried that you didn’t have anyone to help you after Sharon’s death. I think it was her less-than-subtle attempt at trying to figure out if we were a couple.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I told her that we were living together,’ Mike said slowly. ‘But that there’d never been anything romantic there.’

  Maggie pursed her lips. ‘You lied to her on that one.’

  Mike chuckled. ‘It was before you decided to jump me.’

  Maggie felt her face flame as she recalled that night. ‘Well, we both know what the result of that night was.’

  Mike reached out and took her hand. ‘Yeah, we do. If I wasn’t clear about my life before then, I certainly was afterwards.’

  Maggie waggled her finger. ‘Don’t stray off topic; I’m not happy discovering that you’ve been lying to me. It’s been five years since Sharon died. Does Rosie know …?’

  ‘About Brianna? Yes. She knows. She also knows about you and uni and she is extremely proud.’

  ‘Oh, I bet she is. I bet she told you how she always knew I had the potential to be a doctor.’ Her tone was resentful and Mike surprised her by sending her a pitiful look.

  ‘Do you even know why she was so invested in you becoming a doctor?’

  Maggie tilted her head. Mike’s question was interesting. Never had she and Rosie ever discussed this. Never had she asked her mother why it was so important that she become a doctor, nor had Rosie ever been forthcoming on the subject. ‘No, but something tells me that you do.’

  ‘That letter explains it all.’ Mike nodded pointedly.

  Maggie’s gaze slid to the envelope, hating both that Mike knew something she did not, and that perhaps whatever the letter contained would change everything. She knew her mother, and she knew Mike. Rosie didn’t open up to just anyone—hell, she hadn’t even opened up to Maggie—but a part of her understood how Rosie could open up to Mike. After all, hadn’t she done the same thing?