She hadn’t expected to hear from Cathie, had tried to forget the words that had stung in Paris. An answerphone message that she was heading down to see her the following day threw Maria into a spin. Was she coming to accuse her of worse things? Could Maria refuse to see her?
The following day, she dressed carefully in cropped navy trousers, a white shirt and a thin grey cardigan. As she was brushing powder onto her nose, she started at the sound of the buzzer: Cathie was early.
The greeting was strained as Cathie appeared in the doorway to the apartment and lingered half-in and half-out.
‘You’ve done something nice to your hair,’ Maria said, indicating the new colour, Cathie’s cropped hair now a mid-brown.
Cathie held a hand up to her head and said thank you with a self-conscious flush. Would she have responded in that way if she planned to shout at Maria? Trying to relax, Maria stepped back to invite her inside. She had hoovered and laid out biscuits on a small plate all ready.
‘I booked us tickets for Sea Life – I think it’s the biggest aquarium in England or something like that,’ Cathie gushed.
Maria tried not to let the surprise show on her face: fish? Was she going to throw her to the sharks? ‘Is it really?’
‘Well, I’m not sure but I thought it might be nice. I’ve parked the car outside if you wanted…’
‘Of course, there’s no time like the present,’ Maria said, scooping up her handbag and following Cathie down the stairs, past the pram abandoned outside the apartment below.
Cathie drove almost in silence and Maria wondered whether she would simply ignore how they had left things after Paris. She snuck a sideling glance at Cathie: her eyes remained on the road ahead. Maria’s palms felt slippery on the leather of her handbag.
They turned into the car park and Cathie took forever shifting backwards and forwards, backwards again to squeeze into a spare parking spot.
Maria hadn’t realised how close the aquarium was to the beach and her heart beat that little bit faster, the desire to turn around and head home overwhelming. Could she say something? Fabricate an excuse?
A few months ago, she wouldn’t have thought twice but today, sitting next to Albie’s sister, her one connection to him, her one chance to learn more about him, she just couldn’t say the words. She would head inside, she wouldn’t look up, she wouldn’t think about it.
She walked quickly – Cathie finally seemed to loosen up just as Maria was clamping down. Just get inside and then relax, she thought as she stared at her feet on the pavement, almost tripping. Pushing through the doors, trying to silence the sound of the rolling waves in the distance, the squawk of a seagull overhead, she could finally focus on what Cathie was saying.
‘I’ll get the tickets,’ Cathie said, moving across to the counter as Maria waited, the world coming to once more. The foyer was largely empty, a mid-week day out of season, with just some pre-school children up ahead, surrounding a harassed-looking teacher and one or two older people reading information about our seas from large boards covered in photographs. Maria could see one of a turtle, its neck trapped in the plastic wrapping from a pack of cans, one eye doleful and despairing.
‘Shall we head in?’ Cathie handed her a ticket and gave her a small smile.
Maria recognised the gesture as one of apology and returned it, able to concentrate now she was inside and the beach out of sight.
They moved through an enormous room lined with tanks, information about the various creatures on display below. In the centre of the room stood an enormous tank, like an indoor pond, that contained huge stingrays, moving rhythmically along the floor. Cathie was peering down at them, admiring their speckled backs, their graceful motion.
Maria was distracted by a nearby array of tropical fish, the colours vivid against the blue of the tank. The atmosphere was soothing, the air cool, with the gentle slap of the water from the bigger tanks, the hum of a nearby air-conditioning unit.
Almost an hour went by, meandering around the various rooms and watching children, noses pressed against the glass as they pointed and squealed. Maria had learnt a great deal about marine life. She would have shared it with Albie, had she been seeing him – he would have enjoyed hearing about it, she was sure. He had always loved the Planet Earth-type documentaries, had instructed her to watch the latest David Attenborough series and she had duly circled them in her TV listings guide. She felt a pinch in her gut that they would never get to discuss it.
Stood next to an enormous tank, reef sharks gliding past inches from the glass, Cathie finally took a deep breath and spoke about it all. ‘Maria, I’ve been meaning to come and see you since Paris. I behaved appallingly. There’s no excuse, I’m ashamed and so sorry.’ She inhaled loudly, the words that seemed rehearsed now out in the space between them.
Maria could have been petty, resisted the apology, acted defensively or even shrugged it off. But she felt nothing but relief, a weight she hadn’t even realised she was still carrying lightening. She looked at Cathie, the lines deep on her forehead as she waited in anticipation of how Maria would act.
‘I really didn’t mean to rub anything in,’ Maria said, ‘I was as shocked as you to discover what Albie had done.’
‘It was none of my business, his money is his money and he had every right to give it to whomever he wanted. I was jealous, I suppose, and it made me say horrible, unforgiveable things.’
Maria held out a hand, placed it on Cathie’s forearm. ‘Not unforgiveable.’
They moved through to another room with two ancient-looking turtles. One gave Maria a wary look as she passed him.
‘These guys might even be older than me,’ Maria chuckled, wanting to distract Cathie, make her realise the past was the past.
Cathie, however, still seemed preoccupied, barely glancing as one of the turtles stepped out onto its artificial bank right below them.
‘I still can’t believe he isn’t here,’ she said, both arms resting on the lip of the enclosure.
Maria joined her, wanting to be a comfort. ‘He is living on in the things he did though.’
‘How do you mean?’ Cathie asked, turning to face her, an overhead spotlight giving her skin a strange green hue.
‘Well, the money, his money, I wanted to explain it in Paris… You see, he spent it on other people. He did so many good things with it, they were all on the list. In fact,’ Maria had a thought, ‘you need to see something. Shall we get out of here?’
Cathie nodded, clearly happy for Maria to boss her about. Perhaps it reminded her of her youth, of following around a brother older by six years. Maria felt strangely overprotective suddenly, imagining a young Albie there by Cathie’s side, wanting to protect.
They left Sea Life, Maria so focused on where she was headed that she barely thought twice as they pushed their way back outside and was confronted with a glimpse of sparkling sea.
‘Let’s get the car,’ she said, her voice steady as she turned in the direction of the car park.
She directed Cathie through the streets of Brighton, the traffic slow with roadworks, the temporary traffic lights finally clearing for them to turn down the familiar tree-lined road, ‘This is it, park here.’
Cathie switched off the engine and stared at the building opposite.
‘Come and see what he did,’ Maria insisted, stepping out of the car and pulling her cardigan tightly around her.
Two girls sat on the wall outside the Youth Centre, staring at Maria and Cathie as they ascended the stone steps.
‘Hello,’ Maria said brightly. One girl chewing gum looked as if she might have swallowed it.
‘Y’alright?’
Maria pushed inside. ‘So,’ she said turning to Cathie, ‘he kitted out this place. He bought them a football table, pool table, jukebox, he re-did the carpets, had the walls painted. Look at them.’ Through the glass of the double doors they could see teenagers standing around the tables, playing, laughing, jostling. ‘And he didn’t tell anyone, he ju
st got on and did it. I only found out because of the list he left.’
‘Did he not want a plaque or something?’ Cathie asked, looking around the foyer.
‘Gosh, I can’t see Albie being fussed about all that.’ Albie would have loathed having his name up and lauded for it. He had been so keen to keep his good deeds to himself, he hadn’t even shared them with Maria.
Cathie raised an eyebrow. ‘When I knew him that was all he wanted. He got a bespoke named desk plate for his office, this ridiculous triangular object, like one of those things that separates the food at the supermarket, and he kept it on his desk with his latest title. He used to make up things like “President” and “CEO”.’
Maria frowned at this foreign idea. ‘I can’t imagine Albie having that kind of ego,’ she said, baffled by this insight into a young, ambitious brother – a stranger to her.
‘I used to tease him for it. Me with my nursing, I was never going to be earning the big bucks. I used to call him Lord Albert to annoy him.’
Maria shook her head, reflecting on the strangeness of how different people could see the same person.
‘It’s great that he changed in that way. I wish I’d…’ Cathie tailed away and Maria genuinely wished she had seen Albie as she had known him: generous, humble, selfless. She wondered what had changed in his past to make him that way, she had always assumed he was just… better.
Before she could ask, a familiar face appeared in the rectangular glass of the door. ‘Maria!’ Troy said, moving into the foyer, with another boy of the same age trailing him.
‘Oh, hello.’
‘Were you looking for me?’ Troy asked, a worried look on his face. ‘Is everything OK?’
Touched by his concern, Maria smiled. ‘Oh no, I was just showing Cathie here the things Albie did. Cathie, this is Troy, Troy, this is Albie’s sister.’
‘Cool,’ Troy said, enthusiastically nodding his head. ‘He was a legend.’
Cathie gave him a tiny smile. ‘I’m just hearing all about it.’
Troy’s face lit up as he turned to Maria. ‘You had the home check yet?’
‘No, not yet. I’ll let you know when they do.’
Troy’s friend was still hovering nearby, and Troy turned to him: ‘This is Maria, she’s gonna adopt a cat, man – I helped her pick him out.’
‘Hello,’ Maria said, giving the boy a smile. He had long hair that fell to his shoulders and a raven tattoo on his neck. ‘That must have hurt, I wouldn’t have the courage,’ she said, pointing to the artwork.
The boy put one hand up to his neck in a self-conscious gesture.
‘I really like it,’ Maria added.
The boy’s hand dropped, his mouth lifting.
‘He’s going to let me do one on his leg when I get qualified.’ Troy beamed.
‘Sick,’ Maria said, which made Troy bark with laughter.
Cathie was watching this exchange in bemusement.
‘Well, we’ve got to get going. See you around, Maria, and nice to meet you,’ Troy said to Cathie and Maria puffed with pride at knowing this polite, lovely boy. Albie had done so well to encourage him, she just hoped she could make a difference too. He deserved good things.
‘Lovely to see you, Troy,’ Maria said and watched them walk out. Then, turning to Cathie, ‘Shall we get going too? I know exactly where we should head next.’
I hated thinking of that last evening. Another row, the same one, sparked as easily as all the ones before.
‘You need to be back here by nine.’
‘That’s so early, Polly’s mum lets her out till ten.’
‘I don’t care what Polly’s mum does, you need to be back here by nine. I don’t want you out in the dark.’
‘No one has to leave then! I’ll look like a baby.’
‘I don’t care how you look, you need to be back.’
She had pouted at that, hands clenched into fists.
‘I don’t have to let you go out at all…’ I’d raised my voice with those words, annoyed because this argument was eating into my evening and I needed to work on some figures for a campaign, the numbers blurring on the page in front of me. But these words always worked.
‘You’re so strict, it’s not fair.’ She’d stamped through to her room, slamming the door.
I’d rolled my eyes, left her to it, and she emerged from her room an hour later, dressed and ready to join her friends. Had I even told her I loved her when she left?
God, I loved her.
Thirty-One
It was quiet, the post-lunch rush already thinned out. Pauline was wiping down a table and looked up as Maria and Cathie moved inside. ‘Hi Maria. Amrit’s off for a couple of days so it’s just me. I’ll be with you shortly.’
‘No rush,’ Maria said, moving to a table near the kitchen, Cathie following in her wake.
Peering through the hatch, Maria saw Keith leaning against the table, leafing through a recipe book. ‘Keith,’ she called out, ‘come out here, there’s someone I want you to meet.’
Keith looked up, one eyebrow raised in surprise and closed the book. He emerged from the kitchen. ‘Who is this new bold Maria and what did you do with my rabbit-in-headlights friend?’
He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and she felt herself blush. Was that what she had been like? A rabbit in headlights? Maria thought back over the last few months: he was right, she supposed, she was more confident now. She felt more… herself. It was the other Maria who hadn’t been her, she realised.
Keith held out a hand to Cathie. ‘Pleasure to meet you, any friend of Maria’s—’
‘Lovely to meet you, this is a nice place. I love the soft blue colour…’ She indicated the walls.
‘It’s been recently refurbished,’ Keith explained. ‘Maria must tell you, it’s quite a story.’
‘That’s why I brought Cathie here, I wanted to show her. This is Albie’s sister, Cathie.’
Keith didn’t say anything, just stood looking dumbly ahead, his hand dropped to his side. Maria shifted her weight, worrying about his reaction. Had he met Cathie before? Was something wrong? Then, without warning, he launched himself at Cathie, enveloping her in a hug, her face pressed against his shoulder. ‘Albie’s sister!’ he repeated, squeezing her close, her face startled, eyes wide. ‘Albie was… Albie changed my life,’ he said simply.
Cathie bit her lip, the raw emotion prompting her eyes to fill with tears. ‘I… we hadn’t spoken for a while.’
Keith nodded sadly. ‘I’m sorry to hear that, I understand only too well.’
Cathie looked up sharply at the sentence, relief passing across her face as Keith moved to fuss over them, clearly not judging her.
‘You two take a seat. Let me make you something, Albie’s sister,’ he repeated, pulling out a chair, grinning like a lunatic. ‘I can’t believe it. You know you do have his eyes… Have a seat, have a seat, a total honour,’ he added, pulling out a napkin with a flourish.
It was as if Cathie were the queen, Maria reflected, giggling at the scene. It was wonderful to see Keith’s reaction, such an outpouring, reminding her once again what an impact Albie had made, how many lives he’d touched.
‘I’ve got some delicious seafood soup left over from the lunchtime rush, today’s special. Let me get you some, do you like fish?’
Cathie nodded mutely, perhaps still processing everything.
‘Excellent,’ said Keith, almost manic, ‘you wait here, I’ll go and prepare it. Some for you, Maria?’
‘Lovely,’ she nodded.
‘Albie’s sister!’ Keith said to himself yet again as he moved back towards the kitchen, tightening his apron as if going into battle.
He returned with bowls of soup and hunks of fresh white bread, the outside crisp, the insides wonderfully warm and soft, the fragrant smell filling the small space. Pauline had cleared the final tables and had joined them for a moment, greeting Cathie with a squeal and immediately presenting her with an Appletiser on the house: ‘For
Albie’.
They swapped stories, Maria pointing out the changes in the café and telling Cathie about the first time Albie had edged his way across the room to sit with her: ‘He just pulled up a chair opposite as if we were old friends.’ She felt the familiar pain in her chest, a sort of delighted agony, as she spoke about him, as she remembered tiny details: his broken nose, his kind dark blue eyes, the scent of talcum powder when he moved past her.
Keith was smiling as she related the tale and started to tell Cathie his own. ‘He did the same for me. Just appeared in my doorway with a coffee and a cheese baguette. Sat down on my mat and started telling me about this news story he’d just read – something about penguins in knitted jumpers, I forget exactly, but it really tickled him.’
‘Doorway?’ Cathie asked, her brows drawn together.
‘I used to live on the streets,’ Keith admitted, his chin tilted a little as if he needed to hide the fact it hurt him to admit it.
‘Oh… But you don’t now?’ Cathie asked.
‘Nope.’ Keith spooned a mouthful. ‘I live above here, landlord can be a pain but at least I have a bed.’
‘Hey!’ Pauline said, whacking him on the upper arm, ‘The landlord’s a bloody delight.’
Keith roared with laughter, rocking in his chair. ‘Yeah, well it’ll do for now.’
Maria settled back, feeling comfortable as ever in the presence of her friends, the café filled with their laughter and chatter. This place would always remind her of good times.
Pauline disappeared again, clattering around in the kitchen, doing a stocktake. Cathie seemed to relax, complimenting Keith on his soup, dabbing the corner of her mouth with her napkin as she took a breath, shared her own memories of Albie from when they were children: building wigwams in the woods behind their house, writing short stories that he would read to her at bedtime.
‘I adored him. He would cart me around on his shoulders and I would constantly bring him things I thought he’d like: rocks, sticks, once a dead bee… It’s funny,’ she said, her voice breaking a moment, ‘I’ve spent so long focusing on our falling-out, I haven’t thought of these things in years, haven’t allowed myself.’ She dropped her head at that, her chin on her chest, the regret obvious as she fell silent.
The Wish List of Albie Young (ARC) Page 25