Of course in her head she was replacing ‘our’ and ‘we’ with ‘you’ and ‘your’, but it was important she put some small doubt in Christian’s mind about how she felt about him. Right now she was just too damn easy. She needed him to see there was a real chance of losing her.
‘Let’s be friends, OK? Like you said. Have dinner every couple of weeks and keep kisses like that,’ she smiled with flirtatious fragility, ‘off the menu. I think that’s best, don’t you?’
Christian nodded. ‘You’re an incredible woman, Maggie, you really are.’
Maggie smiled, and, kissing him lightly on the cheek, she began to walk away.
‘I’ll call you,’ she said, keeping her voice and her gait steady until she was sure he could not see her any more. She stepped off the high street into the loading alley that ran alongside Woolworths and slid down the side of the wall, feeling the brickwork scrape her skin through her dress. Then she let herself cry, soft, rasping sobs, regardless of who might see or hear her.
Pete looked over at the bar and then back at Angie, whose eyes were fixed on Falcon. He’d been talking to this woman, a curvy tall brunette, for the last twenty minutes, more or less ever since Pete and Angie had walked in through the door. The woman was leaning with her back against the bar, both elbows propped behind her, making the best of her impressive breasts, and Falcon was mesmerised. But despite her come-on body language, her face was another story and she regarded him through heavy-lidded eyes with only a take-it-or-leave it level of interest. Both Pete and Angie watched six-foot-something pink-haired Falcon jump through hoops to get a smile out of the woman. Pete cursed him as he sipped his pint. He should never have let Angie come here, not to see Falcon try and pull another woman right in front of her. Surely a casual relationship doesn’t have to be that casual?
‘We could go if you like,’ he said, putting his arm on her forearm to get her attention. She glanced at him quickly and then back at the woman.
‘No, it’s all right.’ She smiled without conviction. ‘I’m fine, really!’ She turned to Pete and he was alarmed by the mildly delusional look in her eye.
‘I’ll get the drinks in. Same again?’
Pete glanced at his near full pint and then at Angie’s, which she had finished in under ten minutes.
‘Um, well …’ he began, but she was gone before he could say anything.
The door creaked open and Maggie walked in, her head down, her hair shrouding her face. Pete had to double-take before he recognised her. He was about to call out her name when the woman Falcon had been attempting to impress broke away from him mid-sentence and rushed up to Maggie.
‘Darling, what is it? What’s happened?’ Sarah asked her, wrapping her arms around her.
Falcon looked like he’d been slapped in the face, a demeanour that was not improved when he realised Angie was standing right behind him.
Maggie and her friend headed speedily into the ladies. The older barmaid, Sheila, gave the middle-aged couple at the end of the bar a concerned look and they all stared at the ladies’ door in confusion. The woman, Pete realised, as he studied her profile, must be Maggie’s mother. Which meant that this must be Maggie’s parents’ pub. Pete congratulated himself on his powers of deduction and, noticing that Angie had now engaged Falcon in a close and intense discussion, commiserated himself on the loss of his next pint, which even now stood despondently on the bar.
Pete had wanted to take his mind off Stella tonight, to try and clear his head of all the guessing and second-guessing that her absence was forcing him to do, but somehow, with people crying and fighting and generally spreading their emotional pain around like it was manure, it seemed impossible. He wondered again about Maggie’s bent head as she’d hurried into the ladies with her friend. He’d have liked to have had a chat with her about Stella again, get her perspective on things. He’d really enjoyed his ‘coffee’ with her the other day. He liked the way she talked to him and the way she listened. He was surprised by the realisation that not many people did listen to him all that closely. Not Stella, not his students, and obviously not Angie, Pete observed with some distress, otherwise she’d be at home right now with a cocoa.
In any case, it looked as if Maggie had enough problems of her own tonight – that idiot bloke who’d chucked her, more than likely.
Falcon said something to Angie, who simply shrugged and made her exit without even a glance of farewell to Pete. Pete wondered if Falcon regretted hurting her, or sleeping with her, or both. He knew that at some point he should probably try and point out to Falcon that if he really wanted Angie to be just a friend, he should stop sleeping with her. The only trouble was, he didn’t think he could do it in bloke semaphore, with just a grunt of a look. He was sure he’d probably have to actually talk to him, which he knew would make both of them awkward and embarrassed. Perhaps he could just buy him a pint instead, a really meaningful one.
As Pete glanced once again at the black silhouette of the lady in the A-line shirt who guarded the female toilet door, he concluded that all the signs indicated that tonight was not a good night to try and find out the truth about true love. With that in mind, he tugged himself out of his seat to go and collect his next pint.
‘Say that again, but more slowly.’ Sarah handed Maggie another Wet One; she always had a pack in her handbag even now the children had grown out of them. Maggie roughly removed what was left of her make-up, wrinkling her nose against the acrid scent of the wipe.
‘He said he didn’t want us to get back together. That he just wanted us to be friends …’ Maggie paused and looked at her reflection. Her hair was tangled and her eyes were red and swollen. Her lips still tingled with Christian’s taste, though. ‘And then he kissed me and said he didn’t know, he just didn’t know, and he needed time to think …’
‘Fucking bastard.’
Sarah reached for another wipe but then realised the packet was empty. She pulled a tissue out of her back pocket, spat on it and wiped away the last traces of Maggie’s mascara.
‘Bloody fucking coward. Wants to have his cake and eat it, as usual, to have that slapper at home and you on the go. You know what he wants, don’t you?’ She took out her hairbrush and, turning Maggie away from her, quickly restyled her hair into a semblance of order. ‘He wants you to be his other woman now. I hope you told him where to go, young lady?’
Maggie turned and looked at her friend. She could tell Sarah was in no mood to hear the truth from her, and that if she mentioned even an approximation of it she would be sent to her room and grounded for a month. No wonder Becca had become an habitual fibber.
‘Of course I did,’ she said quietly. ‘I mean, I wouldn’t let him mess me around that much.’ Maggie heard the words bounce off the ancient, cracked tiles of the loo and half wished they were true. In reality, of course, she’d let him mess her around as much as he wanted, as long as he took her back one day.
‘And that other girl, that Louise. I feel sorry for her, poor cow. She’s got no idea what she’s let herself in for, has she? I almost feel like telling her,’ Sarah said grimly.
Maggie thought of Louise and her mind spun – she felt bad for her too. After all, she was just as caught up in this whole mess as Maggie was, and she didn’t even know that she was. And she didn’t have any proper friends to talk about it to. For all she knew, she had just found Mr Right and her life was about to begin.
Maggie looked at her friend and hugged her hard.
‘God, Sarah, I’m so glad you were here. God knows what would have happened if I didn’t have you! I can’t let Mum and Dad know about this. Not even Sheila. I’ll just have to say it’s the stress or my period or something.’
Sarah nodded and squeezed her tightly before releasing her.
‘OK, listen, mate. You’re handling this really well, you know? Now you’re past all the false hope and stuff you can really start to move on, all right?’
Maggie gave her a faintly guilty smile and hoped Sarah wouldn
’t see through her.
‘There’s a bloke out there with pink hair who wants to shag me,’ Sarah added. ‘He’s not really all that, but he’s got nice shoulders, you know? I might snog him and see how it goes.’
Maggie laughed. ‘That’s Falcon. He drinks in here all the time. Haven’t you noticed him before?’
Sarah shrugged. ‘I haven’t noticed him notice me before,’ she said. ‘Come on, once more unto the breach …’
As they walked out into the bar, Sarah stopped dead, her hand barring Maggie’s progress.
‘Who the fuck is that!’
Sarah was staring at the bar, her mouth agog, and when Maggie looked, Pete was standing there exchanging a tenner with a particularly coquettish Sheila.
‘Oh!’ Maggie smiled with relief. Someone who would understand and who she could really talk to. ‘It’s Pete!’ she looked at Sarah. ‘That’s the Pete with the fiancée, the one Becca has a crush on – oops, I wasn’t supposed to mention that. Never mind. Hi, Pete!’ She waved at him and moved quickly to his side.
Sarah looked after her and shook her head. ‘That girl,’ she mumbled to herself, supposing that the tall blond was off-limits on two counts now, ‘wouldn’t know real talent if it tap-danced on her arse.’
Sarah eyed Falcon in a new light, as if she was being forced to buy budget when prime was right there. She gave a little shrug and crossed over to him, giving him her best smile. After all, the kids were away all night and she had nothing else on.
‘Are you all right, love?’ Marion asked her daughter as soon as she joined them at the bar.
Maggie smiled at her. ‘Course I am. Um, it was just, you know,’ she glanced at Pete and whispered, ‘girl things. The, er, supplier I met was a bit of a hard bargainer, but I think we can do business. So did you open the champagne?’
Marion shook her head. ‘We were waiting for you, dear.’
Sheila reached behind her into the fridge and handed the bottle to Keith, who opened it completely incorrectly with a large pop and a sudden gush of froth. Sheila shoved six miscellaneously-sized glasses underneath it until each one was filled and then grabbed the largest.
‘Pete.’ Maggie handed him a glass. ‘Join us. We’re toasting the new era of The Fleur, which officially started today!’
Pete took the glass and eyed it. If he drank this then he’d be officially drunk, again. He’d been almost permanently pie-eyed since he’d arrived in this town, and he knew he couldn’t blame it exclusively on Falcon. It was because it was negative Stella time. During positive Stella time he stayed meticulously sober in case she sprang any new surprises on him or tried to get into a fight or clinch with someone. He became her po-faced minder. Negative Stella time consisted of many more physical headaches, it was true, but much, much less demanding ones.
‘Sarah!’ Maggie called out to her friend, but when she looked Sarah was engaged in kissing the face off Falcon, her fingers entwined firmly in his ponytail. Maggie set her glass aside and turned back to her family.
‘Well, then, to our chief investor,’ she nodded at Sheila. ‘And to The Fleur! Long may she sail!’ she giggled and sipped her champagne. ‘Where’s Jim?’ she asked her dad. Technically, she supposed, he should be included in the celebrations.
‘He left you another inventory behind the bar to look at. He’s found all those old books down there, you know, the ones we bought years ago just after we got the place.’ Keith turned to Pete. ‘You used to go to these huge warehouses full of old bits of furniture, mirrors, signs and that and buy stuff for dressing the pub, you know. You could buy books by the yard – never even thought of looking to see what they were. Anyway, we took them down maybe fifteen yeas ago. Must be a hundred of them. Jim thinks a few of them might be worth something. He’s worked hard, and it is Friday, so I gave him fifty to have a night out.’
Maggie looked at her dad and pursed her lips. At some point she’d have to sit down with her parents and explain to them that her taking over the pub wouldn’t work if they insisted on dipping in and out of the business when they saw fit. But that could wait for tonight, at least.
‘Maggie.’ Pete interrupted her train of thought. ‘So are you OK, then? When you came in you looked like you were ––’ He stopped abruptly, remembering just in time that Maggie had seemed pretty sick of him always catching her crying.
‘Yes, I was. Crying, I mean. Again.’ She glanced around the largely empty bar, rolling her eyes. ‘Perhaps I’ll get a listing in the Guinness Book of Records, like that person who hiccupped for seven years.’ Maggie extended her hand as if picturing a headline. “Girl who blubbed most over break-up!” Why don’t we go and grab a seat? My feet are killing me.’
Pete was happy to and they made their way to the other side of the pub. Glancing at Sarah and Falcon, Maggie remembered she had briefly seen the blonde girl she thought was Falcon’s girlfriend when she’d stumbled into the pub earlier.
‘What happened to your flatmate?’ she asked, hoping that Sarah wasn’t getting into someone else’s trouble again.
‘Oh, Angie? She left. Abruptly.’ He nodded at Falcon and confirmed Maggie’s fears. ‘Long story.’
Maggie sighed heavily. ‘God, there’s a lot of it around, isn’t there? I saw Christian tonight.’ Maggie began her story without feeling the need for any preamble. Somehow she sensed that Pete wouldn’t mind. She lowered her voice and glanced furtively at her family, indicating that this was just between her and Pete.
‘I thought – I was being monumentally stupid, but anyway I thought – that he wanted us to get back together. I’ve been a bit mental recently, and I thought I’d found something out when I don’t think I actually did, if you know what I mean?’
Pete did not know what she meant, but he kept his trap shut.
She smiled sheepisly. ‘I thought I was being all Alexis Carrington.’ Pete laughed, largely to cover his confusion. ‘But he was really all over me, Pete, touching me, complimenting me, and so I think I was entitled to be a bit drawn in by it all. Anyway, then I go and tell him how I feel, and he tells me I’ve got it wrong, and I run out of the restaurant and he chases me, and then he …’ Maggie looked up at Pete with a new intensity in her eyes that Pete found rather stirring. ‘He kissed me, really passionately, full-on sexy. Much better than he’s kissed me in ages, actually. Like he really meant it.’
Pete felt himself blush inexplicably as he pictured the image. Maggie was actually very sexy, if he let himself dwell on it. He really had to do something about his libido as soon as he got home, release the build up of pressure, so to speak. He crossed his legs and tried to look nonchalant.
‘And he said he still wanted me, but he didn’t know if we could be together again. He said he needed time to think.’ Maggie leaned forward on to the table. ‘What do you think?’
‘What do I think?’ Pete mused. ‘Well, for starters I think he’s insane. When you’ve obviously got all that chemistry going for you, he’s mad to walk away from it. I wouldn’t.’ Pete grinned at her a little shyly, clearly unused to making obvious compliments.
‘That’s what I think,’ Maggie agreed heartily, deciding he was sweet for trying to cheer her up.
Sheila clanged the bell for last orders, making Sarah jump and slide off Falcon’s knee. He began to laugh until she silenced him with one look. Maggie smiled. Her friend was so hard; nothing ever got to her.
‘But the question is, what can I do about it? Do you want another drink?’
Pete thought that another drink would cloud his head completely and he declined.
‘I know, let’s go for a walk!’ he said suddenly. ‘It’s such a clear night, we might get a look at the stars if the light pollution isn’t too bad.’
Maggie sat down again. ‘Um …’ she said uncertainly. Pete laughed. ‘Oh Maggie, you know I’m not going to try anything. It’s a warm night and we need to clear our heads and form a plan of attack. Walking is the best way of thinking, I’ve always found. We can go to the lakes by
the abbey. What do you reckon?’
Maggie wasn’t sure she was ready to go back to the abbey so soon after tonight’s near humiliation, but she suddenly found the thought of strolling in the moonlight with Pete the pleasantest she had had since … well, OK, since Christian’s hand had briefly but firmly gripped her crotch about two hours ago. But even so it seemed like a cool and calm antidote to that heady and frustrating memory.
‘OK,’ she agreed. ‘Why not?’
She returned to the bar. ‘I’m just going out with Pete for a bit, OK? Would you mind locking up, Dad? Don’t put the bolts on, though, cos I’ll need to get back in again in half an hour or so.’
Sheila raised a pencilled brow and crossed her arms. Maggie ignored her obvious implication and headed out of the pub and on to the high street. The air was still warm and it was a busy night: gangs of girls and groups of lads crossing and clashing, mingling and mixing as they made their way home or on to the next place, hoping that some kind of entanglement would hold and last for that night at least.
Pete took Maggie’s hand and led her across the street and down the cobbled alley that went behind the abbey and to the large park.
‘Anyone sees us,’ Maggie said, laughing and secretly charmed by the unconscious way in which he’d taken her hand, ‘they’re bound to think we’re up to no good.’
Pete smiled at her. ‘Well, it doesn’t matter what people think, does it?’
They walked along by the lakes, the gravel crunching under their feet, and up on to the ridge of the slope where a small section of Roman ruins still stood. Finally, when they’d reached the highest point of the incline, Pete stopped and tipped back his head.
‘There,’ he said, nodding at the expanse of glitterng sky. ‘That’s what it’s really all about, Maggie, out there. That’s the real mystery. And we are all made of stars, you know.’
He released Maggie’s hand and sat down, lying back on the dry grass and stretching his long legs out. He patted the grass beside him. ‘Come on,’ he smiled, and Maggie shrugged and joined him. Somehow the incline of the slope and the dazzle of the cloudless sky made her feel a little dizzy. She held on to earth by entwining her fingers in the rough grass.
River Deep Page 18