by Brogan, Kim
She threw her head back and gave out a, “Ha!”
Now I was angry at her ‘ha’ of superiority. “What are you, a married woman, doing making out with Peter in front of Campbell? That’s pretty tacky.”
Well, if she didn’t think I was mad already, her look certainly said I’d lost my mind. Her eyes narrowed and her brows knitted before she responded, “Maggie, you are the most bizarre woman I know. Were you dropped on your head as a baby?”
I continued to stare. “You’re saying you two have an open marriage?”
She tilted her head. “Heavens no! What made you think that?”
Campbell walked in with a cup of coffee and noticed the two of us almost nose to nose. He cleared his throat, “Is there a problem here?”
Gemma sneered. “Your girlfriend here is as crazy as they come. She thinks there’s something wrong with kissing my husband.”
I shook my head vehemently. “No, I said it was tacky kissing Peter in front of her husband!”
Now Campbell was looking at me like I was loopy.
I swallowed and asked Campbell, “You mean, it doesn’t bother you?”
“Why should it?”
“Well, in America, women don’t kiss other men in front of their husbands.”
Campbell and Gemma glanced at each other. Campbell took a step closer and literally felt my head, “Maggie are you okay?”
“There you all are! We were hoping to start the toasts, come along Campbell.” Fiona floated over to us.
Campbell turned to Fiona. “Maggie’s acting very strange. I think she should lie down.”
I was frustrated and angry with all of them. I turned and barked, “Fiona, how would you feel if Henry and I made out?”
She smiled at me. “Darling, you wouldn’t live long enough to find out.”
I threw my hands up. “I rest my case!”
Fiona looked at Campbell for an explanation.
“She just told Gemma that it was tacky for her to be kissing Peter,” Campbell explained.
Fiona wrinkled her nose. “Mags, I thought you didn’t mind public display of affection?”
I waved my hands. “No, no, no! Not just an air kiss. They were exchanging body fluids—that kind of kiss.”
Fiona checked my forehead. “Maggie, they’re married, why shouldn’t they?”
I was exasperated, “No, she wasn’t kissing Campbell; she was kissing Peter that way.”
Campbell’s face cleared up and Gemma started laughing.
“Maggie, do you think that Gemma and I are married?” Campbell asked.
Of course, when someone asks it like that, you know you’re in trouble. My face drained of color and I slipped a hand over my heart. “You aren’t?”
There was a huge wave of laughter at my expense. It took several minutes before Campbell could continue, “Mags, Gemma and Peter are married. I told Gemma about you and me a few weeks after we went to Paris. She started dating Peter when he came over to Paris to help with our case.”
“But, I sent you dozens of emails, why didn’t you return them, let me know that?”
I saw Gemma’s face go from laughter to apprehension. Campbell tilted his head. “Dozens of emails? I didn’t get any emails. I received your two calls and returned them.” Campbell’s face tightened, his jaw clenched as he turned around and looked at Gemma. “Gemma, may I speak to you?”
She didn’t bother retreating, “Oh for God’s sakes Campbell, I did it because you didn’t need to be distracted by her nonsense. All those, ‘I love you, Campbell, call me, come home, when are we going to see each other, I’m leaving…my God the woman acted as if you had abandoned her.”
Campbell’s face dropped. “I had—to some extent. Mags, Gemma reviewed all my emails and forwarded the important ones to my blackberry. I’m sorry; I didn’t know you were feeling so abandoned.”
I lunged at Gemma, grabbing her pearls and ripping them off her throat, they went rolling everywhere. “You bitch! You fucking bitch!” After a good old fashioned tackle, I had a handful of her hair when Campbell grabbed me around my waist, lifted me up, and hauled me off of her, almost slipping on one of the pearls.
Gemma screamed, “I’ll get you Maggie!” The servants started to pick up the pearls, “There’s 68 pearls…there better be 68 pearls…and you’re paying to restring them!”
I was kicking and screaming in midair, “Fuck you!”
“Come on Maggie, I’m taking you upstairs.” Campbell threw me over his shoulder and literally carried me up to my bedroom. “Now stay here for a few minutes while I give the toast. Calm down and then you can join us.”
I was livid. “Doesn’t it bother you that she did this to us?”
“Yes, but I’m not surprised. If you’ll remember, I was cheating on her. I suppose it was her way of getting back. I wasn’t thinking clearly back then. Between losing my father and almost losing the estates, I wasn’t really functioning on all cylinders. But, Maggie, why are you so upset? It worked out well for you. You’re going to get married and you’ll soon be a lawyer too. If we were together we’d be arguing about where to live.”
How could I tell him? I had made up such an elaborate lie, and there was still the fact that I was going to be living in the States. We had both come to terms with being apart. I didn’t dare stir things up again. I’d leave tomorrow morning and it would all be over, I’d never see him again and we’d both begin to heal.
I reluctantly nodded my agreement, “You’re right of course. Go ahead and make the toast, I’ll come down when I feel better.”
He smiled and left me. I closed my eyes and shook my head. If I had known, would I have gone home? Maybe, but I would have at least tried harder to get in touch with him.
The bed was so inviting, I decided to take a short nap. Since the photos had been taken and I had no one to impress. I laid down in my dress and pulled the throw over me. I closed my eyes and about an hour later I heard the door open.
“Who is it?” I asked.
“It’s me Mags; I just wanted to see if you were okay. You are my guest after all.” Campbell stepped just inside the door.
“Have a seat, I won’t bite. Is Gemma still upset?”
“No, we found 68 pearls and I promised that I’d have them restrung with a nicer clasp. That seemed to appease her.” He sat down on the opposite side of the bed.
“I’ll pay you back.”
“No, after the pain we both caused you, I’ll pay for it.”
“Well, Mags,” he said softly, his voice full of regret, “if you had known all this, would you still have gotten engaged?”
The lie, the fucking lie. “Oh, dear, this is worse than a Shakespearian Comedy. Campbell I so wish I could go back in time.”
“Tell me about it. I wasn’t going to say anything, but now that you know I’m not married, would you mind if I stopped by next month to see you? I have to go to the States, actually California, to take care of some business. It seems that I managed to get things calmed down in Europe, but now we have some contractual problems in the States. I’d like to meet your fiancé and make sure you’re okay.”
I felt like crying, “That would be great if there was a fiancé.”
He smiled and squeezed my hand. “I understand.” And then he did a double take, “Wait…what did you say?”
I turned a bright red and tried to talk.
“Damn it, Mags, what the hell do you mean—“if there was a fiancé?””
“I thought you were married. I didn’t want you to think I was a loser, that no one loved me.”
His mouth was wide open and the look was somewhere between surprise and fury. Preparing for his wrath, I closed my eyes.
“You don’t have a fiancé? You lied to me?”
I nodded.
His hands formed fists and he shook his head at me. I thought he was going to implode so I reached out to touch him, but he pulled back.
“Maggie, don’t. Just don’t. I’m quite crossed with you.” He turned and went into hi
s bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
I had really fucked up. I didn’t understand why a fake boyfriend had made him so angry when just a few seconds before that he was begging to come to California to make sure I was going to be alright.
The embarrassment was too much, he could see me now for the pathetic loser I am. It was clear that I had just destroyed his image of me, and from the look on his face, it was the final nail in the coffin.
I couldn’t face anyone now that the cat was out of the bag. Everyone would soon know that I had no fiancé, it was a lie, and that I had attacked Gemma when it was me who had slept with her boyfriend behind her back.
Time to cut bait and get the hell out of Dodge. I undressed, leaving my beautiful bridesmaid dress on the hanger in the bedroom. After slipping my jeans and T-shirt on, I packed the rest of my things and rang for a servant, sobbing the entire time.
Walker, himself, appeared. “Ma’am?”
“Walker, can you arrange for a car to take me to Heathrow?”
“Heathrow, Ma’am?”
“Yes, uh, I just received a phone call and there’s an emergency at home. I’d prefer not to bother the Earl or the wedding party. I’ll leave a note.”
“Certainly. I will arrange for the car. May I say that I’m sorry to hear that you’ve been called back home.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll send someone up for your luggage when the car is pulled around.”
“Thank you, Walker. And, because this is probably the last time we’ll see each other, I just want you to know that I think you do a phenomenal job.”
He didn’t bat and eye, but stood in his butler tails, his arms behind his back. “Thank you, Ma’am.”
I received a call ten minutes later letting me know that there would be a delay as the Earl was short on cars. Most of his cars were in used, taking several of the older guests home who did not want to stay into the wee hours to dance. “I’ll ring when the car is at the side entrance.”
It was a good hour later when the phone finally rang and Walker informed me my car was available. I grabbed my bags, but there was a knock at the door and a young, male servant took them out of my hands. We went downstairs and I was surprised to see a Bentley waiting for me. The young driver put the bags in the trunk and I crawled in the back. There was a dark window between the front and back seat that separated me from my driver. I think Walker knew I was upset and had arranged for the car that could give me the most privacy.
There must have been an intercom because I heard a voice. “Ma’am, I’m sorry that we have to stop to get gas. It shouldn’t take long.”
“Uh, it’s fine. Would you mind if when we stop I could buy a bottle of water?”
There was no response. I knocked on the window and the driver rolled it down. “Yes, Ma’am.”
“I’d like to buy a bottle of water when we stop, okay?”
“Of course. And, Ma’am, if you need to talk to me, there’s a button on the arm rest next to the window toggle.”
“Yes, I see it.”
“Press it down once to speak, press it again to end your conversation.”
“Thank you.”
I didn’t press it down, the window helped preserve what little dignity I had left. There was a lot of sobbing coming from the back seat as we drove comfortably down the motorway. The driver did not seem to be in any hurry. I could only imagine that he drove the speed limit to insure that we were not stopped. We pulled into a station and I bought my water while the driver pumped the gas. Back on the road, we leisurely made our way down the road.
As if to make my world bleaker, the skies opened up just as we arrived at Heathrow. A porter ran forward, pulled the cases from the trunk, closed it and then the driver assisted me with an umbrella. I offered the driver some money, but he waved me off. “No Ma’am, there’s no need. Have a safe trip.”
“Thank you.”
At the Delta ticket counter, I asked if I could exchange my tickets for the next flight. Although the attendant made an effort to find me a seat, he shook his head.
“I’m sorry, but the flight is completely booked and, in fact, we’re going to be asking a few of the customers to take the next flight which is tomorrow morning at 4:19 a.m.”
I looked at the clock. We were only looking at another five hours in the airport. “Do you have room on that flight for me?”
He spent at least a minute and sighed. “The problem is your ticket—it’s a discounted, non-refundable economy ticket.”
The only ticket I could afford. “Is there anything you can do? I just want to go home.”
“I can get you on the flight tomorrow morning, but I have to charge you the fees to change the ticket.”
I gulped. “How much?”
“$250.”
“Oh…” It was a lot of money to me and I debated whether to find a hostel for the next two nights, and wait for my scheduled flight. But, even a hostel in London for two nights would cost a fortune and I might as well go home. “Fine. Here’s my credit card.”
I cringed as she ran it through, hoping it wouldn’t be rejected. When the machine began to spit out tickets, I smiled and felt the weight leave my shoulders.
Airports after midnight have a strange, ethereal feeling. The stores are closed. Many of the restaurants are closed. Only the Starbucks was open and I didn’t want coffee, I wanted to sleep. Unfortunately, sleep wasn’t to come, the damn bucket chairs didn’t lend well to sleep.
I pulled out my e-reader and began a novel, hoping it would be entertaining enough to get me through the rest of the night. At 3:50 a.m. we boarded the plane and took off on time. There was a two hour layover in Atlanta and then I was off to Los Angeles.
I know I looked a fright, my hair was disheveled from sleeping on the plane, and my top had a stain on it from my crappy airplane meatloaf. Still, I was home, and so wiped out from all the emotional turmoil that I just wanted to crawl into my bed and sleep.
My cell phone rang as I stood by the luggage carousel. “Hello?”
“Where are you?”
“Holly?”
“Yes, where are you? I’m here to pick you up.”
“How did you know I was coming home?”
“Fiona called looking for you. When I told her I was the house-sitter and friend, she told me what had happened. Honey, I’m so sorry. Since you left me your itinerary, I called Delta and they told me when the next two flights from England were arriving. Since you didn’t call me to pick you up last night, I thought you’d probably catch the next flight home. I wanted to be here so you wouldn’t have to wait. I suspect you’re heartbroken.”
My chin started to wobble as I gathered my luggage around me. “I am. I blew it…I had a chance to win him back and I screwed it up with lies.”
“Ah, honey…” There was a silent paused, “Oh, I see you.” She hung up and rushed to Maggie.
Maggie watched Holly make her way through the crowd. Holly had a few too many pounds around her middle and was only slightly taller than Maggie. She was very buxom—all the females in her family had large bosoms. It was these bosoms that Maggie found herself scrunched up against.
“Are you okay, sweetie?”
I nodded as I attempted to pull away. Her arm was firmly gripping my shoulders making it impossible for me to slip her coils.
“Holly, I’m fine, just tired. Can we go? I’d love to get home and get some sleep—like forever.” The smile she gave me was odd. It wasn’t a smile of pity or comfort, but one of mirth, as if I had said something funny. “I’m not joking, I really just want to get in my pajamas and hibernate for a few days.”
“Okay, okay. Let me take the big bag.”
Within minutes we were through the warm, cloudless city of Los Angeles on our way to Buena Vista, where I lived. I put my head back on the headrest and closed my eyes.
“How was the wedding?” Holly asked.
“Beautiful. It was held on Campbell’s estates. Oh, Holly, it was more g
lamorous than a fairytale. Robscott Manor is humongous and stunning. But I can’t imagine growing up there. I mean, on one hand, Campbell would have had acres and acres of land to roam, but the house itself can be cold and overwhelming. Every plate, vase, chair, bed, table, is older than the Declaration of Independence…literally. Can you imagine breaking something older than your country?”
“Wow. I’d love to see it.”
“Don’t get your hopes up. I doubt I’ll ever see it again. But at least I can say I slept with an Earl and stayed on his estates. Hot stuff, huh?”
Holly laughed and patted my arm. “It will all be better soon.”
I must have fallen asleep because when I looked up, we were only a few streets away from my townhouse. Holly pulled up to the curb outside my one bedroom, one bath stucco townhouse built sometime in the seventies. I rented it from a landlord I had never met. All conversations went through a rather pissy little property manager who seemed to think I was the enemy instead of the person who indirectly paid her salary.
Holly rolled my luggage up to the stoop and then bent over to hug me. “Sweetie, I have to go, I’ve got a massage appointment. You okay from here?”
“Yeah, I can get them inside. Any problems while I was gone?”
She shook her bleach-blonde head. “Your mail is on the counter and here’s your key. I’ll call tonight to make sure you can get out of bed.”
“Okay, I’ll see you later. Thanks, Holly, you’re a real pal.”
I watched as she almost pranced down the sidewalk giving me an eerily evil grin over her shoulder. Maybe I should have called her back, asked her what the hell was going on with her, but I was too depressed to care.
Inside, I walked through my small living room to my even smaller kitchen with a breakfast bar. On top of the bar was a stack of mostly advertisements and requests from charities for money. Kicking my shoes off, I grabbed my toiletries out of the suitcase and climbed the stairs to my bedroom.
The bathroom was just outside the bedroom so that guests could use it too. I put the bag down on the counter, brushed my teeth and then made my way into the bedroom. Walking on autopilot, I started taking my top off, stopping with my arms caught mid-air; I caught a glimpse of something in my bed.