by Susan Lewis
Over the next twenty-four hours she tried several times to tell Madeleine, but the words wouldn’t come. When she got ready she dressed in the bathroom, taking her coat in with her so she could hide the new skirt and blouse she had bought in the C & A January sale. When it was time for her to leave, she glanced down the hall and saw that Madeleine was painting her nails in the sitting-room while watching the local news on TV. But when Marian called out that she’d be back later, Madeleine got up and wandered into the hall.
‘Where are you going?’ she asked, eyeing Marian’s lipstick.
‘Only to a lecture at the museum,’ Marian answered breezily.
Madeleine pulled a face. ‘I thought we could go to see a film,’ she said. ‘White Mischief’s on at the Whiteladies. Charles Dance is in it. You like him, don’t you?’
Marian nodded.
‘Forget the lecture. I’d have thought you’d had enough of them to last you a lifetime, anyway.’
‘Actually, I’m meeting someone.’
Suddenly she had Madeleine’s full attention. ‘Oh? Who?’ she asked.
Marian looked at her helplessly, then blushed as Madeleine started to laugh.
‘It’s a man, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘That’s why you’re all dolled up.’ She gave a little leap of excitement. ‘Marian! You’ve got a date! You crafty old thing, you. Why didn’t you tell me? Well, come on, who is he?’
Marian knew there was nothing she could do but come straight out with it. ‘Paul O’Connell,’ she said flatly, and watched with mounting dismay as the laughter died in Madeleine’s eyes and her face twisted into a scowl of distaste.
‘That’s not very funny,’ Madeleine said. ‘If you don’t want to tell me who he is, then just tell me to mind my own business.’ She spun round and stomped back into the sitting-room.
Marian waited for her to sit down, then went to stand in front of her. ‘Maddy,’ she said quietly, ‘it’s only a lecture, and I wouldn’t poke fun at you that way, you know I wouldn’t. Somebody let him down so he asked me if I’d like to fill the place.’ It was what she had told herself. ‘But, if it’s upsetting you, I’ll stand him up.’
Madeleine looked up at her, her eyes glassy and her mouth pinched. ‘When did you arrange it?’
Marian tensed. ‘He rang yesterday afternoon, while you were at the shops.’
Madeleine’s top lip curled. ‘He rang yesterday, and you’ve only told me now? Did he realise he was talking to you? I mean, if he’s got our names mixed up and you turn up there tonight, then he’s going to have a pretty horrible shock, isn’t he?’
Marian turned away and walked to the door. ‘I don’t know what time I’ll be back,’ she said, ‘but don’t wait up.’
As she closed the door her heart was thudding violently and her nerves were drawing sickeningly at the base of her stomach. She got as far as the Victoria Rooms, then almost turned back, but somehow she made herself keep going.
When she arrived at the museum he was already there, sheltering in the archway from the rain that had just started. She hurried up to him. ‘Hello,’ she said shyly. ‘I’m not late, am I?’
‘No.’ He smiled, and her heart gave an acrobatic lurch. ‘I just got here earlier than I expected,’ he said. ‘Shall we go in? I’ve reserved us a couple of good seats near the front.’
The two-hour lecture passed Marian by in a haze of Raphaels, Titians and da Vincis, and no matter how deeply the lecturer analysed colour, to her everything seemed rosy. Several times she grimaced at her own mawkishness, straightening her back and tried to pay attention, but to no avail.
‘There’s a tapas bar along the road,’ Paul said, when the lecture was over and they were being jostled into the street by the rest of the small crowd. ‘If you’re not in a hurry we could have a coffee, and you can give me your own thoughts on the Renaissance – and old Judd’s lecture.’
Marian’s heart sank. She doubted if she could remember a word, and even if she could, it would be impossible to express any of her thoughts to a man like this. She was so much out of her depth she could feel herself drowning in her own temerity. She should never have come.
Reading the situation perfectly, Paul took her arm and leading her off up the street, he made jokes about the lecture, told her stories about Michelangelo and Botticelli, and astonished her with his knowledge of the Medicis. He was careful not to put her in a position where she would have to respond with anything more than a laugh or a question, sensing that for the moment she was too shy to assert an opinion. On the few occasions he’d seen her, usually at the Chateau with her cousin and her friends, she had always been on the periphery, trying very hard not to look left out, but never quite succeeding. Her bright, intelligent eyes were what had first drawn his attention, though he’d given her no more than a cursory glance at the time. Had Madeleine but known it, it was her interest in him that had provoked his in Marian. Girls like Madeleine were two-a-penny – maybe not quite so beautiful, nor quite so vain, but they were all predictable, empty-headed, and on the whole, coarse. But if Madeleine hadn’t made such an obvious play for him, he might not have given Marian a second thought. As it was, he hadn’t been able to help noticing her sinking embarrassment on the occasions when Madeleine engaged him in what she considered a flirtatious exchange, nor had he missed Marian’s many but fruitless attempts at joining in the inane conversations and raucous laughter that circled her cousin.
It was because of Marian that he’d turned up at the New Year’s Eve party – he had sensed something different about her, something unusual. He’d never been involved with anyone quite so plain before, but looks meant little to him. It was her mind he found intriguing, and that impish sense of humour he’d caught a glimpse of on New Year’s Eve. He admired her humility, though it was a touch extreme; and her obvious love for Madeleine, and the way she so subtly tried to protect her, fascinated him. She would make for an engaging character study, he felt – probably worthy of a novel if she was as pliable as he suspected. If not, then she would be an entertaining diversion for a while.
An hour later, sitting in the tapas bar, he said, ‘It’s your turn now. You know all about me, what’s there to tell about you – and don’t say not much.’
Marian laughed, because that was exactly what she’d been about to say. ‘Well,’ she began, ‘I didn’t go to Harrow like some.’ She threw him a look and he winked. ‘Neither do I come from the north. I’ve never flown in Concorde, written a book or danced barefoot with the Prince of Wales.’
‘Who said anything about the Prince of Wales?’
‘Me.’
He laughed. ‘So what have you done?’
‘I got my degree in philosophy, which I don’t know what the heck I’m going to do with. I learned to type, and can barely get a job with that either. I accumulate bills the way a teenager gathers spots, and apart from the thrills and spills of the occasional museum lecture my life is so ordinary that one day I’m sure I shall disappear inside one gigantic yawn.’
She’d hoped to make him laugh again, but he was serious as he said, ‘It’s not really that bad, is it? I mean to say, having a cousin like Madeleine must make life – well, interesting at the very least.’
‘Oh it does,’ Marian agreed. ‘But I’m a bit like an outsider looking in; I expect you’ve noticed. Sometimes I think it’s a bit spineless of me to live through Madeleine, but I’m not one of the world’s great extroverts, I’m afraid. People don’t exactly beat a path to my door begging for the stimulus of my conversation, or insist that a party wouldn’t be complete without me, like they do with Madeleine. So yes, she does make life more exciting – in fact, I couldn’t imagine it without her. But it’ll change one day, and I’ll be forced into making some decisions about myself. I dread that, to be honest, because I haven’t got the first idea what I want to do, but I’ll think about it when it happens. Until then, Madeleine and her career must come first.’ She stopped, feeling suddenly dizzy and hardly able to believe she’d said so
much.
‘Why must she?’ he asked. When Marian only looked at him he went on. ‘It seems to me that your cousin is more than capable of looking after herself.’
‘That’s just where you’re wrong. But she will be.’
‘And you? Are you capable of looking after yourself?’
Marian laughed. ‘I doubt it. But until Madeleine achieves her dream I suppose I won’t really know. The trouble is, I’m weak and cowardly, and I wouldn’t have any friends at all if it weren’t for her. Not now Rob and Mary have gone to Tibet.’
‘Why do you say you’re weak and cowardly?’
‘Oh, that’s easy,’ she smiled. ‘Because I am. I’m not proud of it, but knowing your limitations, your faults, is partway to beating them, don’t you think?’
He nodded thoughtfully. During the pause Marian felt embarrassment take a nauseating grip on her stomach. She couldn’t understand why she was saying all this. She’d never spoken to anyone about her inmost feelings before, she’d hardly even admitted them to herself. He must be appalled by what she had told him, disgusted even. Her hand trembled as she pushed her cup away, then she jumped as he took it between his.
‘I think you’re right about knowing your faults,’ he said, his black eyes seeming to reach right into hers. ‘It can help to overcome them. But you’re wrong in thinking you know what yours are. You’re not a coward, Marian, and neither are you weak. You’re simply afraid of being alone, and guilty of needing someone to love. If that’s a fault, then it’s one common to the entire human race. Tell me about your boyfriends.’
Marian tensed and quickly drew her hand away. She was looking past him when she answered, staring sightlessly at the people passing outside. ‘I’ve never had one,’ she said candidly. And then she gave a slight toss of her head. ‘Please don’t pretend surprise, I’m quite aware of my shortcomings in the looks department.’
‘You really don’t like yourself too much, do you?’ he laughed. ‘Well, I’m going to let you into a secret. I do.’
Marian’s grey eyes rounded, and as she stared at his handsome face it was as if the room had started to spin, and she felt suddenly faint.
‘Why do you really make such a fuss of Madeleine?’ he asked. ‘The truth.’
She swallowed hard, trying to get a grip on herself. ‘The truth is all that I’ve just told you,’ she answered.
‘Uh-uh,’ he shook his head. ‘There’s more. Something in the past.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘Because you’re so protective. You know her failings better than anyone else, you know she doesn’t match up to you intellectually and you secretly despise her exhibitionism, yet you tolerate it all. Why?’
Marian’s face was stiff. ‘Because her parents, my uncle and aunt, as good as abandoned her when she was only eight years old. They went off to America, promising they would come back, and they never did. Then when Maddy was ten they were killed in a plane crash. She’s never shown any signs of grief, and that’s why my mother and I make such a fuss, as you call it. So did my father when he was alive. You shouldn’t look down on Madeleine, you know. She might seem flighty and capricious to you, but she has feelings like anyone else, and she’s the most generous person I know.’
‘And probably the most selfish, too. No, don’t look at me like that. It’s true. She’s sapping every ounce of self-esteem from you, and you can’t see it.’
‘That’s not true,’ Marian replied hotly. ‘She includes me in everything she does. I’d be nothing without her. And really you shouldn’t pass judgement on people you don’t know and situations you have no understanding of.’
Paul’s face was comically contrite, and after a moment or two Marian gave a grudging smile.
‘You think it’s you who needs her,’ he said, ‘but it’s the other way round. She’s a very lucky girl to have a cousin who cares about her as much as you do. But one of these days it’ll be you who’s swept off her feet with love, not Madeleine. I wonder what she’ll do then?’
Marian couldn’t help being flattered that he should think that even remotely possible, so she didn’t answer.
He rested his chin on his hand and looked at her. ‘How old are you?’ he said.
‘Twenty-two. Madeleine’s twenty.’
‘Is she? Well, I’m thirty. And if you don’t think I’m too old for you, I’d like to court you, Marian. Now, what do you say to such an old-fashioned proposal?’
She blinked, as if trying to wake herself up. The corners of his eyes were creased in a smile. Then, suddenly aware that her mouth was gaping, she snapped it shut.
He signalled to the waiter for the bill, then reaching into his raincoat, he took out his wallet. ‘I can do it with flowers and chocolates,’ he said. ‘Or with walks across the Downs. We can go to the theatre, more lectures, the cinema. We could even drink at the Chateau if that’s what you’d like. In fact, we could do it all.’ He took a pen from his inside pocket and scribbled something onto a card. ‘I can see you’re not going to give me an answer now, so here’s my number. Give me a call when you’re ready. Now, can I walk you home?’
Dazedly, Marian got to her feet. A damburst of joy, of incredulity, of sheer amazement was threatening to engulf her, but she struggled to suppress it. She was afraid. If she gave in to it now, then her life would never be the same again. The safe obscurity she had always known would be smashed, the door would close on her mundane, everyday life and she would step into a world of recognition and excitement that until now she had only ever known when she stood beside Madeleine. Paul O’Connell would be her boyfriend, his time would be spent with her, his secrets would be hers, his desires, his ambitions. She would know him in a way no one else would. She gasped as pictures of their life together unfolded in a crazy, euphoric pattern. At last she was going to be somebody. Marian Deacon had a boyfriend, and it was Paul O’Connell. How could she go through with it? But how could she not? Suddenly she burst out laughing. He had asked to court her and shock had jolted her mind into a ludicrous turmoil of melodrama and trepidation.
He didn’t ask what had amused her but pulled her arm through his, and they walked off down the road. She had no idea, that night, of how accurate her instincts were, how right she was to think of melodrama, because she had no way of knowing, then, the earthshattering effect that Paul O’Connell was going to have on her life and on Madeleine’s.
– 2 –
Madeleine’s hand cracked like a whip across Marian’s cheek. ‘You sly, conniving little bitch!’ she screamed. ‘I don’t know how you’ve got the nerve to stand there and say that to me.’ She made a cruel mimic of Marian’s voice: ‘“Paul O’Connell wants to court me!” Court. What kind of word’s that when it’s at home? And you know I’ve been trying to get off with him for weeks, so just what the hell are you playing at? What have you told him about me? What did you say to poison his mind?’
Marian was rubbing her cheek and blinking back the tears of pain. ‘I’m going to bed,’ she said, and turned to walk from the room. But Madeleine grabbed her and yanked her back again.
‘What did you say!’
‘I didn’t say anything about you,’ Marian answered calmly. ‘At least, nothing horrible.’
‘You liar! Well, I’ll tell you this for nothing, it won’t last. He’s only using you to make me jealous.’
‘Maybe,’ Marian said.
Madeleine gave a scream of rage. ‘You surely don’t think he fancies you, do you? A man like that with someone like you – it’s too ridiculous for words.’
‘I know.’
Madeleine sneered. ‘You know! You’re out of your league, Marian. And you only want him because I do, which is just typical of you. You want everything I’ve got, you always have.’
Marian took a deep breath. ‘Maddy, I’m going to bed. Maybe we can talk about this more sensibly in the morning when you’ve calmed down.’
‘Don’t act stuck up with me!’
‘I’m sorry. But you do
n’t mean the things you’re saying so there’s no point in dragging this out.’
To her surprise Madeleine let her go, but Marian knew that wasn’t the end of it.
The following morning, as she dressed for a day’s work at the Bristol and West Building Society, she knew Madeleine was awake, but judging it better to leave her, she went off to work, intending to phone her later. But when she did, Madeleine hung up, and when she returned home at six o’clock Madeleine had already gone to work and there was no note waiting for her. Her heart sank. Obviously Madeleine was still angry and she shuddered at the thought of another scene like the night before’s.
She wandered into the kitchen and lit the gas under the kettle before setting about the pile of washing-up Madeleine had left. It would be foolish to let him come between them, she told herself, after all he was little more than a stranger. And Madeleine was probably right, it wouldn’t last, so what was the point in creating all these problems? But in her heart she knew she wanted to see him again, and her eyes filled with tears as indecision racked her. Paul had denied that she was weak, but he’d change his mind if he could see her now. She didn’t have the courage to tell Madeleine she would carry on seeing Paul, and neither did she have the courage to ring Paul and tell him she wouldn’t see him again. If only Maddy could understand how wonderful it would be for her to have someone she could really talk to. She knew already that she could discuss anything in the world with Paul, including her own feelings and insecurities. But Madeleine wouldn’t understand. She would ask what was the matter with discussing things with her, after all she was family, wasn’t she? To explain to Madeleine would mean hurting her, and Marian wasn’t prepared to do that, no matter how much she wanted to see Paul.