by Anna Bell
More than ever, I’ve realised that Max and I have to start living our life again rather than focusing on the past we’ve forgotten. So, in a bid to getting this new chapter in our life together started, when I collected Sasha from Judy’s yesterday, I convinced her and Mick that it was time to tell the truth about their relationship. It’s been three weeks now, and Max’s memory is showing no sign of coming back and the longer it goes on the more uncomfortable I feel lying to him.
They’re on their way over for dinner; officially it’s to say thank you for looking after Sasha when we were in Paris, but unofficially it’s to break it to him gently about their divorce.
Steam rushes out of the oven as I open it to check on the lasagne, which is bubbling away nicely.
‘She went out like a light,’ says Max, walking back into the kitchen.
‘Ah, good. Thanks for putting her down.’
‘No problem. It was my turn; that’s how it works, right?’
‘Absolutely,’ I nod at Max 2.0. I know I should correct him that he’s not a Stepford Husband but I can’t do it. If I’m honest, he’s acting out the fantasy of how I imagined him as a dad, and clearly based on all this, it’s how he imagined himself as one too.
‘It smells delicious. What should I do?’ he says.
‘Um, the salad’s done and the garlic bread is prepped. Open the wine maybe?’ I point to a bottle of red on the side.
‘Is that all you want me to do?’ He walks behind me and slides his arms around my waist. He plants kisses down my neck and I stop tidying away and I turn round and kiss him properly.
‘Max, where are those hands going? Your parents are going to be here any minute.’
His hands keep wandering and he starts to giggle in between kisses, as I slap his hands away.
‘We don’t have time.’
‘I can be quick.’
‘Just what every girl wants to hear.’
‘Or I can be slow,’ he says, planting a long lingering kiss on my neck that makes my toes curl.
There’s a gentle knock at the door and we practically leap apart.
‘Shit, my parents are here,’ he says, running his hand through his hair.
‘I did try and tell you they were due over imminently before you started to get me all worked up.’
He looks delighted that he’s got me hot under the collar.
‘To be continued,’ he says, with a wink as he goes to answer the front door.
I take a few deep breaths and try and fan my cheeks with an oven glove and when that doesn’t work, I open and close the oven in a bid to make it look like they’ve pinkened from the steam.
‘Ah, Ellie, that smells delicious,’ says Judy, walking in. She’s closely followed by Mick, and Graham.
‘Oh,’ I say, not able to hide my surprise at Graham being here. I know he’s part of Judy’s new future, but I really thought they’d be better off telling Max the truth with just the two of them.
‘Oh, Ellie, I forgot to say, I invited Graham,’ says Max, wincing. ‘It slipped my mind.’
Graham looks flustered.
‘Oh, Ellie, you weren’t expecting me, I can go,’ he says, turning to leave.
‘No, stay.’ I walk forward and give him a hug hello. ‘You’re more than welcome. We’ve got plenty of food.’
I give Mick a quick hug and he clings to me like it’s the last hug he’s ever going to give me.
‘I brought you some nice apple juice,’ says Judy, handing it over to me.
‘Thanks, Judy. Max, are you OK to sort out the drinks?’
‘Sure,’ he says. He’s still got that horny teenager look on his face and I try to ignore him. My cheeks are still flushed.
‘Sasha go down all right?’ asks Judy.
‘Yes, Max got her down in record time.’
‘It was all that sweeping up she did today,’ says Mick. ‘She kept following us around in the lounge with her little brush.’
‘Making a mess, more like,’ I say, with a little laugh.
I see the sadness in Mick’s eyes. It’s not just Max who he’s developed a relationship with over the last few weeks, but Sasha too.
‘So, do we get to see the lounge, or is there going to be some big grand reopening?’ says Judy.
‘I’ll show you if you like, Mum?’ says Max, handing out the glasses of red wine.
‘Come on, Graham,’ she says, reaching her hand out only to stop halfway, giving him a little tap on the arm as if she suddenly remembers he’s not supposed to be her boyfriend. ‘You haven’t seen it either.’
‘How are you feeling?’ I ask Mick when the others have gone.
‘OK,’ he shrugs. ‘I know we can’t keep putting this off, but…’
‘It’s hard. You worry you’re going to lose him and Sasha all over again.’
‘Oh, Ellie,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘It’s the biggest regret of my life that I lost him in the first place, and as for Sasha… It’s the main reason I haven’t been over from Portugal to meet her before. When I’m away I can pretend that here doesn’t really exist and that she’s just someone in a photograph, but now I know her personality. The little shuffle she does when music comes on, and the way her eyes almost pop out of her head at the sight of a biscuit.’
He squeezes the bridge of his nose.
‘Come on, Mick, you know that I’ll always let you see Sasha. Plus, you never know, this time might be different with Max.’
‘No,’ he says, sighing. ‘It won’t be. If anything, it’ll be worse because I’ve been pretending. I shouldn’t have gone along with it at the beginning, but when he hugged me when I walked in and he treated me like he used to… I couldn’t help it.’
‘I know,’ I say, reaching out and squeezing his arm.
He blinks back some tears. The others come back in and he walks over to peer out through the patio doors in a bid to hide them.
‘It looks fantastic,’ says Judy, sweeping back into the kitchen. ‘So smart. It’s made me think that we could do with sprucing ours up before we sell.’
‘Sell?’ says Max, picking up his wine glass from the sideboard. ‘You’re selling the house?’
Judy looks at Mick, and I brace myself for the truth to come out. I’d kind of hoped that we’d have got the meal out of the way first, but perhaps this is for the best.
‘We’re downsizing. No point in us having a big old place like that,’ says Mick.
‘Oh right,’ says Max, mulling it over. ‘I guess it’s a bit big for the two of you, but the house is where we grew up.’
‘Oh, well, don’t worry, we’re ages away from putting it on the market,’ says Judy.
‘I don’t think we’re quite that far away, are we?’ says Mick. ‘Start of the new year.’
‘Start of the new year?’ says Max. Since his memory loss, he seems to have taken most things in his stride, but this seems to have hit a nerve.
‘Just an idea, but we can postpone it,’ says Judy, trying to reassure him. ‘But you know, not all change is bad.’
‘Yeah, I know. I’m probably being a bit stupid because I knew you’d sell it one day, but my whole childhood was in that house and right now when I’m missing a lot of memories, I guess it’s nice to cling on to.’
He takes a deep breath and I reach out and squeeze his hand.
Mick raises his eyebrows at Judy and she looks back at him with panic.
‘Where are you going to move to?’ asks Max.
‘I’ve got my eye on a little place in Crookham Village.’
‘Near Graham,’ he says.
Mick laughs before covering it with a cough.
‘Still not very far from you two, though, which is the main thing,’ says Judy. ‘But there’s no rush, really.’
With no big reveals in sight, I open the oven and I declare that the lasagne is ready.
‘Excellent,’ says Mick, ‘I’m starving.’
‘Sit yourselves down at the table. Max, can you set an extra place for Graham.�
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‘Are you sure you’ve got enough?’ he says before he sits down.
‘Yes, absolutely,’ I say, pulling out a dish of lasagne so big that it could feed the whole street and popping it on the table.
Graham sits down next to Judy and Mick sits at the head of the table, leaving Max and I to sit next to each other.
Everyone starts serving up the food, and I reach over to grab the serving spoon at the same time as Max and we brush hands. He can’t resist taking hold of mine and I wonder if anyone else can see the crackle of electricity between us.
‘So, you haven’t told us about Paris yet,’ says Judy. ‘It was all such a rush when you picked Sasha up.’
‘It was absolutely wonderful.’ I’m unable to hide the smile that’s crept over my face.
‘Did you go to the Louvre?’ asks Judy. ‘We got elbowed left right and centre when we went last year, and the Mona Lisa was so small.’
‘No, we didn’t really make it there,’ I say.
‘Oh,’ says Judy. ‘How about Sacré-Cœur?’
I pull a little face.
‘Eiffel Tower? Palace of Versailles?’
‘Um, no, we stayed pretty local,’ I say. We didn’t get more than a few blocks away from our hotel for three days.
‘I guess it’s hard in your condition to walk around a lot, and you don’t want to have crowds elbowing you,’ says Judy.
‘Mmmhmm, yes, that was it,’ I say. Max squeezes my thigh under the table. ‘We just sat about in the cafés a lot, watching the world go by.’
Which is true, in between a lot of sex.
‘That’s one of my favourite things about Paris,’ says Graham. ‘I loved sitting in Place Dauphine, drinking and people-watching.’
‘In that lovely little café where we had that thick hot chocolate,’ says Judy.
‘Oh, did you all go together?’ says Max, breaking off some bread.
Judy looks horrified at her slip-of-the-tongue, but it’s given them yet another perfect opportunity to tell him the truth.
‘Yes, we did,’ says Judy. ‘The three of us went.’
‘The three of you went to Paris together?’ Max looks between all of them carefully.
‘Uh-huh,’ says Mick.
I close my eyes momentarily; they promised me they were going to tell the truth. The opportunities keep presenting themselves but they keep telling more lies.
‘I guess it’s nice that the three of you get on so well.’
‘Hmm,’ says Judy, clearly changing the subject. ‘This is delicious, Ellie.’
‘Thanks, Max helped too.’
‘Oh yes, it tastes so good because of my excellent chopping skills,’ he says, laughing.
‘Don’t knock a good sous-chef,’ says Graham. ‘Everyone needs one, huh, Judy?’
‘Yes, of course,’ she says quickly, ‘and Mick is such a good one.’
Graham’s face falls, but Max doesn’t notice; instead he laughs.
‘That’s a joke, right? Or has Dad started suddenly helping in the kitchen?’
Judy and Mick awkwardly laugh and I raise an eyebrow.
‘A lot’s changed with Mick and Judy in the last five years,’ I say, growing tired of this.
‘Dad, don’t tell me you’ve started cooking?’
Mick opens his mouth but he hesitates as if he can’t find the words. His phone starts to ring and he looks relieved at the distraction.
He pulls it out of his shirt pocket and then freezes when he sees the display. He fumbles around trying to turn it off, but it drops onto the table, and it falls in front of Max.
‘Who’s Ruby?’ he says, picking it up and handing it back.
‘No one,’ he says. ‘Just my Pilates instructor.’
‘Your Pilates instructor is ringing you on a Sunday evening?’
‘Mick’s been trying to set her up with Graham,’ says Judy, quickly.
Graham drops his fork and it clatters on his plate.
‘Oh, that’s exciting, huh, Graham. Pilates instructor,’ says Max, with an exaggerated wink.
‘As I’ve told your dad,’ he says, hardening his jaw, ‘young and flexible isn’t everything. I prefer a mature woman with intelligence and a good sense of humour.’
‘Being young and flexible doesn’t define a person’s character, you know,’ says Mick, and Judy sighs loudly. ‘She is very smart and funny.’
‘Does anyone want any more?’ I say, worried where this is all heading.
Both Mick and Graham take more but the tension’s still bubbling away.
‘So, Mick, didn’t you tell me that you wanted to say something to Max?’ I say, putting my knife and fork down on my plate.
He nods his head and takes a deep breath.
‘Just that, it’s been a real pleasure working on the lounge with you. I’ve really enjoyed spending so much time with you, and…’
This is it; I brace myself.
‘I can’t wait to start on getting rid of the mural too.’
‘Ah, Dad,’ says Max. ‘I’ve enjoyed it too.’
I purse my lips together.
‘Did anyone else just hear Sasha?’
‘I can’t hear anything,’ says Max.
‘You couldn’t just go up and check on her, seeing as you’ve got the magic touch at the moment?’
‘Sure,’ he says, getting up.
I wait until he’s halfway up the stairs when I lean over the table. ‘Are you going to tell him?’
‘I don’t think it’s the right time, do you?’ says Judy, looking sheepishly over at Mick.
‘No, did you see how funny he got about the house?’
I can’t deny that he did look shaken, but that’s no excuse for telling all these lies.
‘It can’t go on forever,’ says Graham. ‘I’m not cut out for this tangled web of deceit.’
Bless Graham, I think Judy’s amateur dramatics are rubbing off on him.
‘I know,’ says Judy. ‘It’s eating me up.’
‘Me too,’ says Mick. ‘Plus, Ruby’s patience is wearing thin. But,’ he adds, ‘I do think this isn’t the best way to tell him. Don’t you think it might seem like a bit of an ambush?’
‘Yes,’ says Judy, ‘I agree. Perhaps we should tell him, just the two of us. We could go for a walk around the pond. We used to love walking there with him when he was younger.’
‘Good idea,’ says Mick.
‘But it will be soon, won’t it?’ I say, sighing.
‘Of course, Ellie. We’ll get the hallways done and then we’ll tell him next week, I promise.’
‘Absolutely,’ says Judy, whispering as Max’s footsteps become louder.
‘Still sound asleep,’ says Max, sitting back down. He puts his hand on the small of my back. I’ve missed these little touches.
‘Ah, sorry, I must have imagined the noise,’ I say, wrinkling my face up. ‘Anyone for dessert?’
I leap up so that he can’t tell that I was lying. This really is Mick and Judy’s last chance, because if they won’t tell him next week, I will. Max and I are heading in the right direction and I don’t want that being built on a foundation of lies.
Chapter 20
Max and Mick did such a cracking job finishing off the lounge that I’ve invited my NCT girls over to christen the room with an afternoon tea. Not wanting to disturb us, Max decided to tackle the jungle that is our garden this afternoon.
I set down a tray of tea on the coffee table and look up, sensing their eyes on me. It doesn’t help that all three of them are sat on the sofa in a line reminiscent of an interview panel.
‘What? Why are you all looking at me?’
‘We want to hear about Paris…’ prompts Polly.
‘So much for acting cool,’ says Helen.
‘I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it. I’m just such a hopeless romantic and right now this story, it’s so dreamy. Can I blame the hormones?’
‘You can always blame the hormones,’ I say, pouring out the tea.
&n
bsp; ‘That photo that you sent of you two snuggled up at that café,’ she says with almost a tear in her eye.
‘I know, it was pretty soppy, but I’m really loving all the hand holding and little kisses.’ I’m beaming.
‘OK, enough with the PG stuff,’ says Helen, reaching for one of the cups I’ve just poured. ‘What we really want to know is: was there full-frontal nudity or not?’
I instinctively look up at the door and strain my ears to hear the strimmer still in action in the garden, meaning Max won’t overhear.
‘Yes, yes, there was. A lot of it,’ I say with almost a giggle.
Helen’s eyes light up.
‘Go on,’ she says, settling back into the sofa.
‘What? That’s it. We did it and now everything is fine.’
‘Everything is fine?’ says Helen, unimpressed. ‘We’ve been waiting for this moment for weeks and that’s all we get?’
‘I’m afraid so. But hang on, what about your babymoon? Surely you don’t need to live vicariously any more,’ I say.
‘Ooh yes,’ says Anneka. ‘Did the underwear do the trick?’
Helen sighs loudly. ‘He put his fucking back out, didn’t he? He spent the whole bloody weekend moaning about how much his back ached. And whilst I’d hoped that we’d spend the whole weekend in bed, him lying there watching continuous sport whilst his back went in and out of spasm is not really what I had in mind. That’s why I need details, I need…’
‘We all know what you need,’ says Anneka, stirring her tea. ‘I’ll send you a link to another online shop, and Toby being out of action won’t be an issue.’
Helen nods in gratitude.
‘So how are the rest of you?’ I ask. ‘I feel like all I do at these meet-ups is talk about myself.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ says Polly. ‘The only thing I have to say for myself at the moment is that my ankles have started to swell up and my heartburn’s getting worse.’