by Rosa Temple
‘Your partner is… is this woman?’ Jaime exclaimed loudly. Zac wrinkled the top of his nose.
‘Who did you think I was married to? Hugh Jackman?’ he exclaimed just as loudly, touching his manicured fingers to his chest.
‘Sorry,’ said Jaime. ‘It’s just that I thought… I thought that maybe… I just… don’t mind me, I’ve had a lot to drink.’
I put out my hand to Amina. ‘Lovely to meet you. Zac has kept you a secret for long enough. Love that dress.’
‘Thanks,’ said Amina. ‘Zac has told me all about you and Jaime. Couldn’t wait to meet you.’
‘Amina!’ Jaime declared. She hooked her arm. ‘Let me get you a drink, you poor girl. You can tell me all about how the two of you met.’ She whisked Amina away and I hoped she wouldn’t bring up anything to do with Zac’s sexuality. Zac raised his eyebrows before joining them.
‘Honestly, Madge, you can’t take that girl anywhere. What’s she been here for? Five minutes? And she’s already off her face.’ He waltzed off to join Jaime and his wife. Joseph smiled and nodded at me before making his way through the dancing crowd to follow them into the kitchen.
I made my way around the room, talking to as many people as I could, leaving Anthony to try to catch up with staff who remembered him from before. I found him a little later. He was in a corner speaking to a cougar-type woman I didn’t know, possibly somebody’s plus one, making the most of the best-looking man in the place.
I stole Anthony away for a dance, the first time I’d danced with him in ages. I’d loosened up, relaxed, yet I couldn’t shake this feeling of apprehension or a sense that something beyond me would happen. Could this be the night Anthony and I finally opened up to each other? If it was, what would the outcome be? Would we be a couple on the verge of getting married and thinking about starting a family? In all honesty I couldn’t really be sure how Anthony and I would go into another year.
Just then Riley came up to me and shoved my handbag in my face.
‘This has been buzzing from inside my desk for ages. It was getting too persistent for me to ignore.’ She handed it to me. ‘Better check your messages.’
‘Never know,’ I joked, ‘someone might be inviting me to a good party.’
‘Hey,’ she said in mock despair.
Just above the sounds of the live band I could hear my ringtone and charged off up the stairs to my office to answer it. I got to the top of the stairs, pulled out my phone and saw Hugo’s name just as it rang off. I closed the office door behind me and called him straight back.
‘Hugo,’ I breathed.
‘S… something’s wrong, Magenta.’
‘Did you call the hospital?’ I said, looking around frantically for my coat then realising it must be downstairs. I headed for the door but the volume of the music spiked as I opened it. I retreated back into the office, closed the door again. ‘Can you hold on for me, Hugo? I’ll be there as quickly as I can.’
‘Yes. Just get here.’
I spent a brief second looking at my phone, taking one last swallow before opening the office door.
I found myself downstairs, not knowing how I made it down there. Anthony, who was being encouraged by the cougar from earlier to join the conga line, saw my expression and his smile disappeared.
‘You have to go, right?’ he whispered, though I’d still not said a word, just held my phone in the flat of my hand by way of an explanation.
Anthony hustled me through the crowd, found Riley and asked her to call a taxi to get there straight away.
‘Magenta?’ she said.
‘Just do it, Riley,’ he said.
Anthony walked me to the door, helped me on with my coat.
‘He’s all alone,’ I told Anthony. ‘In his flat.’
He led me outside where we were joined by Riley, Jaime and Zac. They’d picked up on something going on, all knowing by now who Hugo was and what was happening.
Anthony gave me a long hug when the taxi arrived. He whispered I love you into my ear just before telling the driver where to take me. I wondered how he knew Hugo’s address but had no strength to ask.
Very soon I was outside Hugo’s basement flat about to knock on his door when I remembered the key he’d already told me I would find under a ceramic pot by the step. I’d told him not to do that, leave a key lying around; that this was London, not the bloody rainforest. He’d only laughed all those weeks ago and told me he was sure it would come in handy.
I found him in his bedroom lying under the thick duvet, his face appearing small and childlike beneath it, his head far back on the pillow as if he was having trouble breathing.
‘I’m here,’ I said, immediately taking his hand and sitting on the side of the bed. ‘I think I need to call an ambulance, Hugo, you look—’
‘No,’ he said, opening his eyes fully. ‘Just you.’
It occurred to me in that instant that there was no Stella. I knew it was pointless asking if I should call her. I could tell by the way he looked at me I was the only one he wanted. All the tension I’d seen in his face when I walked in had vanished.
I took off my coat and lay on top of the duvet beside Hugo. It was warm in the bedroom apart from an intermittent draft of cool air that whipped its way in via a small gap left open at the top of the window. The blinds were up and, with a bedside lamp on, I couldn’t see the garden outside. I could only imagine the two Snow Queen trees at the end of the lawn. Slim, white trunks looking weak against the sparse lawn, the yellow foliage from autumn already gone. I’d thought they’d look fantastic dressed in fairy lights and I’d wanted to decorate the whole of Hugo’s flat for the season but he’d only agreed to the tinsel I’d laced the photograph frames in the living room with. I wished I’d pushed for more now. The room looked large and clinical around the very frail-looking Hugo, lying alone in his flat, far from his home in Brazil, his home in Cumbria, his father, Stella.
‘Do you need painkillers?’ I asked after a while. Hugo shook his head.
‘I took a truckload already.’
‘Well, that’s probably what the problem is,’ I said hopefully. ‘You’re probably just having a turn because you took too many. Nothing to worry about. Maybe?’
He closed his eyes and I was at a total loss. It took all I had not to cry because I was so sure he wouldn’t want me to. So instead I decide to sing.
It must have been cold there in my shadow…
I began with gusto in my best Bette Midler voice, determined to be the wind beneath Hugo’s wings. I got as far as the first chorus before looking up at Hugo and seeing that his eyes were wrinkled shut.
‘What is it, Hugo?’ I said. ‘Are you in pain?’ I sat up.
He nodded slowly.
‘Magenta, please,’ he said, looking as if he wanted to laugh. ‘Please don’t sing. Ever. Never sing, not to anyone. You’ve got an awful voice. It’ll finish me off in no time.’
‘Hugo!’ I knew I couldn’t sing well but a song just seemed so appropriate. ‘Okay, I’ll stop then.’ My bottom lip began to quiver as I sat looking down at him. I had lasted as long as I could without the tears coming. They fell like a shower of rain, landing in giant splashes on the duvet. I tried without success to wipe them away and I tried not to weep so loudly I’d make Hugo cry too.
‘Magenta?’ he whispered.
‘Yes, Hugo,’ I said, trying to sniff my sobs to a halt.
‘I think I liked it better when you were singing.’
‘Oh shut up,’ I said, playfully hitting the duvet at his chest.
‘You left Anthony at the party?’ he said in a low voice.
‘He probably went home. He’s been so good with me lately.’
‘He’s a good man.’
‘I already told you that.’
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘I know because I met him.’
‘You what?’
‘He got my number from your phone and called me. Don’t know how or why it happened but he ended up round here a
nd we had a long chat.’
‘I don’t… Anthony? Here?’
‘Weird, I know, but I enjoyed meeting him.’
‘He never said.’
‘When he left I was feeling a whole lot better about losing you to him.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘God, Magenta. What do you think? I’ve spent years angry at myself for letting you go. When we got back together I was convinced I was the only man for you, the only man you’d need and that us getting back together was the most natural thing, the only logical outcome. I didn’t think for a moment anyone could love you with the strength I loved you.’ He closed his eyes, winced a little.
‘Don’t talk,’ I said. ‘It hurts, doesn’t it? I want to call an ambulance, Hugo.’
He quickly released an arm from beneath the duvet and stopped my feeble attempts to get out my phone.
‘Let me say this first,’ he said in a soft voice. ‘Anthony is your future, Magenta. I don’t know why it is you seem to be pulling apart. He can feel it and you know it’s happening. Is it because you’re waiting for me to… waiting until I…?’
‘Don’t be silly. Anthony and I were having problems way before I knew you were here or what was happening. Look, don’t think about that now. It’s for us to sort out.’
‘But you will, won’t you? You make him happy. Happier than he’s ever been. And he makes you happy. I can tell. You can’t throw yourself into every drama that passes your way, Magenta, and ignore the one big adventure that’s sitting there waiting for you to discover.’
‘I know I love Anthony, Hugo. Wasn’t I the one who told you that… at least a million times?’
‘I know, but I never thought you two were supposed to be together until I heard how he spoke about you.’
I swallowed, stunned to think that the quiet man I’d loved and lived with these past few years could do something as dramatic as come to pay my dying ex a visit. You couldn’t make that up. Was Anthony afraid that, in losing Hugo, I would believe I was losing the man I should have been with? Did he think he was my second choice? It was hard to picture the scene between them but Anthony was obviously feeling insecure about us. I had refused his proposal of marriage and I’d kept Hugo’s being here from him. All classic bad girlfriend moves, enough to make any boyfriend think his relationship was in a bad place.
Hugo turned to one side and curled his body into a ball, clinging on to the duvet with one hand and clutching my hand at the same time. I worked my fingers free of his, found my phone and called for an ambulance.
‘I had to, Hugo. I’m not brave enough.’
‘You’re the bravest person I know.’
With that Hugo rolled onto his back again, his body releasing itself and falling deeper into the mattress, the duvet growing around him like the petals of a flower about to close.
‘Hugo? Hugo?’
He said nothing. I resumed my place beside him on the bed and placed my arm tightly around his body, hugging him to me. It felt as if his body would melt into mine, it had become that limp.
It was only minutes later that I released my arm because I could feel it – Hugo was gone. I let out a feral cry and gasped at the air, air that seemed to have left the room when I needed it most. When I could breathe again, choking back tears, my eyes shut tight, I lay down and put my arm around Hugo’s body.
Soon, a blue light would be flashing out on the road, paramedics would run down the concrete stairway to the basement flat, bang on the glass of the front door. But I would lie there, paralysed, holding Hugo and willing the last few months to rewind, reset and play back in a completely different way.
Chapter 30
Christmas was just days away but standing on the icy ground at the cemetery, a cold snap of wind whipping around my cheeks and invisible flakes of snow falling on the tip of my nose, the last thing I could think about was the festive season. Nothing mattered, not really. It was an awful way to have met Hugo’s father for the second time but he was strong about the whole affair. Stella was the one who fell to pieces, unable to come to the funeral and needing medication to help her cope. I made a promise to Hugo that I would look after Stella even though he hadn’t asked me to. I knew I’d like to have her as a friend. Stella was a good person to have as a friend.
‘Should we?’ Anthony’s voice right by ear made me swoon and fall back against his strong frame. He wrapped his arms around me from behind. I closed my eyes and a teardrop sliding down my face almost turned to ice before it touched my chin. Were all Cumbrian winters this cold?
‘I don’t want you getting ill,’ said Anthony, ‘and everyone has gone back to the house now.’
‘How long have we been here?’
‘Long,’ he said.
I turned to Anthony. The tip of his nose was red and drippy. I’d made him stand in the freezing cold waiting for me to compose myself, after saying goodbye to the first man I truly fell in love with and who had broken my heart. What he must be thinking, I couldn’t imagine. I put my hand into Anthony’s and squeezed it. Together we walked towards the tall iron gates at the front of the cemetery.
At the gates I stopped. I looked up into Anthony’s eyes.
‘Thank you for being there for me,’ I said.
‘Of course. I love you, Magenta. I’m always here for you, you know that.’
‘Yes, but you’re strong, unflappable, sensible and you give me courage when I’m feeling weak.’
‘You? Weak? Hardly.’
‘You know I feel weak at times, Anthony. You know that, just like you know I rubbished what we had by being a complete idiot. The way I’ve acted… I don’t know why I did that.’
‘You don’t?’ he said. I shook my head. ‘Because you’re you, Magenta. Nothing happens in your life without there being a melodramatic twist to it. You can’t help yourself.’
‘But you forgive me, right?’
‘I do.’
‘Like you always do. Anthony, you know me better than I know myself. You make me the best version of me I could ever be.’
‘I can’t take the credit for that.’ He sniffed and exhaled a puff of white air.
‘No, it’s true. Until I met you I blew everything. Got it all wrong. I don’t stop to think. You make me see sense, calm me and I’m glad you do.’
‘Okay, great,’ he said, blowing into his hands. ‘Can we get off to that wake? I know it’s not going to be a knees-up but at least there’ll be a hot drink or some strong booze there. I’m freezing.’
‘I know, I’m sorry, but, Anthony, I’ve got something else I need to say.’
He rolled his eyes to the white sky but smiled so I knew he wasn’t fed up with me, not just yet.
‘Anthony, I love you. I love you so much I can’t imagine a time when you won’t be in my life. I didn’t mean to push you away. That was so wrong of me and, once again, I’m sorry.’ He shook his head. ‘No, wait. The thing I need to say, the thing I want to tell you, to ask you is… Anthony Shearman, my heart, the love of my life, will you marry me?’
Anthony looked down at me, his lips in a thin line. Not only was his nose red but so were his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He sniffed before he answered.
‘No, Magenta.’
I took a step back, almost bowling over an old woman carrying flowers into the cemetery.
‘What?’ I blustered.
‘That proposal was worse than mine. That wasn’t romantic. We’re at a funeral for crying out loud. Talk about inappropriate. My nose is running, you don’t have a ring, you didn’t get on one knee…’
‘You’re not serious,’ I said, eyebrows knotted together.
‘As a heart attack. Look, you just buried someone who was special to you. How do I know this isn’t some emotional response? Just… just give yourself time to grieve and come back to me with a better offer.’
With that Anthony turned and left the cemetery, hunching his shoulders against the cold and stuffing his hands into his pockets. I stood wi
th my mouth open, this time feeling the first flakes of the snow flurry that had been temptingly close to happening since we arrived in Cumbria that morning.
I stamped my foot and began to charge after Anthony.
‘Hey,’ I called but he didn’t stop. I had to run flat out to catch him as he got to the taxi that had been waiting for us all this time.
‘Get in,’ Anthony said. ‘It’s cold, it’s snowing and people will be leaving the wake before we even get there.’
The doors slammed. The taxi was warm inside and the interior nice and cosy even though it did smell a little like salt and vinegar crisps. I gave the driver the address of the remote farm some five miles away. I turned to Anthony who had his face firmly towards the window.
‘So,’ I said. ‘Don’t you want to marry me?’ I noticed the driver’s eyes scan his rear-view mirror until he caught mine and began to look nervous for me.
‘Of course I want to marry you,’ Anthony said, turning to me. The driver exhaled in relief. ‘We’ll get married all right. We’ll get married because that’s what we both want, it’s the thing that will make us happy and we’ll be happy for the rest of our lives. No question about that.’ I smiled and slipped my hand into Anthony’s. ‘We’ll be the Shearman Brights. We’ll stop renting, buy a bigger house in Chelsea with a big garden. We’ll have a beautiful daughter who looks like you: big eyes, big smile, big hair. We’ll call her after a colour and she’ll be the big sister to the chubby little boy that comes next. The wedding will be wonderful because you’ll plan the whole thing. Everyone will cry. I might even sing because I’m that good. We’ll dance a tango as our first dance.’
‘Of course.’
‘Of course. And we’ll live happily, completely happily. Ever. After.’ The last few words were punctuated with a kiss and with each the smile on my face grew bigger.
Outside, the Cumbrian countryside rolled by. I saw an angry teenager leaving a farm, running off to London and one day opening the eyes of a young girl to the possibilities of love. Now I knew love, real love, and I couldn’t wait for the next adventure with Anthony to begin.