‘And your apartment’s somewhere in between?’
She nodded. ‘About ten, fifteen minutes from my sister’s place.’
‘Then why on earth would you drive all the way back, and then down again tomorrow? That isn’t fair on you.’
‘It’s fine. I don’t mind.’
‘Seriously, Maddie, you have to help me understand,’ said Aiden. ‘Would Henry be angry if you stayed?’
‘Of course not. He doesn’t get angry . . .’ Sulky, maybe.
‘Then what’s the problem? Is there only one bed in the apartment?’
‘One bedroom, but there’s a fold-out sofa as well.’
‘Then we’re all set!’ he declared. ‘Come on, you can have another drink with me and relax, instead of spending the whole night in the car.’
Madeleine could feel herself wavering. The champagne was good, the evening gorgeous, the company was all right too. If she made that long drive home, without Aiden, she’d be going back to the deafening silence, while Henry worked the night away in his study.
Aiden was watching her. ‘I’m going to call Henry,’ he decided, taking out his phone.
‘No, don’t!’ she pleaded.
‘He’s not going to argue with me,’ he said, tapping his finger on the screen to bring up the number.
‘It’s not that.’
Aiden stopped to look at her. ‘Then what is it?’
She hesitated. ‘Just . . . don’t say it’s because we’re drinking, okay?’ Oh God, why did she say that? He was giving her such a strange look.
‘Sure, no problem,’ he said, in a tone one might use to placate a mental patient. ‘Darrow!’ he said, moments later. ‘Yep, I’m finally back . . . Yeah, good. Listen, my flight was delayed, and your magnanimous fiancée waited all this time . . .’
Madeleine’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open at the barefaced lie. But Aiden just winked at her.
‘I’m too shattered to go any further tonight, Dazza . . . Do you like that? I heard it up in Queensland, it’s my new nickname for you . . . No? Well, we’ll see. Anyway, why don’t we just meet at Maddie’s sister’s tomorrow? We’ll stay at the apartment . . . Yeah? . . . Sure, I’ll put her on.’
Madeleine’s throat felt tight as she took the phone from Aiden and held it to her ear. She didn’t want to lie to Henry; they didn’t lie to each other. ‘Hi,’ she said warily.
‘Hi, are you okay?’ he asked.
‘Sure, of course. I can drive home if you want?’
Aiden gave her a stern look, shaking his head as he picked up her glass to refill it.
‘Look, it’s fine with me,’ said Henry. ‘To be honest, I’m working really well; if Aiden came back tonight I’d have to stop.’
‘Oh, I see.’ He wouldn’t stop for her.
‘I’m glad you two are getting along,’ he was saying. ‘This gives you a chance to get to know each other better.’
‘Well, if you’re sure it’s all right.’
‘Of course. Have a good time.’
‘Thanks. And you eat something, won’t you?’ Henry sometimes got so absorbed when he was working that he forgot about everything else.
‘I will, don’t worry about me. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘Okay . . . ’night.’ Madeleine hung up and handed the phone back to Aiden, and he slipped it into his pocket.
‘So there we go, it wasn’t a problem at all, you had nothing to worry about,’ he said, raising his glass.
She picked up her full glass and took a decent slurp. She was annoyed now. So if she wanted to stay at the apartment for the sake of her work, it wasn’t okay, but if Henry wanted her to stay away for the sake of his, then that was fine.
Aiden was watching her. ‘Hey, I thought you’d be pleased – now you can relax.’
‘You shouldn’t have lied to him.’
‘Well, you asked me not to mention the drinking . . .’
Madeleine could feel herself reddening.
‘What’s that about?’ he asked.
‘Nothing. It’s sounding like a bigger deal than it is.’
‘So if I’d said we were staying down here because you wanted to have a drink, that wouldn’t have been a problem?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Then why did you ask me not to mention it?’
This was beginning to feel like an interrogation. She had to tell Aiden something, he’d just lied to his best friend for her. ‘It’s not like I’m an alcoholic or anything . . .’
He looked surprised by that. ‘I didn’t say you were, Maddie. I wasn’t even thinking it.’
But now he was. Damn it.
‘Does Henry think you’re an alcoholic?’ he asked.
‘No, but you know how people who don’t drink much can be . . .’
‘Yeah, boring,’ he joked.
But Madeleine just gave him a pained look.
‘Hey, Maddie.’ Aiden put a hand on her knee and gave it a rub. ‘Lighten up. I understand. I’m sure Henry’s just a bit sensitive because of his father.’
She frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You know about his father, right?’
‘I know they fell out of contact after his mother died,’ she said. ‘Which I did find pretty strange. Especially when they didn’t seem to have any other family, except the grandmother he used to visit.’
Aiden was staring down at his glass, looking decidedly uncomfortable.
‘What do you know, Aiden?’ Madeleine asked.
‘I’m not sure I should say . . .’
‘Come on, you brought it up.’
He took a breath. ‘You’re at least aware Henry had a tough time of it growing up?’
‘I don’t know if you’d call it tough, exactly. Lonely, for sure.’
Aiden looked at her directly. ‘Maddie, I think having two addicts for parents, a mother dying from what was basically a prolonged overdose, and then a father disappearing – I’d call that tough.’
She stared at him, shocked.
‘You didn’t know any of that?’ said Aiden. ‘What has Henry told you about his parents?’
‘He never said anything about them being addicts,’ Madeleine said. ‘Addicted to what, exactly?’
‘His father was a chronic alcoholic.’
‘Oh.’
‘And his mother was a chronic enabler, so his father was able to hold down a job, but they kept to themselves, pretty much. He didn’t like people coming to the house, knowing their business. He was a mean son of a bitch, apparently.’
Madeleine was stunned. ‘Was he violent?’
‘I don’t think he ever laid a hand on Henry, from what he said, anyway. So I suppose the guy had some boundaries. No, he stuck to emotional and mental abuse. His mother turned to pills eventually, to cope. That’s what killed her.’
‘Henry said it was kidney failure.’
‘It was, from prolonged abuse of pharmaceuticals,’ said Aiden. ‘I think she was slowly killing herself, timing it for when Henry was independent and out of the house.’
Madeleine’s heart was breaking for Henry, for his mother. ‘So . . . what about his father?’
Aiden sighed. ‘I can’t believe he hasn’t told you this,’ he said. ‘Henry went back home for his mom’s funeral, naturally. His father gave him a cheque. It was for a few thousand dollars – not a fortune, but enough to tide him over for a while. Henry tried to keep in touch, calling the house, but there was never any answer. After a while the phone was disconnected, letters Henry sent were returned . . . They’d never been close, but he started to worry. He went back the next chance he could, and his father was gone. There was a whole other family living in the house, total strangers. And no sign of his father.’
Madeleine sipped her wine, trying to imagine what that would have been like – devastating, surely, especially on top of the death of his mother. Aiden went on: the new owners of the house were kind, Henry had told him, they even showed him the papers with his father’s signatu
re and invited him to take a last look around, but he didn’t feel comfortable. He might have done if they weren’t there, but he could hardly expect them to leave him alone in the house. So he handed over his keys and left. He made a few enquiries – with the realtor, and some other local businesses that his father may have had dealings with – but no one could tell him anything, and his father had left no forwarding address. Henry never heard from him again.
‘I can’t understand why he wouldn’t have told me any of this.’ Madeleine was shaking her head.
‘I don’t know, maybe he’s embarrassed by it all,’ said Aiden. ‘Maybe it’s just too hard for him to talk about. I mean, he was abandoned by his own father. I can’t imagine how that must have affected him, deep down.’
Madeleine couldn’t imagine it either. It was beyond imagining. She drained her glass. ‘I think I need another drink,’ she said finally.
Aiden lifted the bottle out of the ice bucket. ‘I’m not sure I should have told you all that.’
‘No, it’s fine, I’m glad you did.’ She paused. ‘I do have a right to know, I’m about to marry him.’
‘That doesn’t mean it was my place to tell you.’
Madeleine met his gaze. ‘You’re the best man. If not you, and not Henry, then who?’
He looked pensive as he refilled her champagne glass. Madeleine reached over to cover his hand with hers. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t tell him you told me.’
‘That doesn’t bother me,’ said Aiden. ‘I can answer to Henry myself. But you do probably need to clear the air with him before the wedding.’ He splashed the last of the champagne into his glass. ‘That’s it for this bottle,’ he said, upending it into the ice bucket.
‘I’ll get the next,’ said Madeleine.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, you don’t have to buy all the drinks.’
‘No, I meant are you sure you want to get another bottle?’
She groaned. ‘Now you too?’
‘Sorry.’
‘I’m not driving, so I’m going to relax like you said. And besides, I think I need a drink after all that.’
‘Fair enough,’ said Aiden. ‘Do you know if they serve food here?’
‘I think so.’
‘All right, well, let’s at least have something to eat with the next bottle.’
‘Deal.’
Aiden went to the bar to ask for a menu, and Madeleine looked out at the sky, dark now. The sun had set completely. She hadn’t even noticed.
She couldn’t understand why Henry had never told her any of that. It couldn’t be healthy to suppress it so completely. Maybe he had worked through it in the past, but surely that meant he should have been able to talk about it freely with his fiancée. He had never lied outright, she supposed, but he’d certainly omitted all but the barest details. And Madeleine couldn’t help but think that the omissions meant he hadn’t dealt with it all. She thought about their future, shut up in Pittwater, away from everyone. What about when they had children? What sort of a father would Henry make with all this suppressed pain and rejection bottled up inside of him? It was all quite unnerving. He should be able to face the past and share it with the woman he was going to marry, for godsakes.
Madeleine was going to marry Henry in just a few short weeks, and suddenly she felt like she didn’t know the first thing about him.
The morning after
‘Maddie . . .’
Oh. My. God. Her head was literally splitting. Yes, literally. It would not surprise her at all if she opened her eyes right now to discover that her head was halved like a rockmelon, her eyes staring out at opposite sides of the room.
‘Owwwww,’ she squeaked.
‘Maddie . . .’
Who was that? Henry never called her Maddie. Maybe this was a dream . . . but why was she in so much pain if it was only a dream?
‘Maddie!’ the voice repeated, a little more urgently now.
‘Go away,’ she groaned. ‘You’re not real.’
‘Maddie, it’s Aiden. And you really have to get up. Henry called, we have to be at your sister’s in, like, an hour.’
She opened her eyes wide, and closed them again immediately. Too bright. ‘What are you doing here, Aiden?’ she said weakly, keeping her eyes shut fast.
‘That’s funny,’ he said dryly. ‘I’m going to help you sit up now.’
Madeleine felt his hands under her arms, and next thing he hoicked her up the bed and propped her against the bedhead. She gasped.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
‘No.’
‘Here, open your eyes and take a sip of water.’
‘No water,’ she murmured, turning her face away. ‘Coffee.’
‘No coffee until you’ve rehydrated a little.’
‘I want coffee,’ she whimpered, ‘and Panadol.’
‘What’s Panadol?’
Oh . . . damn . . . what was it? ‘Headache tablets,’ she said finally.
‘No, you’re better off taking ibuprofen.’
‘What’s that?’
‘It’s a painkiller too, but it’s also a vasoconstrictor.’
‘A what?’ She blinked, opening her eyes in a squint.
‘An anti-inflammatory. The pain you’re feeling is from the blood vessels in your head expanding. Ibuprofen will relieve that.’
‘Then give me some . . . stat!’ she cried.
‘You can’t take it on an empty stomach. Drink some water and I’ll bring you your breakfast.’
‘Can only manage Vegemite on toast,’ Madeleine said wearily, listing sideways. It was too hard to stay vertical.
‘Not that nasty black gunk you Australians eat?’ he said, curling his lip. ‘No, I’ve made you eggs.’
‘The fatty fry-up doesn’t work for my hangovers, I’m telling you.’
‘It’s not a fry-up,’ said Aiden. ‘Now sit up properly and hold on to the glass.’
She did so unwillingly, bringing the glass to her lips and taking a tiny sip that she could barely swallow. As it trickled down her throat and into her stomach, it created a wave of nausea. She felt like crap. She had forgotten that one of the advantages of living a more sober life was never having to wake up with a hangover. It was totally worth it. Madeleine might never drink again.
‘I don’t know why I feel so bad,’ she said in a small voice.
‘To be honest, I don’t know why you do either,’ said Aiden. ‘We didn’t drink all that much, a couple of bottles between us . . . I mean, I know that’s not nothing. But we had food, and we didn’t mix drinks. Then all of a sudden, it seemed to hit you hard, right at the end.’
‘It must be because I hardly ever drink any more.’ She groaned. ‘This is terrible, I don’t even remember getting home.’
‘That was no big deal, we caught a taxi.’ Aiden stood up. ‘Now, try to keep some more water down, and I’ll get your breakfast.’
‘I have to use the bathroom first,’ said Madeleine, slipping her feet out the side of the bed. Her legs were bare – hold on, what was she wearing? She stopped, waiting for Aiden to leave the room.
But he was watching her. ‘Are you okay? Are you going to be sick again?’
Her face dropped. ‘Again?’
He didn’t say anything; he didn’t have to, the expression on his face answered the question for her.
‘Can you give me a minute?’ she said feebly.
‘Sure.’ He walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Madeleine pulled back the covers all the way. Okay, so she was wearing underwear – relieved to note – and the top she’d had on yesterday. A good top, bugger it; it was almost new. And now she’d slept in it, stretched it out of shape and probably vomited on it. She got up to inspect it in the bathroom mirror, stepping over her discarded skirt on the way. All right, at least no one – namely Aiden – had had to change her clothes or do anything untoward. No matter how drunk she was, Madeleine was sure she would have been capable of slipping off
her skirt and falling into bed. She checked herself in the bathroom mirror. Ugh, grim. Very bad case of bed hair. She held out her top to inspect it in the light. There was a decent splodge of something down one side. Hopefully it was just champagne. That would leave a mark on this fabric, wouldn’t it? She didn’t want to think about what else it might be. Whatever, she’d have to give it a good soak, but she wondered if it would ever be the same again. She wondered the same about herself.
Madeleine was splashing water on her face when she heard a knock out on the bedroom door. ‘Can I come in?’ Aiden called.
‘Just a sec!’ She dashed back into the bedroom and grabbed a pair of tracksuit pants, pulling them on. Uh-oh, she’d moved too quickly, and now she was dizzy, and she could feel sweat breaking out across her forehead. Madeleine crawled gingerly back onto the bed and lay on her side, curled up in the foetal position. ‘You can come in now.’
The door opened and Aiden walked in carrying a tray. ‘Hey, are you feeling worse?’ he asked, concerned.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t think I can eat, Aiden.’
‘You have to,’ he said firmly. ‘I promise it’ll make you feel better. And Henry called again –’
‘Oh God.’ Madeleine hauled herself upright. ‘I should ring him.’ She glanced at the bedside table. ‘Have you seen my phone?’
‘No. He said he’d been trying to call you all morning but it kept going straight to voicemail.’
Shit. ‘It’s probably flat. I hope I didn’t lose it, I can’t remember when I used it last . . . Have you seen my handbag? I did come home with it, didn’t I? Please tell me I did.’
‘No, I did – I grabbed it when we were leaving.’
While she was busy throwing up, probably. This just kept getting worse.
‘I think it’s out in the living room. I’ll get it for you.’ Aiden lowered the tray onto her lap. ‘You stay put and eat something, or else you’re not going to be in any fit state to go to your sister’s. And then I’ll be in trouble.’
‘Thank you.’ Madeleine stared at the food. The smell was almost making her sick. There was a neat mound of scrambled eggs, and two triangles of dry toast. And some clear pinkish liquid in a glass. She took a cautious sip; it was okay, kind of semi-sweet. Aiden came back into the room with her handbag.
The Best Man Page 17