He turned around to stir the pot again and Madeleine melted. He was doing that thing he did, saying the most incredibly romantic line imaginable like it was a simple statement of fact. She loved him. She really loved him. She wished she could go back in time . . . But it was fanciful and pointless to think that way. Still, she wanted to hold on to this moment for as long as she could. She knew she should just stop stalling and tell Henry the truth . . . but surely the cosmos could afford her just a little more time?
‘Can I ask you something else?’ she said.
‘You have a lot of questions tonight.’
‘Sorry.’
‘No, I don’t mind,’ Henry said, turning around to face her again. ‘You can ask me anything, Madeleine.’
‘Okay.’ She took a breath. ‘Who was your first love?’
He blinked. ‘Where did that come from?’
‘Just something Aiden said one time. That there was a girl who broke your heart.’
‘He told you that?’ Henry didn’t seem cross, more curious.
‘He wouldn’t tell me who, he wouldn’t tell me anything about her – he said he didn’t feel right if you’d never told me.’
‘I didn’t not tell you,’ said Henry. ‘It just hasn’t come up, I suppose. It was a very long time ago. I haven’t thought about it – her – for ages.’
‘But she was your first love.’
‘Not really. First crush is probably more accurate.’
‘At college?’ Madeleine prompted.
He nodded, staring into space as though it was slowly coming back to him. ‘You remember when Aiden was talking about all the girls he used to pick up for me?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘I know he thought he was doing me a favour, but Aiden and I were very different back then – we still are. I love him like a brother, I guess, because from what I hear, brothers, siblings, get on each other’s nerves most of the time,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘Anyway, these girls really weren’t my type. They were the kinds of girls who got drunk at parties and hooked up. I’m not judging, it just wasn’t for me. Having said that, at that age a guy wants to get laid, it’s pretty much all he thinks about, so I went along with it for a while. But it got tired pretty quick; I had to keep making excuses.’ He paused. ‘There was a reason my head was always bent over a sketchpad whenever he came looking for me. But that wasn’t enough to put him off.’
‘So what did you do?’
‘Well, after his uncle took me on, things changed. Aiden was more understanding about my work, that it was something I had to spend time on. And I had to get my act together about college. I had no direction – I had to settle on a major once and for all and start working towards graduation.’
Madeleine’s head shot up. ‘Women’s studies. You majored in women’s studies.’
He glanced at her, mildly bemused. ‘Yes, I did,’ he said. ‘And that’s where I met Gillian.’
‘That was her name, your first love?’
‘Why do you keep using that expression?’
‘I don’t know, wasn’t she?’
‘Like I said, first crush is closer to the truth.’
‘You don’t have to water it down for me, Henry.’
He gave half a laugh. ‘I realise that, Madeleine. It was a very long time ago. I wouldn’t think you’d be bothered by a teenage crush.’
She propped her chin in her hand again. ‘So tell me about her.’
‘She was just a girl I met in class. We clicked right away; there weren’t too many guys in that course, so I guess I didn’t have much competition. But she and I had a lot in common, and we started hanging out together all the time. We became inseparable, you could say.’
‘And?’
‘Well, it went on like that for almost a year, and I still couldn’t bring myself to make a move. I started to think I’d missed my chance, that if I did something it would only ruin the friendship. Our last summer break was coming up, and Gillian had decided to volunteer for Habitat for Humanity down in the south. I was working with Gene to get a couple of my manuscripts ready to submit to publishers, but I also had to support myself in the meantime, so Gene gave me a part-time job doing admin in his office. I stayed up at Long Island for most of that summer, in the Carmichaels’ guest house.’ He turned back to stir the pot.
‘Henry,’ Madeleine said, slightly exasperated. ‘You haven’t said what happened with Gillian.’
He glanced over his shoulder. ‘Oh, because nothing did,’ he said simply.
She frowned. ‘I’m not following.’
He turned around again. ‘A few weeks into summer break, Aiden decided to go volunteering with Habitat as well. When we all came back to college for senior year, they were together.’
‘No.’ Madeleine’s eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open. ‘Did he know how you felt about her?’
‘Of course,’ said Henry. ‘He’d tried to encourage me to do something about it, but I’d told him how I was afraid it would ruin our friendship. I suppose in the end he thought she was fair game.’
Madeleine was perplexed. Why would Aiden do that? This wasn’t sitting comfortably with her at all. And then something clicked in her head. ‘Oh my God. That story he told at lunch at Genevieve’s – that was Gillian, wasn’t it?’
Henry nodded. ‘I admit I do get a little pissed when he talks about it, because it wasn’t all nice and amicable the way he made out, and she wasn’t the one who “drifted” first. There was no drifting – Aiden dumped Gillian right before graduation, said there wasn’t any point continuing, that a long-distance relationship wasn’t going to work . . .’ He gave a rueful sigh. ‘She was heartbroken, she felt like a fool. We were still good friends, so she cried on my shoulder. She also told me she’d been hoping we would get together senior year.’ He paused, thoughtful. ‘But that when Aiden came onto her, he told her I wasn’t interested in her as more than a friend.’
‘He what?’
‘Oh, I don’t know if it was true – I think she was angry with him and wanted to turn me against him as well. Mind you, it probably worked, I don’t think we were ever as close after that.’
‘So I don’t get it. If you haven’t seen him in years, and you weren’t that close in the end, why did you ask Aiden to be your best man?’ Madeleine wanted to know.
‘You might recall I didn’t exactly ask, he nominated himself.’
She didn’t recall that at all. But it’s not as though she’d listened in on the phone call.
‘As soon as I told him I was getting married, he said, I’m coming over, you need a best man. Typical Aiden.’ Henry leant on the bench opposite her. ‘Here’s the thing you have to understand about Aiden. He really is a spoilt rich kid, and worse, a spoilt rich middle child. His older brother was smart and ambitious, and clearly his parents’ favourite. And the girl was also doted upon, as you can imagine. So Aiden still spends his life trying to get their attention and approval. I think he succeeded for a while when he first got some good press for the work he’s doing, but like all things, it eventually settled down. He’s bored with it now, I can tell – he kept complaining that he wasn’t achieving anything, but I think he’s had enough. Which is okay, anyone would get burnout in a job like that. But you have to wonder what he’s going to do next. For someone who’s got so much going for him, he has one enormous chip on his shoulder. You probably couldn’t tell, because he hides it so well, but I’ve seen it in action. He can be jealous and competitive, and he always needs to be the centre of attention. Anyway, enough with the psychoanalytical shtick,’ he said suddenly. ‘Your eyes were glazing over just then.’
‘No, not at all.’ Madeleine might have been in a daze, but not because she wasn’t interested in what he was saying. She’d seen that enormous chip on Aiden’s shoulder, all right, he certainly wasn’t hiding it any more. And jealous didn’t even begin to describe his behaviour. She wished she’d known all this before he came to stay; she may just have tread more warily around
him.
‘Speaking of Aiden,’ Henry interrupted her thoughts, ‘I suppose you’ve heard from him by now?’
Her mouth went dry. ‘Sorry, what?’
‘You’ve heard from Aiden, I gather? You know what he’s up to?’
‘Um . . . No, not really.’ Damn.
Henry was giving her a puzzled look. ‘Oh, well, okay . . . He sent me a text to say he’s going away up the coast for a few days, with some people he met in Canberra. He probably means down the coast, closer to Canberra, I imagine. Anyway, that’s what he’s doing for the rest of the week. Aiden never seems to have any trouble hooking up.’
Madeleine wished he hadn’t used that particular expression. She watched Henry now, tasting the chilli, adding seasoning. They were having such a lovely night, and she was going to ruin it. She was going to ruin everything. It was so good to talk to Henry like this; he’d never shared that much about his past before, but he was being so open tonight. She wondered what had brought that on. And she was staggered by everything he’d said about Aiden. She didn’t know if it was going to make what she had to tell him better, or worse; more fathomable, or perhaps just inevitable.
But she did know she had to stop putting it off. ‘Henry?’
‘Hm?’
‘We have to talk,’ she said, her heart in her mouth.
He turned to look at her. ‘Yeah, we do.’ He replaced the lid on the pot. ‘Let’s go sit, this can simmer for a while.’
Madeleine picked up her glass and headed towards the sofa.
‘No, let’s sit here,’ said Henry, ‘at the table.’
She noticed then that he’d set the table already, and he’d put out a bowl of olives, some sourdough and a dish of oil. More of the things she loved. What was he doing? Why was he being so nice? How the hell was she going to be able to go through with this?
They sat opposite each other, and Henry set his glass down in front of him, leaning forward and clasping his hands on the table. ‘Do you mind if I start?’ he said.
‘What?’ She wasn’t expecting that.
‘I know we have a lot to talk about,’ he said. ‘But there’s something I want to say upfront, before anything.’
She knew she should just be firm and insist he let her speak first, because nothing he had to say was going to matter once he heard what she had to tell him. But she was too much of a coward. Every minute she put it off was only making it harder, but every minute was like gold to her.
‘Sure, go ahead,’ she said finally.
‘I want to sell the house,’ he said.
‘What?’
‘I want to sell the house. I’ve already spoken to a realtor – sorry, real estate agent. That’s what you call them here, right?’
She was struggling to understand. ‘Henry, does that mean . . . Do you want to go back to the States?’
‘Oh, God no, Madeleine,’ he said, reaching across the table to take her hand. ‘Not at all. That’s not what this is about. I want to stay here, with you. Just not in this house.’
‘I don’t get it,’ said Madeleine. ‘You love this place.’
‘But you don’t.’
‘That’s not true. It’s a lovely house.’
‘Madeleine, I’m sure you like the house well enough,’ he said. ‘But wouldn’t you like it a lot more if it was, say, within half an hour of the city?’
He was doing this for her. He would have always done it for her, if only she’d asked.
‘Of course you would,’ he answered for her. ‘So let’s look for somewhere closer.’
‘But . . . what about your work? You need peace and quiet.’
‘Are you going to tell me there’s nowhere between here and the city quiet enough for me to work?’
‘I guess not,’ she murmured.
‘I went for a long drive yesterday,’ said Henry. ‘There are so many beautiful places I didn’t even know existed. I’m thinking – but it’s just a suggestion – that we should leave the peninsula altogether. The traffic’s always going to be a problem with the Spit Bridge. Do you know Greenwich?’ he asked suddenly.
‘I know of it, not sure if I’ve ever driven through it.’
‘Because you wouldn’t, unless you lived there,’ he said, becoming animated. ‘It’s a beautiful place, quiet streets, lots of trees, some views to the harbour. And I checked on Google maps, it’s less than twenty minutes for you to work. But then there’s also the whole other side of the bridge. We can look around closer to your mother, if you like, and Genevieve. I don’t mind, I don’t have an attachment to anywhere in particular. I just want to find somewhere we can both be happy.’
Madeleine nodded vaguely.
‘And I hope you don’t mind that I contacted the local agent before I spoke to you. It’s just that I’m really quite resolved about this.’
‘It’s not up to me,’ she said. ‘It’s your house.’
‘Our house,’ he corrected her.
‘Henry –’
‘We’re not going to have that debate again, are we?’ he said.
She felt queasy. ‘No, all right . . . I just don’t understand what brought all this on.’
‘Don’t you?’ He took a deep breath. ‘Madeleine, it’s pretty obvious to me that things haven’t been right between us lately.’
‘And you think it’s all about the house.’
He shook his head. ‘Ever since I came here, you’ve done everything to accommodate me, you’ve agreed to whatever I wanted.’
Oh God. Don’t give me credit. ‘Well, it only seemed fair,’ Madeleine pointed out. ‘You moved from the other side of the world.’
‘Because that was the only option,’ he said. ‘Your family’s here, I would never expect you to move away from them.’
She hadn’t realised her family had figured so much in his decision.
‘After the other night, when we argued, I got to thinking about it, imagining us living up here with a baby. And I’m not saying that’s a given,’ he added quickly.
‘Henry, I didn’t mean –’
‘It’s all right,’ he spoke over her. ‘I understand you would have misgivings, trying to imagine having a baby living in this house. This isn’t a place to bring up children. I mean, the area’s great, but this house . . . You can’t even wear your shoes to get down the stairs, how are you supposed to carry a baby and all the stuff that goes with it? How am I, for that matter?’
Madeleine suddenly had a mental picture of Henry carrying a baby – their baby – down the stairs. And it broke her heart.
‘But it’s not just that,’ he went on. ‘None of this has ever been fair on you, Madeleine – like driving more than an hour every day to work and then back again. It wasn’t a sacrifice for me to move to Australia, because I was coming to be with you. But you’ve made all the sacrifices ever since, and I can’t . . . I’m not going to ask you to make any more.’
She could feel tears pricking her eyes. ‘Henry, I don’t know what to say.’
‘Say you’ll come looking for a new place with me, somewhere we can both be happy.’
As much as she wished she could, Madeleine couldn’t agree to that; it’d be meaningless, she’d feel like a bigger fraud than she already was. But she had to say something. Henry was waiting for an answer, his expression hopeful, and so full of love. So she said, ‘All right, but now you have to let me talk.’
‘I will,’ he said. ‘I’m just not quite finished yet.’ He glanced across to the kitchen. ‘I think dinner might be ready. Are you hungry?’
‘No . . . thanks.’ Madeleine knew she couldn’t eat.
‘Okay, I’d better turn it right down.’ He went over to the stove, returning a moment later with the bottle to top up their glasses. ‘Oh, you’ve hardly touched yours,’ he said.
‘I don’t really feel like drinking tonight.’
‘Do you want me to get you some water?’
‘I’m fine.’ On second thoughts: ‘I’ll get it.’
‘No, you si
t, I’m already up.’
He brought a jug of water and a glass back to the table, filling it for her, and then sat down, topping up his wine.
‘I have to tell you some things I should have told you before,’ he began. ‘I should have told you a long time ago . . .’ He sighed, dragging his hands through his hair.
‘Henry, what is it?’ she said in a small voice.
‘I’m not sure where to start.’
‘Just go ahead,’ she said. This was exhausting, but she might as well let him get whatever it was off his chest. He was entitled to that much.
He nodded. ‘Okay. Well, before I met you, before I came out to Australia . . . I was seeing a therapist.’
‘Oh.’ That wasn’t what she’d expected.
‘I’m not crazy or anything, Madeleine.’
‘I don’t think you have to be crazy to see a therapist, Henry.’
‘Just troubled?’ he suggested.
‘I don’t know, you tell me.’
‘Well, that’s the thing, there’s a lot you don’t know about me . . . When you asked me about my father the other day, I know I brushed you off, and that wasn’t fair. We’re going to be married, you’ve got a right to know.’
No, they weren’t going to be married, and therefore she didn’t really have a right, but she wanted to hear this from him. Not secondhand through Aiden. So she sat quietly listening while Henry recounted a lot of what Aiden had told her. He didn’t say much more about his father, just that he was an alcoholic and that he’d made Henry’s mother’s life a misery. But the way Henry went on to talk about her was a revelation. He never once referred to her as an addict, as Aiden had. Instead he talked about how much he loved her, how good and kind and patient she was.
‘Too patient, the way she put up with my father,’ said Henry. ‘I used to wish I was old enough to take her away from it all, and when I was a little older I said as much to her. But I was still only a teenager, and she used to shush me, tell me it was nothing for me to concern myself about. She said, “Your father’s doing the best he can, he works hard, and he provides a roof over our heads, and food on our table.” She explained that he’d had a hard life, that his father had died young, and he’d had to go out to work to help support the family when he was not much more than a boy himself.’ Henry paused. ‘I’ve always wondered if there was a cycle, if perhaps his father had died an alcoholic. I’ll never know: there’s no one left who could confirm it either way.’
The Best Man Page 36