by Dani Atkins
Mac was scoping the room for them, but his search was derailed when he spotted someone approaching us. His smile grew immediately broader, and he raised a hand to beckon them over.
‘Let me introduce you to my friend Andi,’ he said.
‘Ah, from university.’ I nodded, pleased at how impressed he looked that I’d remembered his friend’s name.
The Andi my imagination had conjured was tall, like Mac, and rugged. I saw them playing rugby together at uni and then sinking pints in the student bar afterwards. What I hadn’t been expecting was an exceedingly pretty blonde, whose face had transformed into a beam every bit as wide as Mac’s. The other thing I hadn’t anticipated was that the beer-swilling, sports-loving Andi in my head would also turn out to be six months pregnant.
‘Where did you get to?’ Mac asked, his arm going around her shoulders.
‘Loo trip,’ she said succinctly, the Scottish burr in her voice immediately detectible. ‘The baby’s playing hopscotch on my bladder tonight.’
There was a softness on Mac’s face that I hadn’t seen before. He looked down at Andi’s not inconsiderable bump with genuine affection. My unreliable imagination was rapidly rewriting their story and making up sums that for some reason I didn’t particularly like. Two plus two doesn’t always equal four – but more often than not, it does.
‘Hello,’ said Andi, thrusting out her right hand towards me. But it was the left one, with the absence of a ring on it, that caught my attention. Her shake was just this side of bone crushing. Perhaps the rugby-playing image hadn’t been that far off the mark after all.
‘I’d better introduce myself, as this big dolt seems to have forgotten his manners. I’m Andi.’
‘Molly,’ I supplied in return, summoning up a smile that I really hoped looked genuine.
Mac hadn’t seemed to take offence at the jibe. He’d referred to Andi as his closest friend from university, and although those days were clearly more than a decade in the past, the affection between them appeared undiminished.
‘Molly?’ Andi queried, her voice and eyebrows rising in tandem. ‘The heart girl?’
It wasn’t the way I’d have chosen to be introduced, but I was too distracted to say anything as she turned her head swiftly to Mac.
‘How come you never mentioned she was this pretty?’
It was probably a toss-up to see which of us looked the most embarrassed: Mac or me. I think I won by a whisker.
‘Because that’s not something you really notice about your friends,’ he answered easily, his eyes travelling to me as though he’d just said something nice.
And maybe it was nice; I was too muddled to decipher it properly.
Mac was in the middle of explaining how Andi was a fellow architect who worked for a prestigious company in Edinburgh when he was stolen away by the man with the grey hair. ‘There are some people here who’d like to meet you,’ the man said, with only a cursory apology for having interrupted us.
‘Away with you,’ Andi said, wafting her hand at Mac when he seemed torn. There was a look in his eyes that must have carried a hidden message to his old friend, because she read it and looked slightly affronted. ‘I’m not going to eat her. We’ll just have a wee girlie chat.’
‘That’s what I was afraid of,’ Mac said, sounding as though he was only half joking.
‘He’s worried I’ll give you the third degree,’ Andi said with a grin, swiping a glass of orange juice from the tray of a passing waiter.
‘Why on earth would he think that?’
Her eyes were twinkling with amusement. ‘I may have been guilty of grilling one or two of his potential girlfriends in the past.’ She didn’t look in the least bit contrite. ‘Well, more flambéed than grilled, if I’m being completely honest.’
She was forthright and feisty, and there was a lot about her that reminded me of Kyra. It’s no bad thing to have a fiercely loyal friend who always has your back, and Andi clearly came into that category.
‘Well, you don’t have anything to worry about on that score. Mac and I are nothing more than friends.’ If I was being strictly accurate, even that was an exaggeration.
Andi shrugged. ‘You’re his type,’ she said, as though scoring a winning point.
I was too taken aback to reply. But whether Andi was right or wrong was actually immaterial, because a new relationship was the last thing on my mind at the moment. Besides, Mac was too successful, too worldly, and too much of a grown-up for me. We might only be a few years apart in age, but decades of life experiences separated us. I simply couldn’t imagine myself fitting into his life, nor he into mine.
‘And obviously, after the whole Carrie thing when his sight started to go…’
This should have been the time to point out I had absolutely no idea what Andi was talking about, but I had a feeling the more I stayed silent, the more I would learn.
‘I swear to you, if I ever meet that woman in a dark alley…’
I nodded, as though I too harboured similarly murderous thoughts.
‘He’s better off without her,’ Andi growled.
I wasn’t sure how happy Mac would be if he knew we were discussing his personal life, and the topic was starting to make me uncomfortable, so I changed it. Fortunately, Andi was fiercely proud of her native city, so we were able to spend the next ten minutes discussing Edinburgh, a place I’d only visited once, for the festival, back in my student days.
‘Well, if Mac decides to go for the senior position at my firm, you’ll have an excuse to come up and visit again,’ said Andi, unaware she’d just dropped a bombshell.
‘Mac is thinking of moving back to Scotland?’ I’d been aiming for a tone that suggested polite interest, but even I could hear I hadn’t quite pulled it off.
‘If I have any say in it, he will. It would be great to have him back up there before the bairn arrives.’
I tried out several questions in my head, all of which were thinly disguised versions of and how exactly is Mac connected to your baby? As I couldn’t find a single one that was remotely acceptable, it seemed like a good time to make a polite excuse about needing to find my friends again.
‘It’s been nice meeting you, heart girl,’ Andi said.
‘And you,’ I replied, not sure if that was entirely true or not.
*
After the conversational landmines with Andi, it felt wonderfully comfortable to be back in the company of Alex, Todd and Dee once more. I allowed myself one more glass of champagne and then applied the brakes. As delicious as the canapés were, they weren’t substantial enough for someone who was no longer used to drinking. Dee was recounting an amusing story about some scrape Maisie and Connor had got into when they were younger, while behind me the conversation between Alex and his brother sounded a good deal more sombre. I caught random snatches and managed to piece together that Alex was having some issues concerning the lease on his business premises.
Todd clapped his brother on the shoulder. ‘Just let me know if there’s anything I can do, okay?’
I’m not sure what Alex was going to say in reply, because the room was suddenly filled with the screech of feedback from a PA system. Everyone winced as the man who’d earlier been talking to Mac tweaked something on the microphone stand before him. His speech was long and rambling. I found myself stifling several yawns, and I wasn’t the only one.
‘And now, in conclusion, I’d like to hand over to the man we have to thank for designing the magnificent building we’re in tonight – Mac Derwent.’
My boredom evaporated in an instant as a reluctant-looking Mac stepped up to the microphone. Unlike his predecessor, Mac’s speech was just about perfect: brief and amusing. I thought it had come to an end and was getting ready to applaud when he suddenly paused, as though weighing up something carefully. His eyes scanned the crowd, looking for someone. I thought it might be Andi, but they travelled straight past her, stopping only when they reached the four of us at the edge of the room.
He cleared his throat, and there was an entirely different emotion in his voice when he spoke again. ‘For a very long time I didn’t think I’d get to see the finished building I’d designed several years earlier. I won’t go into the details, but those of you who know my story will understand what I’m talking about. That I’m here tonight, able to see it – to see all of you – is thanks to one very special person.’
Beside me, I felt Alex stiffen. Without even thinking about it, I reached for his hand and gripped it tightly.
‘I can’t dedicate this building to them, but I will dedicate the rest of my career to creating buildings that always please both the eye and the heart.’
Mac’s eyes found mine and wouldn’t let go. There was no glass in his hand, but he raised his hand anyway in a salute.
‘To Lisa,’ he said softly.
Her name, a stranger to all but four people in the room, was repeated by everyone.
26
Molly
‘I’m glad we all decided to come tonight,’ Alex confided as he passed the cloakroom attendant the token in exchange for my coat. ‘To be honest, I wasn’t sure how weird it might feel.’
I sighed with relief, glad to know I hadn’t been the only one with reservations. The smile we shared felt comfortable and familiar.
It was raining hard as we exited the building, and we paused beneath its porticoed awning, watching as the downpour ricocheted off the road and passing cars.
‘Do you want to wait until it eases off?’ Alex asked.
I glanced up at the sky and then towards his car, which was parked a short distance down the street.
‘We could make a run for it? It’s just rain,’ I said with a shrug.
He turned towards me, very, very, slowly, giving me plenty of time to worry that I’d somehow said the wrong thing. There was a moment when the air between us appeared to shimmer like a heat haze. Alex’s eyes were on my face, but he seemed to be looking not just at me but also through and beyond me. The sensation was so strong, I almost turned around to see if someone was standing behind us. Before I could, he’d reached for my hand.
‘Come on then,’ he urged, pulling me out from under the canopy and into the deluge.
We were laughing for no reason at all as we tumbled like children into his blissfully dry car. He shook the raindrops from his hair and switched on the engine to clear the windows. The world outside had disappeared behind a cloak of condensation. We could have been anywhere at that moment – and wherever it was, it felt like I’d been there before.
We turned towards each other in the steamy car, and it took only a single glance to know I wasn’t the only one experiencing this curious moment of déjà vu. We both spoke at once, as though the silence was a dangerous hole that had to be plugged.
‘Do you want to put some music on while we wait?’ he asked, flipping open a hidden cavity in the console and revealing a stash of old-school CD cases.
I glanced down at the collection, which was illuminated by a yellow pool of light from a nearby street lamp. They all appeared to be country music, which wasn’t my favourite genre; an instinct I was fast learning to trust told me it wasn’t Alex’s either.
‘Why don’t I find us something on the radio?’ I suggested. For a split second he looked disappointed, as though I’d failed a test.
I twiddled the dials until I found a station playing soft, easy-listening jazz. He gave a small nod of approval as Etta James’s soulful voice filled the car, telling us that at last her love ‘had come along’. In hindsight, a song full of yee-haws might have been preferable.
After that slightly awkward start, Alex steered our conversation onto safer ground. His humour was dry and sharp, but never unkind. He was the sort of person who’d never forget or fluff the punchline of a joke, and I was laughing for most of the journey back to my house. By the time he pulled up outside, we’d happily regained the gentle banter that had made it so easy to continue writing to him all those months earlier. Perhaps that was why, instead of politely thanking him for the lift, I heard myself asking if he’d like to come in for coffee.
He hesitated, which made me wonder if it was too late to rescind the invitation. Was this a really bad idea?
‘But maybe you need to pick up Connor?’ I asked, knowing perfectly well that his son was spending the night at Dee’s house. I’d given Alex a very easy escape route, but he chose not to take it.
‘No. I’m not collecting him until the morning.’ If there was a battle going on within him, it was very short-lived. ‘I’d love a coffee, Molly.’
‘Please excuse the mess,’ I said, letting us into the hallway and quickly shoving aside a pair of trainers and a sports bag that I’d dumped at the foot of the stairs.
Alex followed me into the kitchen, smiling as I threw things willy-nilly into cupboards in an attempt to straighten up the room. Unlike Tom, Alex seemed to find my congenital untidiness curiously endearing.
‘Do you think you’ll remember you tossed the cornflakes packet into the broom cupboard when you’re looking for it in the morning?’ he teased, bringing the easy banter from the car right there into the kitchen with us.
‘Probably not,’ I replied with a grin, turning to fill the kettle.
Tom used to warn me that I’d live to regret my untidiness, but he couldn’t have imagined it would be in quite this way. In a room with so many half-closed drawers and cupboards, it was Sod’s Law that one of them would be the place where I kept my meds. Alex saw the collection of pill packets – I could tell from the clouding in his eyes and the spasm of emotion that crossed his face. I shut the cupboard door fast, but the ghost of Lisa had joined us.
She disappeared briefly when we moved into the lounge, which was thankfully tidy enough to look lived-in rather than messy. ‘Make yourself comfortable,’ I urged, kicking off my shoes and giving a sigh of relief that made him smile knowingly.
He ignored my invitation as he stood before my floor-to-ceiling bookcase. His eyes ran across the eclectic mix of titles, as though doing a forensic character assessment. I wished him luck with that. The shelves were packed so tightly, I now had books lying sideways on every row. I’d always loved to read, but books had become more than entertainment when I’d been too sick to live my own life; they’d become my passport into other lives, other places.
His hand reached for one of them, and, too late to stop him, my breath caught uncomfortably in my throat. There was a look of shocked recognition on his face as he stared down at the volume in his hands. Shit. What sort of an idiot was I? Why on earth had I left the astronomy book his wife had collaborated on where he could find it? Because you never intended to ask him in? my conscience offered forgivingly.
No. That wasn’t good enough. It was as though I’d deliberately booby-trapped my bookcase with hidden weapons.
‘I’m sorry, Alex. I should have put that one away.’
He shook his head, his fingertips running over the embossed name of the woman he’d loved as though greeting her in Braille.
He turned to me, his eyes seemed to shimmer in the dimly lit room. ‘Why do you have this?’
‘I… I was doing astronomy with my class. I thought I should learn a bit more about the subject.’
It was a lie so full of holes, I was surprised he didn’t call me on it. There were hundreds, maybe even thousands of more age-appropriate books on the topic. I’d read several of them. But the one written by Lisa had found its way onto my bookshelves for a wholly different reason. Could it be called stalking when the person you were secretly following was dead? And was it better or worse that their heart was the reason you were still alive?
‘She was writing one for kids, you know. She was only halfway through it when—’
His words drew me to my feet. Very gently I reached out, removed the book from his hand and slid it back onto the shelf.
There was a crack in his voice when he spoke. ‘I still miss her. Every single day, losing her gets worse instead of better.
’
I bit my lip, wanting to comfort him, to give him something to hold onto as he crested the dreadful tsunami of grief. It was a wave he kept riding, but somehow it never took him to the shore.
‘I get so scared sometimes that I’m going to forget – that Connor will forget – just how incredible she was.’
I shook my head vehemently. ‘That won’t ever happen. You won’t forget. The kind of love you shared doesn’t just die. It can’t.’ I wasn’t sure which of us I was trying to convince, and it wasn’t as if I was speaking from experience. As much as I’d felt for Tom, this kind of love was in an entirely different category.
What happened next was my fault, not Alex’s. It was my suggestion, not his. That doesn’t absolve either of us. But then I’d no idea my actions were going to need absolution.
‘Would you… Would you like to listen to it?’
My voice was a church-like whisper, but it brought his head up sharply, as though responding to a gunshot. He didn’t ask me to explain. He knew exactly what I meant.
He was several inches shorter than Mac but still tall enough that he needed to bend low to accept my offer. My legs were trembling when I stood before him, hands at my sides, as with something approaching reverence Alex lowered his head until his cheek rested against the wall of my chest.
The fabric of my dress was thin, and Lisa’s heart was obligingly thumping away with enough vigour to ensure he’d have no difficulty hearing it.
He gasped softly, his head pressing harder against me, as though he couldn’t get close enough. My left breast became a pillow as he laid his head against the heart he hadn’t heard beating for more than eight months.
To keep my balance, I’d moved my hands, resting them lightly on his shoulders, and at some point his hands had moved to either side of my waist. Did we stand like that for minutes or hours? I truly don’t know. I only realised he was crying when I felt the dampness of his tears on my dress. Instinctively I moved one hand from his shoulder to soothingly stroke the back of his head – the last in a long list of things I should never have done.