Playing by the Rules

by Rosa Temple

  ‘No, I’m not leaving Anthony,’ I said to Lena. ‘I mean I’m not leaving the company, Lena. I can do this. I’m not about to make a fool of myself over him.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure,’ she said. ‘I just hope you have the strength it takes.’ I hoped so, too. ‘So. Back to me,’ said Lena. ‘How do I get that parasitic ex-boyfriend of mine out of my house?’

  We talked well into the afternoon about Lena’s ex-boyfriend. All I could come up with was to throw his remaining property out onto the front garden. I’d suggested it several times in the past but Lena never went for the idea, clinging on to larger items of his as if they were chained to her flat. It was clear she loved the drama more than she loved the idea of her freedom. She must still love him, too, despite what she said. Letting go of someone you love because the situation wasn’t right wasn’t an easy thing to do.

  I left Lena after I’d eaten a bagel and just as she got a call from her ex, asking her to bring back some milk. I made my way back home still feeling mixed up emotionally and was shocked to see a familiar figure standing at the foot of the steps leading up to the front door.

  ‘Father?’ I kissed him on the cheek. It was cold. ‘How long have you been here?’

  ‘A while.’ Father gave me a cosy ‘Daddy hug’ and patted my hair down as he always did whenever it looked wild, which was most of the time.

  ‘Is Mother okay?’ I asked stopping in my tracks.

  ‘As far as I know. Why would you ask that? I’ve come to see how you are.’

  ‘But why? You’d normally phone. Oh my God.’ I put my hands on Father’s chest. ‘You’re going to marry Suma.’

  Father laughed and mounted the steps to the front door of the Georgian house. I followed in a puppet-like fashion.

  ‘Aren’t you going to unlock the door, Magenta?’ he said quite casually.

  ‘Aren’t you going to tell me what all this is about?’

  I opened the door and we went up to my top-floor flat. Two professional couples, a doctor and I occupied the house, which consisted of four flats in all. The sound of professional couples doing weekend things was evident: music playing, occasional laughter and barely audible DIY coming from Sandy and James from the flat below mine.

  ‘Come in, Father,’ I said as we entered my flat. ‘I’m worried. Just come right out with it. Are you going to marry Suma? Is she pregnant?’

  A broad grin spread across Father’s face and then he laughed.

  ‘It’s not funny,’ I said sinking into my protective red sofa. Father sat on the only armchair in the room.

  ‘What’s funny is how you come to that conclusion, Magenta. If you’d been in touch like all your other sisters you’d know Suma walked out weeks ago. But I know you’ve been busy at work so I’m not telling you off or anything.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Father. I think … I mean, how is Mother taking it?’

  ‘She never stopped laughing.’

  I grinned.

  ‘It’s not funny,’ he said. ‘I’m not here for you to laugh at me. I just wanted you to know that there’s someone else. Well at least I think there is. She blows hot and cold. One minute it’s on; the next it’s off again.’

  ‘Where are you now?’

  ‘Off.’

  More relationship problems. I couldn’t believe how messed up everyone was – including me. But the last thing I wanted to do was talk about my father’s over-sixty love life, especially since I wasn’t having any kind of love life of my own.

  ‘Never mind, Father. Perhaps she’ll come round.’ The temptation was there to tell him he should try fixing things between him and Mother but I resisted. It seemed like I was the only one in the whole family who wanted that to happen though I knew that sooner or later I’d have to give up my little girl’s wish for her parents to reunite – it would never happen.

  I had felt sorry for myself since Father walked out on us. I felt like I should put on a curly red wig and sing, ‘It’s A Hard Knock Life’ but, as Ebony pointed out, I wasn’t an orphan, I’d moved out of home and I should let my parents get on with their lives. It hurt that they weren’t together and I hated that Father was seeing other women.

  I spent a wonderful afternoon with Father, just catching up. He left a little while later leaving me to ponder on two things: firstly at how he and Anya had managed a high level of secrecy surrounding the loves in their lives, and secondly how strange it was that everyone I knew had worked out I had a crush on Anthony. My sisters, Anya, Cassandra, even Inez had her suspicions I imagined. Now I had to work out if Anthony suspected anything and I also had to work out how to cover it up and pretend it wasn’t there.

  Chapter 15

  On Monday morning I was in operation Forget About Getting Off With Anthony mode. Anthony had obviously been in celebratory mode all weekend as there’d been a delivery of flowers from him to me first thing in the morning. My office smelled divine and the flowers came prearranged in a large glass vase. An arrangement made up mostly of lilies was on my desk and was probably the reason Cassandra had looked so glum when I arrived.

  I read the card:

  To Magenta, my dynamo PA. Thank you for all your hard work and commitment. Anthony

  That was it. No hearts or kisses. Just an officious note from a boss to his PA. I turned it over to see if it said anything else, something more personal he could have told the shop to add when Inez was out of earshot, perhaps. I searched the vase for a further note but there wasn’t one. I put on a fake smile to hide my disappointment even though I felt it and even though I’d failed step one of operation Forget About Getting Off With Anthony.

  ‘Hey, you!’ And there he was.

  ‘Anthony.’ My fake smile stretched wider across my face. ‘These are so beautiful – but you didn’t have to do this.’

  ‘Of course I did.’ He came in to inspect them and inhaled. ‘I had to do something to show how thankful I am for everything you did.’

  ‘We did,’ I said.

  ‘No, Magenta, it was all you.’

  A lingering pause followed and I was filled with that sense of confusion mixed with annoyance. I couldn’t believe he didn’t see how misleading a moment like that could be. What did he want me to do? To me it felt as if he wanted me to pull off his glasses and start snogging him. Or that he wanted to snog me.

  ‘I guess we need to follow up on all the leads and contacts from the other night,’ I said quickly while moving to the other side of my desk where I was safe – or where Anthony was safe from me.

  ‘We should,’ he agreed, taking off his glasses and blinking those large, brown eyes at me. ‘How should we do this?’ As usual, clueless. He wiped his glasses with his tie, put them back on and settled in the chair at the side of my desk so we could start our day. We’d often sit like this in one or other of our offices, thrashing out ideas, bouncing suggestions off each other, deciding who to seek advice from, going out to meetings with suppliers and designers and ordering Chinese food when the sessions went on late into the evening. On evenings like that, Inez called every fifteen minutes or so. One time Anthony had told her off and I was sure I heard crying from the other end of the line.

  ‘Should I order her some expensive chocolates or a diamond bracelet?’ I’d said to Anthony that night.

  ‘Whatever for?’ He’d looked quizzical, taking off his glasses and knotting his brow.

  ‘That’s what the boss tells the PA to do when his wife gets annoyed for being away from home for too long.’

  ‘She’s not my wife.’ His voice had been tight and clipped. My interpretation was that there was trouble in paradise and it was all I could do to stop myself feeling a little too pleased.

  ‘I’ll go and get us some coffee, and then we’ll start on those leads,’ I said to Anthony, getting up quickly and rushing to the kitchen.

  In resolving to abstain from responding to any feeling for Anthony it seemed to me as if I’d opened the floodgates of emotions and
I was battling to keep control. It was going to be a hard day and it was also going to be a very hard three hundred days if this one was anything to go by.

  I returned to the office to find Anthony’s chair a little closer to mine and to find that he’d removed his jacket and hooked it on the back of my door as if he was going to be in my office for some time.

  I kept my cool as we worked, following up on leads and counting how many orders had already started flooding in online.

  ‘This is going to be the making of this company, Magenta.’

  Just as Anthony said this, the phone rang. I assumed it was the buyer of a department store in Manchester we’d been waiting to hear back from and answered in my top PA voice.

  ‘Magenta?’ a soft, male voice said from the other end.

  ‘Yes, that’s right,’ I said and rolled my eyes comically to Anthony, as I’d already introduced myself as Magenta Bright, PA to Anthony Shearman.

  ‘You don’t know who this is, do you?’ said the voice.

  ‘I’m afraid not.’ I pulled another face at Anthony and he grinned and shook his head.

  ‘Magenta, it’s me, Hugo.’

  My face slowly melted from the daft one I was pulling at Anthony and froze into something resembling both shock and disbelief. Anthony’s face said, Are you all right?

  ‘Are you still there?’ Hugo asked.

  ‘Yes, yes I’m here. Could you hang on?’

  ‘After all this time I’m sure a few seconds wouldn’t hurt,’ Hugo said.

  I covered the mouthpiece. ‘Anthony, this isn’t business. I have to take it. Do you mind?’ I flicked my eyes to the door.

  ‘Of course.’ He stood, unhooked his jacket from the back of my door. Looking back at me he gave a half-smile, searching my ridiculous expression for a clue as to who was on the other end of the line. All the time I was wondering how and why Hugo was on the other end. Was he in London?

  ‘Come through when you’re done,’ Anthony said. I nodded and he closed the door behind him.

  ‘Hugo. I’m back. My God. I mean. You’re the last person I was expecting to hear from. Not that I’m not happy, it’s just that, well, I’m in shock. Hugo, ten years. What …? Why now?’

  ‘First of all, let me say, it’s so good to hear your voice.’

  ‘Really? Well you know I’ve always been on the other end of the phone line. I waited for you to call, Hugo. I waited like a … like …’

  ‘I know and I’m sorry. It was wrong of me not to call when I said I would.’

  ‘When you promised.’

  ‘I know. I don’t suppose you’ll forgive me for that but I had my reasons.’

  ‘You met and fell in love with someone else the next day?’

  ‘Magenta, it’s only ever been you. I went across the globe and back and I never met another girl like you.’

  I closed my eyes. I didn’t want Hugo to hear the deep gulp of air I took. I especially didn’t want him to hear the sound of thunder coming from my chest as my heart beat rapidly against my insides like it wanted to burst out. I noticed then that my eyes were streaming and I was blinking and wiping away tears. I certainly didn’t want to sound like I was crying.

  ‘Hugo, wait a minute. I need to just …’ I put the phone to my body and wiped vigorously at my eyes. Why was I crying so hard over Hugo? Ten years, Magenta, you idiot. Ten years. Haven’t you got over him by now?

  ‘Where are you, Hugo? Where did you get this number?’

  ‘I’m in the UK. I’m up in Cumbria at my parents’ house. I’m surprised I could even get reception on my phone out in the middle of nowhere.’

  ‘You could have used the landline.’ Why was I being practical when my mind and my heart were convulsing?

  ‘I couldn’t. I mean the house is like Grand Central Station at the moment. Strange, really, since this is a remote farm in the middle of the Cumbrian countryside.’

  ‘Have you packed in your travels to become a Cumbrian farmer? Why are you there?’

  He took a deep breath and I was expecting him to say something like: Oh I brought my wife and children over so they could visit their grandparents. Hugo was thirty-eight. Surely he’d given up his gypsy lifestyle and he’d settled down by now. I often wondered who he’d ended up with. Maybe he’d hooked up with a woman who loved the nomadic life. I always thought the answer to what happened to Hugo lay in the fact that he got some groupie pregnant during his tour and did none of the travelling he said he would do. Instead, he’d had to marry a groupie and every year they’d had another baby and every year he’d forgotten more and more that he’d said he loved me completely and that he would call.

  ‘I had to come back, Magenta. My mother died.’

  As sorry as I was to hear the news, the question preparing itself to leap out of my mouth was, ‘Did you bring your wife?’ but instead, I did what any person with a shred of decency would do. I offered my condolences.

  ‘So will you be going back to wherever you’ve been after the funeral?’ I asked.

  Hugo went quiet again before saying, ‘I’d like to stay. In fact, I want to come to London. I would love to see you.’

  The sentence hung there like an overripe apple waiting to be picked. If no one reached for it then it would have to drop of its own accord. I didn’t pluck; I just let the apple drop – with a thud.

  ‘Magenta, did you hear what I said?’ Hugo said after the thud subsided.

  ‘I heard you but I’m not so sure I …’

  There was a knock on the door and Anthony put his head around.

  ‘Sorry, Magenta. I thought I’d grab some lunch. Can I get you anything?’ Anthony looked at the way I quickly put my hand over the mouthpiece and nodded, curiously, towards the phone buried in my neck. ‘You okay? Want me to stay?’

  ‘No, Anthony. Grab lunch. I’ll pop out later. Sorry,’ I said holding the receiver up as if it served as an explanation to my red eyes and trembling lips. Anthony left again and I heard his slow steps on the marble staircase.

  ‘Hugo, sorry,’ I said.

  ‘It’s all right. I called you at work, I should imagine you’ll have to go, right?’

  ‘I will soon. But I’m not sure, Hugo. I’m not sure I can see you.’

  ‘I understand. I do. But I can’t help how I feel. You’re so close.’

  ‘But you didn’t come back for me.’ I swallowed. ‘Sorry, I don’t mean to disrespect your mother but you can’t turn up after ten years for something like a funeral and think you can fit seeing me into your visit before you leave again.’

  ‘I never said I was leaving.’

  ‘I just assumed –’

  ‘You assumed that because I made the biggest mistake of my life that I never once thought of you, that I never once wondered what had become of you, thought about how you were, who you were with and if you were in love, married, had children.’

  ‘If you wondered, if you ever thought of me, you knew where I was. You knew what university I went to and that I’d be there for the next three years. You had three years to locate me and you never did, Hugo, you never did.’ This time I could not disguise in my voice that I was crying. I let the words gush out like every one of the tears that fell onto my desk as I sat with the phone against my ear, an elbow on the desk and a hand clutching the front of my hair.

  ‘Please, Magenta,’ I could hear him say. ‘Please don’t cry. The funeral is on Friday. I can be in London on Saturday. Just say the word and I’ll come down.’

  I managed to stop crying and speak. After a last sweep of my hand against my face to dry my tears, I sniffed and cleared my throat.

  ‘Just stay away, Hugo. Just stay far, far away. It’s for the best.’

  I hung up the phone and I spun my chair away from my desk to face the wall. I closed my eyes tight shut, willing the phone not to ring. I couldn’t face another sound more from his mouth or I might have caved. I might have told him to come as soon as possible. Worse, I
might even have driven to Cumbria and joined him at the graveside. But I didn’t owe him that. I didn’t owe him anything.

  I swung back to look at the phone. It looked blankly back at me. It wasn’t about to ring. I put both my elbows on the table and stared and stared at it. It was only after a while that I realised Hugo hadn’t said how he’d tracked me down at Shearman. He had investigative powers after all. He could have turned up whenever he wanted to find me wherever I was. I wouldn’t have liked that any more than him calling me out of the blue without any warning whatsoever. I hated him. I hated how he made me feel. This was the man I fell in love with ten years ago. I thought I’d put up a resistance to him. I was sure I had. But if I’d succeeded in blocking out Hugo, why did I feel so godawful?

  The phone rang again. I froze. I couldn’t pick it up and just watched it as the ringing seemed to amplify in the room. The door opened.

  ‘You know that ringing thing on your desk?’ said Cassandra, standing in my doorway. ‘If you pick it up it stops. All you do is lift the receiver and speak.’

  I scowled at Cassandra.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I was walking past and didn’t think you were here. It’s your direct line so I was going to take a message for you.’

  I just sat staring at her. The phone stopped ringing.

  ‘You know you look dreadful?’ she continued.

  ‘I feel dreadful,’ I finally said. I stood up and gathered my bag and coat. ‘Could you tell Anthony I’ve had to go?’

  ‘You can tell him yourself.’ Anthony was at the door now with a large bag from Pret a Manger in his hand. ‘I decided I’d get us both lunch in the end.’

  We both stared at Cassandra. She put up both hands.

  ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I know when I’m not wanted.’ She left the room.

  ‘You were going to leave?’ Anthony said, walking to the desk and placing the bag of food onto it. ‘Something happen?’

  ‘You could say that.’

  ‘Boyfriend trouble?’

  My head snapped round to meet his gaze.