by Kit Eyre
It was meant to work both ways and it did. He sat in the armchair rocking Hannah back and forth until her cries trailed off into coos. Out in the corridor, three nurses were gossiping without any attempt to keep it hidden and other patients were peeking out of their doors. Max tried meeting Drew’s eye, but his cheeks were glowing so she looked to Elena instead.
‘I don’t get how she even knew you were here,’ she said.
‘Maybe Amy told her,’ Elena suggested.
‘No, they’re not speaking at the minute. I’m sorry.’
Drew growled. ‘Doesn’t change it.’
Max rocked back on her heels, sneaking a glance at the grizzling baby in his arms. The phone pictures last night hadn’t shown the way Hannah’s fingers curled around the hem of her blanket or how her tiny eyelids fluttered open and shut. Now she’d settled, Max could appreciate how beautiful she was, only the screaming that had greeted them before wouldn’t stop ringing in her ears.
‘I’m sorry,’ she muttered.
‘Deal with it then,’ replied Drew.
She nodded and backed out into the corridor. ‘I will.’
All the patient rooms were marked with labels, but there was a visitor lounge off near the waiting room and a flash of blonde hair caught Max’s attention as she walked past. Valerie was in there, framed through the porthole, Foster with her. He was pacing around, rolling his shirt sleeves down as if he’d delivered a baby not five minutes ago instead of just causing merry hell for a newborn. As Max watched, he stopped fidgeting and twisted towards Valerie. His arms slipped around her waist as he leaned in for a kiss that wasn’t solicited but sure as hell wasn’t rejected. It was all Max could do to keep herself upright, though her knee cracked against the door frame and the two of them sprang apart.
Foster darted forward and yanked the door open. ‘Excuse me, this is private.’
Behind him, Valerie’s mouth was working like a goldfish’s.
‘If you’ve got some sort of problem with our meet and greet, put it in writing,’ Foster continued. ‘We haven’t done anything wrong, there’s nothing to get worked up about.’
Max inhaled and the stench of his sweat lodged in her nostrils. She looked past him to Valerie’s rigid figure, focusing on her pale eyes.
‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘We’re done here.’
Valerie’s jaw clenched, but she said nothing.
‘Good,’ Foster replied, wafting her away. ‘Off you go then.’
Max didn’t need telling twice. Her feet took her straight past the reception desk where the nurse buzzed her out without a word then she lurched into the same stairwell as last year. She was halfway down the stairs before an arm yanked her back up and it took prising the fingers off one-by-one to get Valerie’s claws out of her.
‘I’m sorry, Max. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean –’
‘How did you know they were here?’
Valerie blinked. ‘I was called this morning by the local paper, telling me that my friend, Elena, was in hospital and asking whether I’d be visiting. I was with J-John at the time and he suggested that –’
‘You were with him?’
‘Not that way,’ Valerie insisted, shaking her head. ‘Never that way. It’s always been platonic with John – always. I wouldn’t do that to do. Please, Max, you have to believe that. But, look, you must’ve used my name as currency last night or –’
‘I didn’t,’ she interrupted. ‘Amy did.’
Valerie’s mouth snapped shut, just long enough for Max to realise something.
‘You haven’t been home since last night,’ she said.
‘W-what?’
‘You haven’t been home. You wouldn’t have risked doing this if you had so that means you were with him.’
‘No, Max, it was separate rooms, I promise. You can see my credit card statement if . . .’ Valerie trailed off and a frown flickered over her face. ‘What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I have risked it if I’d been home?’
‘I got a message from Amy last night,’ Max explained, somehow keeping her voice level. ‘She’s trashed the study and left your papers – your articles – all over the kitchen floor. You’d have known if you hadn’t been with him.’
Valerie’s whole body quivered. She looked up and down the stairwell then inched closer.
‘I wasn’t going to use them,’ she said.
Max sniggered.
‘No, listen, I was just getting the arguments straight in my head. I would never have published them. I promise. I wouldn’t –’
‘What – use us? Use Amy? The one where you called this – you and me – a lifestyle, that wasn’t the one she was upset about most. It was the lies about her dad that really got to her.’
Valerie reached a hand out to the banister and steadied herself. Nothing about her screamed high-flying politician now. Even the suit just looked like it was hanging off a cracked porcelain doll that had the last of its colour draining away. She clung to the banister then raised herself up.
‘I can’t believe she told you after all this time.’
‘She was trying to do me a favour,’ Max said with a grim chuckle. ‘But I still wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to do anything daft so I was thinking about it. All that crap you spouted at the beginning – about me not running off – I’d listened. Well done, you’d got it through my thick skull.’
‘Max, you’re not –’
‘Then you turn up with him and pull a stunt like that? No, I’m done. I’m out.’
Valerie groped for her elbow. ‘You don’t get to do this to me. Three weeks to the election – you can’t force me to choose, not now.’
‘You never would’ve,’ Max said as she shook her off and carried on down the staircase. ‘So, I’ll make it easy and you can just tell yourself I walked. Problem solved.’
Chapter 28
‘Pass the salt, dear.’
‘Hmm?’
‘The salt,’ Biddy repeated. ‘Honestly, you’ve been miles away all evening.’
Amy roused herself long enough to pass the shaker over then she speared more asparagus onto her fork and continued with the mechanics of eating. She managed to tune out Biddy’s chatter across the table, concentrating instead on the worries that had been festering all last night and through today too.
‘What do you think of lavender?’
‘Erm . . .’ Amy looked up and shrugged. ‘I don’t really know.’
Biddy’s brow furrowed. ‘You haven’t been listening to me, have you?’
‘Of course I have. You were talking about the garden.’
‘You would only have had to listen to one word in twenty minutes to work that out. What’s wrong? Is something amiss with your revision?’
Amy straightened her cutlery. ‘It’s fine. Do you want ice cream?’
‘I haven’t finished my chicken yet.’
For the next three and a half minutes, Amy did her best to concentrate. She offered her unbiased and ignorant opinion on lavender and jasmine, plus the quality of the asparagus, and was answering a question about soil consistency when the doorbell rang. Her stomach dropped as Biddy’s chin lifted.
‘Are you expecting someone?’ she queried.
Amy stood, nearly tripping over the chair leg. ‘I think Mum said she might be passing. Just passing, not coming in. I’ll go see. You stay here.’
She was gone before Biddy could object. Fear of being followed took her straight to the door, but she regretted the haste when she encountered Valerie on the doorstep. It was as though she’d been stripped down and reassembled into the woman she’d been over a year ago. Her cherry blouse had three buttons open instead of one, exposing the trim of her matching bra, and she held herself differently. Even her expression was glazed.
‘Let’s step into the car, shall we?’ she suggested. ‘We don’t want to impose on Clarice. I assume you’ve just eaten.’
Amy pulled the door to, her stomach already whirring. Each step she took towards the Mercede
s idle at the end of the drive just made it worse. She already knew whose car it was, even before a stubby man in a grey suit slipped out of the driver’s seat. He touched Valerie’s arm and murmured that he’d give them a minute before walking to the gate without sparing Amy a glance.
‘So, you’ve been seeing him all along, have you?’ she asked.
Valerie opened the rear door. ‘Get in.’
More to keep it away from Biddy than anything else, she followed the order and shuffled to the furthest tip of the seat. She watched as Valerie smoothed down her skirt and slid into the car as though photographers were lurking nearby. Then she eased the door closed and left them in semi-darkness, illuminated only by the external lights flickering through the trees.
‘You didn’t answer my question,’ Amy said. ‘Have you been sleeping with him the whole time?’
‘No, I haven’t.’
‘Then what the hell is he doing here?’
Valerie clasped her hands together on her lap. ‘We’re making things a little more regular. An official relationship, I suppose you’d call it.’
‘You’ve already got one of those or had you forgotten? She’s tall, short hair, bit clumsy –’
‘It’s over,’ Valerie interjected. ‘Max finished with me this afternoon. So, there. I’m not the big bad wolf in all of this. She broke up with me.’
Amy slumped against the side door, the words still echoing around the car.
‘That can’t be the whole story,’ she muttered.
‘Yes, well . . . The whys and wherefores don’t mean anything. It’s done now.’
Valerie’s voice was clipped, detached from any sort of reality. Amy recognised the symptoms from the year following Tim’s death, from the glassy eyes right down to the robotic twitch of her fingertips against her skirt.
‘She told you about the articles,’ Amy said finally.
Valerie stared blankly ahead. ‘That was politics.’
‘Like hell it was. You were pushing your luck, weren’t you? Seeing how far you could go?’
‘Rather like you utilising my name to gain you access to the hospital last night, hmm? If you’re seeking to apportion blame here, you might start by looking in the mirror. None of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t encouraged Max to read those articles and if you hadn’t used my name as currency last night. We wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for you.’
Amy gaped at her. ‘Excuse me?’
‘I warned you not to jeopardise it, didn’t I?’ Valerie snapped, twisting to face her for the first time. ‘A few more weeks, that was all I needed, and yet you took the unilateral decision to light a match under the whole thing. Why did you tell her everything, hmm? Why now?’
‘You’re not seriously blaming me,’ Amy whispered. ‘You – you can’t.’
Valerie held her gaze. ‘Make it up to me. Stay away from her.’
‘Now I know you’re delusional because I’m not doing that,’ she replied.
‘It’s impractical, Amy. Sure, you might’ve got attached to her, but it won’t work. The relationship you have with her is based solely on mine. They can’t exist separately of one another.’
‘That didn’t apply when you were hiding her from me.’
‘Don’t be facetious.’
‘Oh, I’m not, believe me. Come on, Mum. Make me choose. Ask me! Go on – ask me.’
Valerie licked her lips. ‘Be careful, Amy. Do you really believe Clarice would tolerate your choice of friends?’
‘Do you honestly want to open that can of worms?’ she shot back.
‘Just be realistic for a moment. You might want to sever contact with me right this minute, but Clarice wouldn’t understand that either and I won’t accept it.’
Amy launched the door open and a rush of air ruffled through the car. ‘Push me then, go on. You’ve still got three weeks to the election, remember. It might be better for your career if you just back off and leave me alone. I mean, isn’t the worst thing I could do right now to leak your relationship with Max to the papers?’
‘You wouldn’t do that,’ Valerie murmured.
Amy’s legs were trembled as she slipped out of the car. ‘Try me.’
‘What did she do?’
Max winced as she barged into the back room. ‘You want a cuppa?’
‘Don’t dodge it,’ Amy insisted, crossing her arms. ‘I’ve been wondering all night. I’ve got a right to know what’s going on, but she won’t tell me.’
That was the golden ticket. Max nodded then reached to switch off the volume on the switchboard as a call came in. The trilling faded into a dull burr and Max clamped her knees together, staring at the carpet.
‘It must’ve been that nurse on reception. I mean, it’s not normally a scoop, but maybe she reckoned it was. Friend of woman who’s odds-on to win in the General Election and all that. Well, she must’ve called the local paper first thing, either that or she talked to someone who did. So, your mum hears and because she’s with – with Foster, they decide to go see Elena for a bit of publicity. Me and Drew walked in to find them there with a camera crew and Hannah screaming her head off.’
Amy’s lips parted. ‘No way.’
‘Gets better,’ Max muttered with a grim smile. ‘I went after her to ask what the hell she was playing at and there she was kissing that . . . You were right about them. God knows how long it’s been going on.’
‘I didn’t want to be right.’ Amy dug her fingers into her eyes, trying to stop them burning. ‘It was my fault, wasn’t it? If I hadn’t shown you those articles or – or mentioned her at the –’
‘Where’s this coming from? Hang on, has she said something? Is she blaming you?’
The fear that had been percolating in her stomach since last night evaporated at the fierce expression on Max’s face. Amy’s shoulders relaxed and she sucked in a deep breath.
‘She came to see me at Biddy’s last night. She was with him.’
Max snickered. ‘What did she say to you?’
‘That – that I’d been the one to mess it up,’ she answered slowly. ‘And that if I wanted to blame someone . . .’
‘That’s bullshit, you know it is,’ Max said.
‘I know, I know.’ Amy paused and watched her. ‘She said to stay away from you, that we can’t be friends if you’re not with her.’
Max kicked her heel back against the chair. ‘That’s for her benefit, not yours. But, you know, if you reckon it’s –’
‘No,’ she interjected.
‘I’m just saying –’
‘And I’m saying no,’ Amy interrupted in a voice they both recognised. ‘So, let’s just leave it at that, okay? I’ve already lost my dad. I’m not losing you as well.’
Chapter 29
‘You must have stuff round there, right?’
Max didn’t have to stretch to work out what he was going on about. For someone who was meant to be off on paternity leave, Drew had spent a hell of a lot of time lounging around on the office sofa bitching about Valerie in the last week. It was open season now they’d broken up, though she could do without the constant reminders that she’d been dumped by a woman whose face was plastered over every other lamppost in town.
‘Stop coughing doughnuts all over my floor,’ she said as she lobbed a kitchen roll at his head. ‘Go on, go home and let Hannah puke on you.’
He launched the kitchen roll onto the sofa. ‘Elena wanted rid of me for an hour.’
‘Then go down the pub and wet the baby’s head again. You’re in the way here.’
‘You’ve got to have stuff round there, that’s all I’m saying. You didn’t move in, but it was as good as. What with stopovers and meals and all that. She had you on call practically.’
Max tapped on the switchboard. ‘Bits and pieces. Few clothes, DVDs, spare phone charger. Nothing I can’t live without.’
‘Till when?’
‘Till Amy’s calmed down a bit,’ she said with a shrug. ‘Then I’ll get her
to stick it all in a bag for me. She’s got to go back, she’s got stuff round there herself.’
‘Sounds like a cop-out to me. You’ve got a key. Go round there yourself and get it sorted. Unless you’re holding off for a reason.’
‘It’s not like that.’
‘What, then?’
‘I don’t fancy seeing her, that’s all. With the election, she’s keeping funny hours. I don’t know when she’ll be there and not.’
That shut him up long enough for the switchboard to ring and she grabbed at the call. By the time she’d dispatched the driver, he’d gobbled through another doughnut and was licking between his fingers one by one.
‘What time do you finish?’ he asked.
‘Six. Look, Drew, use the sodding sink and not your tongue, all right? You’re worse than Hannah.’
‘Six? We’ll go together then.’
She snorted. ‘No way.’
‘Why not? If you’re worked up about seeing her, I’ll be there. And if Foster’s –’
‘Drew, give it a rest,’ she snapped.
He scowled and hauled himself off the sofa. ‘Do it for me then. Elena’s convinced you had nothing to do with what went on. Prove it.’
Even if Drew wasn’t tagging along like some pissed colt, letting herself into Geith Place like this wouldn’t have felt right. Neither Valerie’s BMW or the fancy car that Foster probably drove were around the drive or in the garage, but Max’s scalp still prickled as she walked over the threshold. That wasn’t helped by Drew leaning forward to stroke the wallpaper.
‘Bloody hell, no wonder you were hanging on. Maybe you could sue her or something.’
She closed the door. ‘I’m not suing her.’
‘Maybe we should, Elena and me.’
‘Amy, remember,’ Max reminded him. ‘Don’t touch anything. I’m off to get my clothes.’
All she caught as he wandered off towards the kitchen was a snicker. She took the stairs two at a time, still listening out for someone else being around, but she stopped thinking when she pushed open the bedroom door.
Nothing in here seemed different. The curtains were still open at the same angle and the white sheets were flush against the mattress. It didn’t look like anything had been moved. One sniff brought Valerie’s perfume back to her nostrils, but a second one brought something sour with it – something male. Max pressed her arm over her nose then started dragging her things from the wardrobe.