by Jane Green
He looked at Maggie with an amused smile on his face. “Yes, I am at a research lab in Hertfordshire, but I’m back to see some friends. I’ve still got mates here, and I needed a break. This is my pre-summer holiday.”
“Might be your summer holiday given what they’re paying you.” Rich nudged him as Ben rolled his eyes.
“I was going to say, it’s not very glamorous,” said Topher. “You could have chosen Ios or Majorca, and you came to Somerset? Is there something wrong with you?”
“First job out of uni. Just you wait,” he said. “Welcome to the real world.”
“Where are you staying?” Maggie finished her drink and placed the empty glass back on the table.
“With Rich on Queen Street.”
“Otherwise known as the drinking den,” laughed Rich.
“What does that mean?” Evvie frowned.
“Just that we’ve been doing some serious damage this weekend,” said Rich.
“Are you drunk already?” Evvie peered at them both.
“We handle our liquor brilliantly,” he said, turning to Ben as they toasted each other.
“I need Rich to keep me on my best behavior. As you once pointed out, I’m not always my best self when I’ve been drinking.” He stared at Maggie as the room seemed to drop away before her.
She was swept back to that night in the garden, to Ben asking who took care of her. She remembered the kiss that took her breath away, his disappearance, and her attempts to confront him afterward. Had he remembered more than he let on? If she didn’t pursue it now, she would never know. She took a deep breath. “We’re having a dinner later tonight at our place. You two should come by, have some drinks later on. If you feel like it . . .”
Evvie looked at Maggie in horror. “Maggie!”
“What? You love people dropping in!”
“Do you not want me to come?” said Ben, looking directly at Evvie, who looked away. He may have been nicer today than he ever was when she worked with him, but she still didn’t like him, and she definitely didn’t want him at their farewell dinner.
“No. I mean, it’s not that. This is our farewell dinner, the three of us. I don’t think anyone else should be there.”
“I didn’t say come to our farewell dinner. I said come by. For drinks. Maybe after,” Maggie said, remembering how her stomach had lurched with both the memory and the anticipation of something happening later that one evening she had spent with Evil Ben.
“We can’t. Unfortunately,” interjected Rich. “We have a party later on. The head of our department. Well, Ben’s old department, but still.”
“That sounds like fun,” Topher said sarcastically.
Ben frowned. “I’m sorry we can’t come. That’s a really generous invitation. Couldn’t we pop in?” He turned to Rich. “Just for a quick drink?”
“I don’t think we’re going to have time.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “It sounds like it would have been lovely. How are your parents?” he asked Maggie, who hadn’t thought he remembered meeting them.
“They’re good. Great. A bit sad I’m now moving to London, but my mum’s planning lots of trips up to see me.”
“London? So we’ll be near each other? I should give you my number. There are West Country get-togethers every now and then at a pub in Elephant and Castle.”
“That would be great.” Maggie’s smile was so wide, it was almost painful.
“Any idea where you’ll be living?”
“Westbourne Grove. I’ve got a job in corporate PR. I’ve just got to find roommates.”
“Nice.” He whistled. “That sounds cushy. Maybe you’ll buy me dinner sometime? Can I get you all another drink?”
“That sounds lovely,” said Maggie, who was gazing at Evil Ben with pure adoration as Evvie nudged her.
“We’ve probably got to get going,” said Evvie, ignoring Maggie’s quick glare at her. “We’ve got dinner to get ready and a house to finish packing up.”
“We can stay for another drink,” Maggie said.
“We really can’t.” Evvie downed her drink as Topher frowned. “Nice to talk to you both, and I hope you enjoy your time here. Come on.” She stood over Maggie, who sighed reluctantly before following Evvie and Topher out, turning to give a final wave to Evil Ben.
“Why did you do that?” hissed Maggie as soon as they were outside. “Things were just getting good.”
“Because he was drunk, Maggie.” Evvie sighed. “Which means something probably would have happened between the two of you, just like last time, and he would once again ignore you tomorrow. All of which is largely irrelevant because this is our farewell dinner. This isn’t about other people, not even people we’ve had crushes on before. We’re going to prepare a beautiful dinner, and we’re going to spend time together. The last thing I’m going to do is let you get off with a drunk Evil Ben just because you think it’s the last time you’ll ever see him.”
“It’s not the last time she’ll ever see him,” said Topher, holding up a piece of paper in his fingers. “I’ve got his number for Maggie. For the record, I agree with Evvie. I know you’re bummed, but let’s go back and enjoy this final dinner together.”
“I can’t just phone him when I’m in London,” said Maggie, pouting like a child. “That was probably my last opportunity.”
“Of course you can phone him. He wanted you to have his number, remember? There’ll be a get-together for some West Country people and you’ll call him and say you suddenly remembered he was there, and maybe he’d like to meet up beforehand, and then you’ll fall into bed and live happily ever after.”
“I wish,” said Maggie, although it brought a smile to her face. “Evvie, he is nice, isn’t he? Didn’t you see another side of him today? He even apologized to you.”
“Kinda, sorta. But not really. I mean, I definitely see what you see when he smiles. He looks less like a robot and more like a human being, and he is kind of cute, but honestly? I still think he’s a bit of an ass. I could tell they’d been drinking as soon as they joined us. I get the whole drinking thing when you’re a student, but he’s graduated. I felt like he hadn’t grown up.”
“That’s not fair. Of course he’s going to drink when he’s back at his old stomping ground,” said Maggie. “I suppose that means you won’t be bridesmaid at our wedding?”
Evvie started laughing. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll have managed to get over it by then. Let’s go to Tesco and get whatever we need for tonight.”
“Will you actually eat tonight?” Maggie asked pointedly, aware that Evvie’s extreme slimness was mostly because she barely ate these days.
“Yes,” said Evvie, and it was true. She had already decided that she owed herself one last blowout meal with her best friends. She didn’t want to take two bites and push the rest of the food around on her plate like she always did. She wanted to relish the food, enjoy the dessert, and get back on track tomorrow. So she wouldn’t take the third pill today, which meant she would finally have an appetite again. “Just watch me,” she said, and grinned.
“Okay. You’re right. Nothing was going to happen tonight anyway. I’m sorry I was sulking. I’ve got food to cook and a table to set. And my friends are much more important than any man could ever hope to be.” She extended her arms then, linking with Topher and Evvie, and they walked down the street, three wide, singing old Joni Mitchell songs very loudly until they reached Tesco.
* * *
• • •
That night, wine was drunk, tequila shots were knocked back, beef Wellington was consumed, and the pavlova demolished. They all got a little bit tipsy and, finally, after an evening of stories and reminiscing, a little bit weepy.
“I really love you guys,” said Topher, his eyes misting up. “I can’t believe I’m going back to the States so soon and I’m not going to be s
eeing you every day.”
“I can’t bear it,” said Maggie. “Can we all plan to spend Christmas together, or maybe go on holiday together at the end of this summer?”
“Topher and I will be in New York,” said Evvie, who was going to be the last to leave town, and still wasn’t prepared to be there by herself, if only for a week. “God only knows whether we’ll get vacation time. Maybe you could come and stay with us?”
“I’m not staying in your model house. Being intimidated by all the gorgeous women? No thanks.” Maggie snorted. “I’ll stay with Topher.”
“What are we all going to do without each other?” said Evvie. “Seriously.”
“We have our lives to live,” said Topher. “Maybe we’ll be movie stars, or supermodels, philanthropists, newspaper editors, or PR gurus. Maybe we’ll find the loves of our lives. Maybe you two will get married, have kids, and maybe I’ll end up in the UK. Whatever we do and wherever our careers take us, the only thing I know for sure is that I love you two and we’re going to be best friends forever, no matter how far apart we are from each other. Deal?”
“Deal!” said Maggie, wiping drunken tears from her eyes. “I don’t want it to end. I wish it could be the three of us just like this, forever. Wouldn’t that be amazing? Evvie, you and I could open a restaurant. Cakes and Jamaican food!”
“I love it!” said Evvie. “One day, let’s make it happen!”
They cleared the table, all three of them weaving slightly, occasionally stopping to put an arm around a waist, or kiss a cheek. Evvie left to go to the bathroom, and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked beautiful, her cheekbones more pronounced than they had ever been, but then she looked down at her stomach, which was distended, and painful.
She had eaten so much. The pills had somehow fooled her brain into thinking that it wasn’t the pills but that Evvie had somehow changed, that her need for food had miraculously disappeared. Tonight she thought she could indulge like a normal person, but nothing about the way she ate was normal. When she took the pavlova into the kitchen, leaving Maggie and Topher sitting at the table, she quickly and quietly shoveled half of what was left into her mouth, not even tasting it. And she was already full, long before the pavlova had even been served.
She thought of that now, as she looked in the mirror, that old familiar shame washing over her. It wasn’t too late to get rid of it, she thought, looking at the toilet bowl. She’d made herself throw up before, when she had overeaten, and as long as it didn’t become a habit, it would be fine.
She knelt on the rug and pushed a finger down her throat, then two. It wasn’t nearly as easy as people made it sound, but eventually the pavlova came up, and the beef Wellington, and when she had done as much as she thought she would be able to do, she stood up and flushed, noting how her stomach was already flatter.
Much better, she thought.
But I’m not going to do it again.
twelve
- 1989 -
Evvie was in a furious mood. The modeling agency had messed up her travel dates, and she wasn’t leaving this Monday, but the next. The simple thing to do, as far as Evvie was concerned, was to change the flight and put her up in New York. She could see old friends, revisit some old haunts, and, if she was very lucky, stay at a swanky hotel.
But the agency disagreed. The flights were unchangeable, they said, before offering to put her up in a hotel. Evvie could have gone to London—her mother was in Jamaica to visit family, so it was just her grandmother—but Evvie couldn’t think of anything more depressing than staying alone in London with no one young around.
It was Maggie’s idea to get them to pay for her to stay at the Dinham Arms.
“It’s gorgeous!” she kept saying. “You can use the spa all week and get them to pay for it. Bliss!”
Evvie agreed. If she was forced to stay in the UK for an extra week, why not let it be in the West Country, in full-on luxury at their expense.
She didn’t tell her grandmother, who would have been devastated. Her grandmother would have wanted her safely at home in Stockwell, eating the kinds of food from her childhood that would ensure she arrived in New York several pounds heavier. Her grandmother would have taken one look at her, sucked her teeth, and declared her “crawny,” before cooking up a feast of goat curry, saltfish, and bakes, all the food Evvie had never been able to resist. Other people could indulge for a day or so, and gain a couple of pounds that they shed with no trouble. Not Evvie. Evvie could easily gain ten pounds in a week. She knew it because she’d done it before. Several times. Now that she was embarking on a modeling career, that was something she definitely couldn’t afford.
Far better for her to stay here, which now felt more like home than anywhere she had ever lived, even though the town had emptied out of students, she and Maggie feeling like the only ones left.
Maggie came with Evvie to the post office to ship her boxes to New York, and then, armed with one suitcase, she and Maggie took off for the Dinham Arms.
“I actually can’t believe they’re paying for you to stay here a week. All expenses! You are totally raiding the minibar,” said Maggie, helping to haul the suitcase up the steps. “I’m longing to see the room. Apparently they have four-poster beds that are to die for.”
“I wish you could stay too.” Evvie had been trying to persuade her for the past two hours, but Maggie was flying straight to the South of France where her parents had a home in Mougins, high in the hills above Cannes. As tempting as the Dinham Arms was, the West Country could never compete with the Côte d’Azur.
The girls had eaten in the restaurant of the Dinham Arms but had never been farther than the foyer. They followed the young woman from reception up the stairs, their feet sinking into soft carpet, down a long corridor with oriel windows overlooking English gardens with clipped boxwood hedges and Gertrude Jekyll–designed beds, stopping outside a heavy wooden door.
“I’ve upgraded you to a suite,” the woman said with a smile. “The only room we had available was unrenovated. I hope you like it.” She opened the door with a flourish as Maggie and Evvie looked at each other with wide eyes, Evvie stepping in first, pretending to be nonchalant, as if she stayed at hotels like this all the time, as if upgrades were part of her life experience.
She couldn’t keep up the pretense for long, for it was the most beautiful room she had ever seen.
The Dinham Arms was a former coaching inn, bought by a wealthy local couple and transformed into a luxury Relais and Châteaux a few years previously. The students whose parents could afford it had all eaten their famous Sunday lunch in the old beamed restaurant, complete with a dessert cart that was wheeled around to each table.
But the suite! Evvie had never seen anything so luxurious. A vast four-poster bed, so high there were mahogany footstools on either side to enable guests to climb in, yards of sumptuous pomegranate-printed fabric draping over the top and down the sides, and pillows piled high.
“This is amazing,” breathed Evvie, her smile almost cracking her face. “Thank you so, so much!”
“Bugger the South of France,” squealed Maggie, climbing onto the bed as soon as the receptionist left. “Oh my God. I’m staying here forever.” She sank back into the pillows and disappeared as Evvie walked around the bedroom, touching the glossy antique side tables, running her hands along the top of the sofa and marveling at the beauty of the fabric, before opening the door into a marble bathroom that was bigger than her bedroom at home, with an enormous tub that seemed to be a Jacuzzi, and a shower that seemed to double as a steam room.
“I feel like the princess and the pea,” shouted Maggie from the bedroom as Evvie unscrewed the caps on the tiny shampoos and conditioners, body washes, and bubble baths, smelling everything and swooning. “You have to climb into this bed. It’s insane.”
Evvie dutifully put the caps back on, and went back into the bedroom, climbing u
p the steps to the four-poster and sinking down next to Maggie.
“Are you still here?” asked Evvie, reaching out an arm and feeling for her friend. “This bed is so damn huge, I think I lost you.”
“What even is this?” said Maggie. “My parents have a king, but this thing is way bigger.”
“Maybe it’s a California king.”
“What’s that?”
“I have no idea. But I think it’s bigger. I can’t believe you don’t know, Maggie! You’re the expert on fancy hotels.”
Maggie rolled into the middle, her head on her elbow as she looked at her friend, frowning. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. You. Your life outside of the university. I love you, and I love that you come from a different world than me, so don’t pretend that you’re not used to this kind of luxury.”
Maggie shook her head. “I’m not from this kind of world. Don’t you know that by now? I mean, yes, we’re comfortable and we have a lovely country house, but everything’s falling apart inside. Seriously, the rugs are all completely threadbare, and in winter it’s so cold, you have to go to bed with a hot water bottle.”
“But you have stables! And horses!”
“Because my mother is always riding. Trust me, whatever money we have is so old, it’s practically disappeared.”
“Oh, come on, Maggie. You’re about to leave for your house in the South of France.”
“You’re right. I’m incredibly lucky, but our lifestyle isn’t nearly as luxurious as this! I know, I sound like a posh Yah, but my family is old-school. We don’t spend a penny unless we have to. Unless it’s for the horses or the dogs,” she mused. “Then there’s no limit. Oh, or a sheep.”