Impossible To Forget, page 19
‘Nope,’ she said. ‘Nothing here either.’
‘That’s unusual,’ said Maggie. ‘Becky is generally so fastidious about these things.’
‘Anal, you mean,’ replied Angie. ‘No offence,’ she added quickly.
Maggie didn’t take offence any more. Angie had always struggled to grasp that a life ordered beyond what she saw as reasonable was the very kind of life that Maggie prided herself on having. What Angie saw as anal, Maggie considered to be just good planning.
So, Maggie had then texted Leon, not mentioning the lack of a Christmas card per se, but asking after him and the family in a more general way.
A few moments later her phone had rung. It had been him.
‘Hi, Lee,’ she’d said. ‘And a merry Christmas to you. How’s it going?’
‘Oh, you know,’ he said. ‘It’s going. And how about you?’
‘I’m fine. No news.’ She could feel her cheeks burning but she wasn’t ready to tell him about what had happened. She wasn’t ready to tell anybody.
‘Life just ticks on really,’ she’d continued. ‘Well, races by at breakneck speed actually. How are we nearly fifty, for a start? I think I’m in denial. Doing anything nice for Christmas?’
There was a pause at the other end of the line and Maggie felt the atmosphere shift.
‘Actually, I’ll be on my own this year,’ he said. His voice had sounded thick all of a sudden, as if his throat had closed and was only allowing part of the sound out. ‘Becky and I, well, we split up in the summer.’
Maggie had been momentarily lost for words. What kind of a friend was she to have let this happen and not to have been there for Leon? She racked her brains, trying to think of the last time they had been in touch. Easter, maybe? Surely not that long ago, but then life had a habit of racing by. It could well have been six whole months since they last spoke. And in that time his marriage had collapsed.
It was sad, but it wasn’t really a surprise. Becky had never been quite right for Leon, in Maggie’s opinion at least, and she had seen tensions in their relationship over the years, but she had always assumed that they arose because Becky had never really taken to Leon’s university friends rather than it being indicative of wider problems in the marriage. But, putting her own views aside, she felt awful at having let Leon go through the marriage break-up on his own, even if she had had no clue that it was happening.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry, Lee,’ she managed. ‘Are you okay? Are the boys okay?’
Leon sniffed. ‘Thomas is away at uni now and doesn’t seem to be bothered. It’s hit James a bit harder, but then he always was the more sensitive one.’
More like his dad than his mum, thought Maggie.
‘So where are you living?’ she asked. ‘You’re still in Leeds, I assume.’
‘Yep. Becky’s stayed in the house and I’ve got myself a little bachelor pad down by the river in the centre of town. It’s handy for work and there’s room for James to come and stay whenever he wants.’
Maggie couldn’t quite take it in. It seemed so unlikely. But then, unlikely things happened all the time. Just look at her own situation.
‘And are you okay?’ she repeated, her voice tender.
Again, there was a little pause. Maggie wondered if he might be crying, but then when he spoke again there was no indication of it in his voice.
‘Yes, I’m fine. It had been on the cards for a while, if I’m being honest. When the axe actually fell it was almost a relief.’
Maggie was dying to ask which of them had initiated the break-up, but that wasn’t the kind of question you asked over the phone.
‘And how are you?’ he asked her.
How was she? Well, for the purposes of this conversation, she was fine.
‘I’m fine,’ she said.
They finished up with a swapping of the news that she had about Angie and Tiger, wished each other a merry Christmas and then ended the call. That had been four months ago. Surely, he would be up for a night out now to celebrate the thirty years thing.
Without letting herself overthink it any further, Maggie pressed send.
It didn’t take long for her phone to ping with replies – Angie’s consisting mainly of shocked-looking emojis and redacted expletives, Leon’s more measured but still expressing surprise that it had indeed been thirty years. A plan was forged for food and wine in York the following Saturday night, Angie picking a restaurant that she knew would have enough vegan options for her to choose from.
Maggie was looking forward to seeing them both. She would do a little quiz, she decided, about things that had happened when they lived together. It would be funny, and it was nice to look back. She might even dig out some old photographs, too, although seeing the passage of time displayed quite so graphically might be a bit painful. Maggie had always thought that she was ageing well. She had hung on to her figure and kept her grey hairs at bay with regular and expensive visits to Vidal Sassoon in Leeds. Recently, though, the marks of time had become etched into her face, more deep wrinkles than fine lines. And fewer visits to the salon meant that her previously sharp cut had morphed into something more ‘mumsy’ and middle-aged.
Maybe she wouldn’t bother with the photos after all. The quiz would be enough.
32
Angie was determined to get to the restaurant first, if nothing else to prove that she could do it, but somehow time had got away from her.
‘You look nice,’ Romany commented as Angie appeared from her bedroom in her going-out dress, a pale blue tunic printed with peacocks that she wore over mustard yellow leggings. ‘Where are you going again?’
Romany was sitting at the table, surrounded by schoolbooks and printed sheets. Whatever happened to textbooks? Angie wondered. Too expensive these days, no doubt, but all those printed sheets year after year would surely add up to the cost of a textbook eventually. It didn’t strike her as very green.
Romany had her chestnut hair tied up in a messy bun from which protruded two biros and a pencil, and seeing them there gave Angie such a rush of love for her studious child that she had to give her a squeeze.
‘Oi!’ objected Romany, but she allowed herself to break off for a moment for a hug. Romany was focused in a way that Angie had never been. So often her daughter reminded her of Maggie, which she could now see, with the benefit of hindsight garnered from almost fifty years’ life experience, was perhaps no bad thing.
‘I’m meeting Maggie and Leon, remember,’ Angie said. ‘Because apparently it’s thirty years since we first met.’
‘OMG! That’s, like, a total lifetime,’ said Romany, and Angie sighed.
‘It’s actually twice your lifetime,’ she said. ‘I thought you were supposed to be good at maths. And don’t say “like”.’
Romany rolled her eyes good-humouredly. ‘It’s pretty cool though, Mum. That you’re still friends after all that time.’
Angie nodded thoughtfully. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I suppose it is. It’s funny. We should never have been friends in the first place. Not really. We’re all too different, but we just sort of got thrown in together and stuck to each other.’
‘That’s probably why you’re still friends now,’ said Romany. ‘If you’re all so different then you’re less likely to fall out.’
Angie planted a kiss on her daughter’s forehead. ‘You, my darling child, are very wise.’
‘I know,’ she said, mock-preening herself. ‘It’s one of the huge number of talents that I possess. So, where are you meeting?’
‘No. 24. At seven thirty.’ Angie looked at the time on her phone. ‘And I’m late. Shit! Right, I’m out of here. Bed by ten. No wild parties or orgies. I’ll lock the door behind me. Don’t let anyone in!’
Romany raised an eyebrow and shook her head. ‘I’m not six years old,’ she said. ‘Have a great time. Say hello to Auntie Maggie from me. And what’s his name, Leon.’
‘Will do.’ Angie gave her another quick kiss and a squeeze of her shoulder and then left the flat.
It was cold outside and her dress wasn’t thick enough. She should have brought a coat, but if she went back now she would be even later, and Romany would laugh at her for being disorganised. So, she set off at speed up the street, hoping that the exercise would warm her up sufficiently to not miss the coat.
When she arrived at the restaurant, the other two were already there and a bottle of something red had been opened and poured into two large glasses.
‘Why am I always the last?’ Angie asked breathlessly, dropping herself down into the remaining chair and pushing her hair away from her sweaty brow.
‘Because you have a special talent for it,’ replied Leon with a fond smile. ‘Do you want some of this?’
He picked up the bottle and went to pour some into her glass, but she put her hand over the top.
‘Why can’t you remember that I don’t drink any more? It’s been fifteen years!’
Leon shook his head. ‘I suppose because I always picture you with a beer in your hand,’ he said, and she punched his arm. ‘What can I get you instead?’
‘Water is fine,’ she said, and he shook his head.
‘Don’t you miss having a drink?’ he asked.
Angie was about to give her stock answer about no longer needing alcohol, but then she remembered who she was talking to.
‘Hell, yes! Sometimes I dream about beer, lots of little bottles all marching towards me like the brooms in The Sorcerer’s Apprentice. But then I remember that this was my decision and no one forced me into it. And I do feel so much better without all that shit in my system.’
‘Personally, I like a bit of shit.’ Leon laughed.
Angie turned her attention to Maggie then. So far she hadn’t spoken, but was sitting and quietly observing the other two.
‘So, Mags,’ Angie began before she had switched her gaze from one friend to the other. When she did, the rest of the sentence stuck in her throat. ‘God, Maggie. What’s the matter? You look bloody awful.’
Maggie tried to laugh. ‘Gee, thanks for that, Ange,’ she said.
‘I’m sorry. But honestly, what’s the matter? Are you ill? Is it serious?’
Thoughts of cancer or some other life-threatening illness raced through Angie’s mind. She had never seen anyone age so quickly in such a short period of time. She tried to think when she had last seen Maggie, and concluded that it must have been when she had dropped round just before Christmas with gifts for her and Romany. That was only four months ago. How could a person change so much so quickly?
Maggie seemed to retreat a little, wrapping her arms around herself as if in protection from the glare of Angie’s focus.
‘I’m not ill,’ she said. ‘I’m fine.’
Angie didn’t believe it and she said so. ‘No, you’re not. Something’s definitely up. What is it? Come on. You can tell us.’
Maggie studied the table hard, as if the answer to the question was somehow caught in the striped grain of the wood. Her bony fingers pulled at the skin on her chin repetitively and with some force so that Angie wanted to put a hand out to stop her.
Then she took a deep breath.
‘I lost my job,’ she said.
She pulled her gaze up to meet their eyes. Then she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, as if she had decided to own this information. She reached for her glass and took a long drink.
Angie was stunned. Part of her thought that she couldn’t have heard properly, although she knew that she had.
It was Leon who gathered himself first.
‘But you’re a partner,’ he said. ‘The boss. They can’t do that, surely?’
‘They can,’ replied Maggie. ‘And they have.’
‘But why?’ asked Angie.
Maggie must surely have been the best lawyer in the place. Angie knew nothing about the law, but she had never once had any doubt that Maggie would be brilliant at what she did. She was just that kind of person. Her skills brushed off her all the time, like lily pollen. They were just there, obvious.
Maggie shrugged. ‘My face didn’t fit any more,’ she said. ‘Too old, too traditional, too change-averse. Too risk-averse, more like it,’ she added with a sardonic raise of an eyebrow. ‘Anyway, whatever it was, I’m out. I am unemployed. And now, no doubt, unemployable on top.’
Angie wished that she had a beer. Taking a sip of water really didn’t cut it when there had been a shock. And this was a shock. It had never once occurred to her that a disaster of any type, let alone one of this magnitude, would ever befall Maggie. Her life was bolted together with titanium: blast-proof, bomb-proof, everything-proof. It always had been, and Angie had assumed that it always would be.
‘God, Maggie, that’s crap,’ said Leon. ‘When did it happen?’
‘Three weeks ago,’ replied Maggie. ‘Technically I’m still on notice, but they made it clear that they didn’t need any help picking up my files. So they’ve put me on garden leave until the end of June. And then that’s it. On the scrapheap just before my fiftieth birthday. Could it get any shittier?’
Angie could think of various things that would actually be worse, but this clearly wasn’t the time to start pointing out how much Maggie had to be grateful for. Instead, she threw an arm around Maggie’s shoulder. She felt her tense at the unaccustomed touch, but then she leant into the gesture and Angie squeezed harder.
‘So, have you given any thought as to what you’re going to do?’ asked Leon.
Maggie threw him a look that suggested that she had thought about little else, but then she shrugged. ‘Not really. Obviously, I’m being paid until the end of June. And I have plenty of savings, so money won’t be an issue. Not for a while, at least. But after that? I have no idea. Get another job, I suppose, although who would want me is a bit of a moot point.’
‘Of course they’ll want you,’ Angie said indignantly.
But she was talking about the other Maggie, she realised, the Maggie with a rock-solid plan who always got exactly what she shot for. She wasn’t sure who this new version of her friend was. And neither, it appeared, was Maggie.
‘Do you know what the hardest part is?’ Maggie asked, without looking at either Angie or Leon but focusing instead on the bustle around the bar. ‘If I’m not a solicitor then I have no idea who I’m supposed to be. For my entire life I have either been working towards becoming a solicitor or actually being one. I can’t remember a time when it wasn’t part of how I saw myself. And now that it’s gone, I’m not sure what else there is. Not much, basically.’
Her bottom lip began to tremble, revealing the effort that she was having to put into not crying.
‘But you’re still a solicitor,’ said Leon. ‘You’ll always be one.’
It wasn’t a helpful thing to say and Angie wanted to kick him under the table, but Maggie seemed to take it in the spirit that it had been offered. She gave him a wan smile.
‘Yes. But you take my point. No husband, no family, no social life to speak of, present company excepted. My work has pretty much been my life and my raison d’être. Now, if someone asks me who I am and what I do, I have absolutely nothing to say.’
Angie could see that she was really struggling to hold herself together.
‘I know it must feel like that now, Mags, but we all know that’s not true. We wouldn’t be friends with a loser like that, would we, Leon?’
Leon grinned. ‘No, we would not. Only the mega-successful can join our band,’ he said. He gave Maggie a look that Angie had never seen pass between them before, caring and almost intimate despite his jokey comment, and she wondered if there had been conversations between them that she hadn’t been privy to. She decided not. Leon was clearly as surprised by Maggie’s news as she was. But maybe there was something else that she’d missed.
‘Well, I’m glad it’s not just me whose life has turned to shit,’ Leon said, draining his glass and reaching for the bottle.
‘Oh Leon,’ Maggie said, ‘hark at me making it all about my problems, and I didn’t even ask how you were getting on. How are you?’
‘I’m okay,’ he said. ‘I’ve had longer to get used to my new status than you. And it’s all right really. I hadn’t been what Becky wanted me to be for a while. Well, forever really, but it took her the best part of twenty years to work out that she couldn’t mould me into her version of a perfect husband. So, when she suggested that our marriage had run its course, it was pretty easy just to agree with her. And living alone has a lot to commend it, I’m discovering. I can eat takeaway from the carton in my boxers and there’s no one there to object.’
‘Ew!’ squealed Angie. ‘Save us that particular mental image!’
Leon looked affronted. ‘There’s nothing there that you haven’t both experienced before,’ he said.
‘Well, I’m not sure that I want to experience it again!’ Angie said, and they all laughed more loudly than the comment deserved, a welcome relief from the tension.
The waitress arrived to take their order, but as no one had even opened their menu, Angie sent her away.
‘So, does that mean I’m the only one that has their shit together right now?’ she asked in delight. ‘Praise be! It’s a miracle! I’ve waited a bloody long time for my turn to come round.’
‘And talking of getting your shit together,’ said Leon, ‘have you heard from Tiger recently?’
Angie saw Maggie start at the mention of his name. It’s still there then, she thought idly, after all this time. There was something else as well. She thought she saw Leon’s jaw tighten slightly. Had he and Tiger had words last time he’d been home? That seemed unlikely, but she couldn’t think why else there might be any bad feeling between the two of them.
‘Not seen him for about a year,’ she said. ‘No, wait, it’ll be closer to two. God, is it really that long?’
‘Well, time is flying,’ Maggie said. ‘Evidence – one thirty-year reunion dinner.’
‘I suppose so,’ said Angie. ‘Last time I heard anything he was working at a diving school in the Caribbean. The Cayman Islands, I think, wherever they are.’
