This One Life

Chapter Fifteen PRESENT DAY

Jimmy stood on the walkway with his hands in his pockets. He exhaled through his bloated cheeks. ‘Well, that was interesting!’

Aware of being overheard, Madeleine stepped out on to the walkway, and they both leaned out over the concrete wall, looking down on to the car park.

‘Wanna talk about it?’ She moved closer to him.

‘Trina’s the person you were talking about when you said my love interest might be closer than I thought? It was Trina, right?’

‘You’d make a brilliant detective.’

They both laughed.

‘She’s a lovely person,’ he half-whispered, and this phrase alone was enough to suggest his interest in Trina might not be romantic. No one she had ever heard who had fires of lust licking their loins or a burning desire to hold on to someone for the rest of their lives started with this phrase. She waited for the ‘but’. ‘But, I’ve never thought of her in any way other than as a friend. I’ve known her a long time and if I had thought any different, I’d have acted on it by now, right?’ He kicked at the wall; clearly it wasn’t an easy discussion for him. ‘I mean, I’m slow to take the initiative sometimes, but not that bloody slow.’

‘I guess.’ She could only guess at Trina’s disappointment if he had told her something similar. ‘But people change. Feelings change.’

‘I suppose so. And it’s not that I’m not into it ... I mean, she’s beautiful and funny and Edith loves her. It’s just, you know when you haven’t considered something before and it takes a while to tune your head in?’ He turned and seemed to be taking in her face in this dull afternoon light. She felt her skin flash hot under his scrutiny.

‘I don’t want to interfere,’ she began.

‘I think we both know that’s a lie!’ he laughed.

‘You’re right.’ She took a breath, wanting to get the words right. ‘But it’d be so nice to see everyone settled and happy.’

‘Well, you can rest easy, Mads, because I am both settled and happy and busy. I guess if and when romance comes knocking, that’ll be lovely, but I’m all good.’

‘You know what I mean!’ she tutted.

‘I actually don’t.’ He turned again to face her.

‘I guess Marnie’s words struck a chord. She’s right: this life is short and uncertain and when you find someone who wants to love you and who you might love in return, you need to tell them how you feel, you need to be open to the opportunity, because who knows when the next one might come along? I said as much to Trina.’ She hoped it was good advice.

His shoulders seemed to sink and his expression was one of deep thought.

‘You really think she feels that way? Is it obvious?’

‘To me, yes.’ The way Trina looked at him, spoke about him ... ‘And for what it’s worth, I think you’d make a lovely couple.’

‘You do?’ He pulled his head back on his shoulders.

‘Yes! Yes, I do!’

‘But wouldn’t that be weird, for you, for us, because of ... of ...?’ He visibly reddened.

‘No! We can’t let it be weird. You can’t let it be weird!’ She stared at him.

His head hung forward and he stared at the ground before righting himself and standing in front her. ‘It’s a lot to think about, Mads. I ... am really fond of Trina. I guess I’ve never thought ...’ He pushed his hair behind his ears. ‘I remember I told you how I felt a while ago; that I thought you were remarkable and beautiful and funny and smart, and you said—’ He stopped talking and faltered, as if even to remember her words were painful.

She knew exactly what she had said. It was her mantra, her go-to phrase to protect her heart, set expectations, and to make her stance clear. Nothing lasts for ever. Nothing, Jimmy.

‘I know what I said.’ She spared him the chore of repetition.

He nodded and looked a little relieved.

‘I felt really daft for opening up to you like that. Crushed, actually,’ he admitted, in the open way that he had. ‘And if I’m being honest, it’s made me wary, really wary of opening up to anyone. Supposing I got closer to Trina and then she binned me. I’d lose my friend, Edith would lose her friend too, and it’d be awkward if we all went over to your mum’s place, and it’s already difficult enough when—’ He looked up as if remembering who he was speaking to. She filled in the blanks. When you’re there ...

She felt the sting of his words across her cheek. Nothing less than she deserved.

‘If it’s any consolation, Nico, I won’t ever forgive myself for making you feel that way. Won’t forgive myself for a lot of things.’

‘Like?’

‘Like ... I should have been kinder about the drawing you gave me.’

‘Oh God, the drawing! The drawing you didn’t remember.’ He ran his palm over his face as if this might wipe away his unease. ‘I knew the moment I handed it over it was a mistake. Your face, it was like, what ? You retreated then and I kind of knew you’d run away, and you did. I felt like such a plum.’

She shook her head and was surprised by the sadness that rose inside her. ‘I did. I did remember it,’ she stuttered as tears clogged her nose and throat. ‘I said I didn’t because I remember how hurt you looked, your face ... and I hate that I made you feel that way.’ She wiped her eyes. ‘But, actually, Jimmy, it was quite an important thing for me, that picture.’

‘Important, why?’

‘Because ... because ... two things really.’ She swallowed. ‘First, no one had ever done anything like that for me, that grand gesture. It’s the kind of thing we all think about, isn’t it? Someone doing something crazy and spontaneous and brave to make their intent clear. It’s flattering – lovely! The fairytale.’

‘And the second thing?’ He kicked against the concrete wall.

‘It was the first time I thought that there might be a different life for me.’

‘A life you don’t want,’ he reminded her.

‘I’m not sure what I want right now.’ She took a moment to order her thoughts, feeling as emotionally cautious as she did vulnerable, letting down her iron guard, just for a second. ‘I suppose that picture was important because it was the first time anyone had shown that level of interest in me, expressed that kind of intention, and it was a big thing.’

‘I see.’ He stiffened a little as if still embarrassed.

‘And I guess somewhere at the back of my mind, I liked the idea of a future like the one you drew. But one day, one day when I’m ready, when I’ve done everything I need to do, everything I want to do,’ she corrected.

‘When do you think that will be, Mads? When will you be ready?’ He was fishing and she knew it.

‘I honestly don’t know.’ This was her truth.

He looked past her into the middle distance. ‘Do you know you just called me Nico?’

‘What? Did I?’ She wrinkled her nose, unaware. ‘When?’

He smiled. ‘Just now, when you were talking about forgiveness, about what you want.’

‘Sorry, Jimmy.’ She laughed, nervously. ‘I ...’

‘You might want to concentrate on matchmaking for yourself, how about that?’

‘You might have a point.’ She wished it were that simple, confident she’d blown it with Nico. The way they’d parted didn’t suggest reunion was imminent – quite the opposite, in fact, and her spirit flagged at the thought.

‘You see that’s the thing – someone who might have very deep, unshakeable feelings for you could wait a lifetime, sitting in the wings while you chase the next thing and the next. They might think that’s too hard. They might give up, decide it’s too big an ask for such an uncertain outcome.’

‘Then I guess they are not the one who I’ll get to sit and watch the ducks on my pond with in old age.’

‘I guess not.’ He reached out and tucked the loose tendril of hair that had fallen over her eye behind her ear. ‘I will always think the world of you, Madeleine Woods, will always want the best for you, because you’re Edith’s mum. And I truly hope that when the day comes that you do know what you want, you don’t look back at your life and regret not choosing a different path.’

‘Why would I?’

‘Because I think there comes a time in all our lives when we re-evaluate what’s important. And I would hate for you to reach that point and for it to be too late, and that the thing or things you need or want are no longer available to you because the world has moved on.’

He reached out again and this time wiped the tear from her cheek. She hadn’t realised she was crying.

‘The day ...’ she began, her words coasting out on tear-laden breaths. ‘The day I left the flat, handed Edith over to my mum, was the hardest of my life. It will always be the hardest of my life.’

‘You could have turned back.’ He met her eyeline now.

‘I could, Jimmy, trouble is ... I honestly ... I didn’t know how to have it all, how to do it all. I still don’t.’

‘It’s not impossible. You just need to learn how. It’s about making everything fit in a way that works for you.’

‘I do want to speak to Nico, but I’m scared.’ She sniffed, her chest heaving with the effort to contain all that bloomed inside of her. ‘I want to spend more time with Edith, but I’m scared. Truth is, I’ve been scared since the day I woke up with a stomach ache and found out I was pregnant. And I mess up, Jimmy, I mess up all the time. I try so hard to keep it together, but be under no illusion ...’ Her tears made speaking almost impossible. ‘My heart is blistered. So badly blistered it burns every single day. And when I see her now’ – she rubbed her eyes, not caring that her make-up would end up on her cheek – ‘it’s like my arms are tied to my body, my tongue glued to the roof of my mouth, my blood runs thick in my veins and my feet are set in concrete, and I can’t run to her! I can’t take her in my arms and tell her all that I want to, I can’t do it! And you have no idea how much I wish I could. I really wish I could! I want her to know me, I want her to really know me. I want her to know my failings, my worries, the dilemma I face every single day as I play a part and do my best, trying to be the best I can be, to reach my goals, all with my background and what I have given up snaking around my ankles, ready to trip me up. I’m a human and I’m imperfect and that’s fine. She needs to know that’s fine. And I want to really know her. I think ... I think then I’d be happy. I’d be happy then, Jimmy.’

He raised his arms and she closed her eyes, ready to fall against him, to bury her head in his chest and rest awhile; all it would take was one step towards him on this concrete walkway. One tiny step ... and to lay her head on his chest now, she knew she would forget all about paint samples, chandeliers, scratches on her fridge, meetings at work, flights to LA, Nico, the pressure to succeed, the pressure to look good, the pressure to lead, to win, to keep striving, to keep thriving, all of it. She’d forget it all, just for a while ... It took all of her strength not to fall into him, to cast off the reality and dive entirely into the idea, to submit to the fairytale. Trina would do it, this much she knew. Trina would throw herself at this prince and make a vow. And they would no doubt live a happy life, a small, happy life ... but she wasn’t Trina.

And as Madeleine had mentioned to Dr Schoenfeld, she was wired differently.

She tried, tried again to take that step, but it wasn’t Jimmy that she wanted, not in that way. Yes, he would always have a place in her heart, in her life, but Trina loved him, properly loved him, and she had hurt Trina by disregarding this. What Madeleine wanted was three things: to make amends, more balance between her two worlds, and openness that just might help her achieve both.

Because her life, currently, was exactly as she had described to Jimmy – as if her feet were set in concrete and she couldn’t move. And it had to change. It all had to change.

Jimmy lowered his arms.

‘I want you to find your place, Mads. I want you to find somewhere you are content to be, where you are free to be happy, somewhere that feels like home.’

‘A forever home.’ She quoted the words he had written almost a decade ago.

‘And I told you then and I am telling you now: it doesn’t need it to last for ever, just for a lifetime.’

Madeleine had a flight to catch.

The last few days had passed in a blur. Organising the handover of the Stern project, making sure everything was shipshape, had taken every waking hour. Her beautiful apartment had been partially mothballed. Tan had a set of keys and was very kindly going to pop in weekly to give it the once over and remove the junk mail from the table in the front hallway, prior to the new tenants moving in. He also confessed that while the place was empty, if Ramon was annoying him, he would hide there and nap in her bed. She didn’t mind, understanding the need to escape occasionally.

Rebecca had sent her a picture of Madam Marcia in her sundress with matching parasol. Her heart sank at the sight of it. Judging from the expression on Madam Marcia’s face, she was none too impressed either.

Madeleine was travelling light, preferring to take a few key summer pieces and top up her wardrobe when she arrived. It was how she liked to travel, unencumbered by too much baggage.

Ha! She smiled. The analogy wasn’t lost on her. Any more baggage and she’d need to pack Orna in her hand luggage, just to help her emotionally unpack!

Marnie’s surgery had gone well, and she had already been discharged from the hospital. According to her dad, whom she had chatted to last night, it was business as usual, almost. Edith had an inset day today, and Jimmy was going to stay at home to look after her. The main complaint from her mum was the fact that she was using a wheelchair to get from A to B, something that didn’t exactly delight her.

It was with a slightly nervous stomach that Madeleine looked up at the impressive white stucco building with its grand Palladian-inspired porch. Her last trip to see her therapist for a while. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it – nervous certainly, but also a little like she’d come to the end of a course or period of study, like she’d learned something. It felt fitting to come and bid farewell to her confidante in person, to make a plan to stay in touch, and to thank her for how much she had helped Madeleine over the last couple of years, helping her figure out the jumble of thoughts that were now not quite so jumbled.

A smart-suited and -booted man was leaving as she was about to ring the buzzer – he held the door open for her and she thanked him as she walked inside. Again she trod the stairs, eschewing the lift and feeling a little wistful at the prospect of not seeing Orna every week. They had after all become firm friends and had shared so much. The consulting room door was closed. She took a deep breath, found her neutral face, and knocked.

After a brief pause, Orna opened the door.

Madeleine beamed at her, wondering how their last session would go.

‘Hello! I wasn’t expecting to see you.’ Her therapist was obviously surprised; she looked over her shoulder and gestured behind the half-closed door, no doubt to a patient sitting on that leather sofa. Madeleine felt instantly awkward and confused; it was as if she had dropped in on the fly, which was absolutely not the done thing.

‘I have a session booked!’ Madeleine pulled a tortured expression, mortified by the mix-up.

‘No! No, you don’t, my love.’ The woman pushed her glasses up on her nose, still holding the door closed, as if guarding something dangerous or forbidden. ‘I have you booked in for tomorrow. I’m actually with someone right now.’ She gestured with her eyes. ‘And I know how much you appreciate an uninterrupted session.’ Orna smiled, sweetly, awkwardly, as she made the point.

‘The thing is I’m leaving today, after this, heading to the airport in a bit. I won’t be here tomorrow!’ Her embarrassment was acute.

‘There’s obviously been a mix-up.’ Orna swallowed. ‘I’m so sorry. Let me call you later.’ Unbelievably, the woman went to close the door and, for some reason she couldn’t explain, Madeleine put her foot in the gap. She didn’t want to be dismissed like this, not for possibly the last time she might see her. It wasn’t good enough.

It was strange how in that moment she understood that while it was always just her and Orna, talking freely, she was but one of a long list of patients who sank down on to that sofa and that her safe place was not hers alone. She felt her cheeks flame with embarrassment, recognising the misplaced and frankly naive sense of disloyalty and rejection that being kept outside of the room filled her with.

‘No, sorry, I just—’ What did she want to say? ‘As I said, I’m off to LA in a few hours.’

‘Yes. I understand.’ Orna smiled, her movements hesitant, as she stared at Madeleine’s foot in the door, her words stilted as if trying to speed things along.

‘And I understand you’re busy. I’ll head off now, but before I go, I just want to ask you something.’

‘Right.’ She watched Orna look upwards and blink quickly. ‘I would say email me all of this and, erm, we’ll go from there.’

Madeleine nodded. ‘No, I’d rather not email you, I just wanted to ask you one thing – if you could just answer this one question.’ It felt important. It was important.

‘Fire away!’ Orna’s brief smile spoke of her irritation, as she folded her arms across her chest and gave only the slightest sigh of impatience. Madeleine removed her foot from the door.

‘Do you think it’s possible to change your mind on something fundamental? Is it possible to want one thing aged twenty but then, as you nearly hit thirty, to look back and realise that you might have made a mistake?’

‘Sure. Of course!’ Orna stepped forward and held the door almost closed behind her, her voice low to maintain their established confidentiality. ‘I will say this: I think you need to give yourself permission to freely give love and demonstrate love to Edith – in fact, to anyone you want to. And that doesn’t necessarily mean being her full-time mother or comparing how you wish to parent with how Jimmy or Marnie do it. It’s between you and Edith. I also think part of that permission is bound in a decision to stop punishing yourself.’

‘I ...’ She was a little lost for words.

‘We change, Madeleine, year on year, decade on decade – that’s the wonderful thing about life! We are never stone. We move, we change, we grow, and if we are very, very lucky, we educate ourselves and grow in confidence, which allows us to make different decisions. That is being human!’

‘Someone once told me to remember that no story is about how it starts, but always about how it finishes.’

‘That sounds like good advice. Goodbye, Madeleine.’

‘Bye, Orna.’

‘I’ll see you when you get back?’

Madeleine turned to walk down the dull staircase in the depressing hallway. ‘Erm, probably not.’ She smiled, hearing Edith’s words in her head. ‘I might just talk to my friends.’

An image of Trina filled her head, running into the café and slipping into the booth next to her.

Why are you romanticising the shiteness of it all?

And why are you shitting on the niceness of it all?

How she wished she could see her once more before she left, just the two of them. It felt like they’d made progress in Marnie’s kitchen. It occurred to her then, why wait for Trina to make the move? Why not pull down her defences and reach out to the woman who was once her sister ...

Her therapist’s words resonated. It hadn’t occurred to her that her inability to love and to be loved was bound in a deep-seated idea that she didn’t deserve it. This was, she knew, just one strand to the complex fabric that she had woven and behind which she hid. There was one thought however, one phrase that rang out louder than all others, and it came not from Orna, but from Marnie: the simple fact that life was short.

Too short for her not to become more involved with her wonderful child and too short not to make amends with Trina. They certainly had a lot to talk about. Some topics more pressing than others. Jimmy, she decided, for too long had sat between them like a thorn. He couldn’t be the reason for them not to pick up where they had left off when she got back to the UK.

She wanted more than ever to leave with a feeling of resolution, and that she had something to look forward to when she eventually came home – a network, a family.

Marnie was right; how did Edith fit into a move to the other side of the bloody world? How was she supposed to navigate that? How was Madeleine? And the answer to the most fundamental question of all came to her now.

‘Yes, Mum. I will miss you. I will miss you all!’ She gulped down the emotion that filled her throat as she spoke the realisation out loud. ‘I will miss you all so much!’

She felt the swell of hope that she and Trina might be able to pick up where they had left off: drinking tea, scoffing biscuits, walking arm in arm in the park, shopping on a Saturday and eating fried egg sandwiches in Marnie’s kitchen on a Sunday morning, because life was not black and white. It was not all or nothing. Her worlds could collide! She felt sure of it and was in fact buoyed up by the thought! Marnie had done all she could to ensure that her daughter still had a chance.

‘I still have a chance,’ she whispered. ‘I still have a chance!’ She stood in the middle of the pavement, not caring that the crowds had to navigate around her as her thoughts came thick and fast.

She reached for her phone and waited for her call to be answered, praying her call would be answered.

‘Trina!’

‘Mads! I thought you’d be up and away by now, eating a mini bag of stinky pretzels and knocking back a plastic tumbler of warm white wine.’

‘I was, I will be – I mean, I should be. I’ve got plenty of time to make my flight,’ Madeleine explained as she gripped her little bag behind her, dragging it over the pavement. ‘I was going to head to the airport and work – it’s as good a place to work as any – but ...’ What did she want to say?

There was a beat of silence. ‘Is everything okay?’ Trina clearly wondered at the reason for the unexpected call.

Madeleine looked up and down the busy street and knew it was a conversation she would prefer to have face to face. It was almost as if, without the pressure of work, preparing to move, and her travel plans whizzing around her head, she was able to breathe deeply for the first time in an age. Consequently breathing deeply allowed clarity of thought.

‘Are you around? Have you got a minute?’

‘Erm, yes, and yes. I’m on the high street, actually.’

‘Shall I come and find you? We could go to The Copper Kettle?’

She heard her friend’s soft laughter, probably, like her, thinking of the hours they used to waste, sitting in a booth, trying to make a cup of tea last, or maybe she too recalled the last time they had gone there, when their friendship had collapsed, and the words they exchanged on that day which still stung like a slap across her face.

‘I guess so.’

‘I’ll see you there, just jumping in a cab!’ Letting go of her suitcase, she raised her hand to hail a taxi as she spoke.

‘Okay, see you there.’

As the taxi pulled up, Madeleine jumped in and placed her cabin bag on the seat next to her. Sitting back, she watched the city pass by through the window, knowing she would miss it and all the people in it she loved, until she came home.

Home . . .

Her phone beeped with a text from Tan. She wondered what the first emergency was. It didn’t bode well that she hadn’t yet left London. But it wasn’t an emergency, more of an information update.

OH MY GOD! YOUR MENEGHINI LA CAMBUSA IS SCRATCHED! DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS?!?

Her reply was immediate.

I DO. RELAX, TAN, IT’S ONLY A FRIDGE!

His reply was equally instant.

WHERE IS MADELEINE AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH HER?

She laughed. He was right, actually, she could feel the subtle changes in her make-up. Her questions were however a little different: who is Madeleine and what does she need to do to be truly happy?

Madeleine paid the cabbie and looked through the window of The Copper Kettle. There was Trina, in the booth at the front, stirring her tea before taking a bite of a fat croissant. She observed her fondly, this woman sitting in the exact same spot where they had idled in their teens when funds allowed. People rushed by, some loaded up with evidence of shopping, others holding hands with loved ones, a few grappling with prams or pushchairs. All busy with the chores of life, the travelling to and fro, the mechanics of existence that kept all the wheels turning. Madeleine remembered what it had felt like to go about life, knowing that if she came unstuck, had something to say, or before the first flicker of loneliness could spark, Trina was there to pick her up, to hear her words and to cocoon her in a friendship that made everything feel possible. Just the sight of her right now, her best friend throughout her childhood and the only person she had wanted to reach out to when the chips were down, it was no surprise to feel the threat of tears.

She felt the bloom in her chest of something quite painful, as if the loss and desperation of their estrangement came to rest by her heart, risen to the top like a bubble. No longer was she able to keep it buried, and it hurt.

Trina looked up and smiled as Madeleine slipped into the booth.

‘Look at you, slumming it back over in East London!’

She nodded and bit her bottom lip that was trembling. It was as if she’d been holding it together but the sight of her friend meant she could let it all out.

‘Has something happened?’ Trina lowered her head and looked into her face. ‘Is it Marnie?’

‘No. No, she’s fine – well, as fine as can be expected. Think she’s giving Dad a hard time.’

‘Has your flight been cancelled? Don’t tell me they’ve bumped you to coach?’

Shaking her head, Madeleine allowed herself a small smile.