Chapter 13
MAGGIE
I frown at the screen as I head into the foyer; Riz’s name under the two missed call notifications.
Why is she calling me at this time of night?
I wave my phone at Colin in the booth and make my way outside.
The wind hits me, and I pull my arm around myself against the salty air, returning her call.
‘Riz?’ I raise my voice over the wind, my hair tangling across my face.
‘Mags? I’m so sorry to be calling at this hour, but, well… the thing is, I seem to have gotten myself into a spot of bother and the truth of the matter is, I had no one else that I could call.’
‘Are you OK?’ I think of the thoughts I’d heard flash through her mind the last time I was there when I’d had to help her into her chair.
Almost there. Getting old is such a shit.
The pain in her hip, the retirement home, the feeling of closure that had ricocheted through her words as she thought about boxing up her things, locking the door of her house for the final time.
I know how she depends on this job.
She’s such a bright spark.
I see myself in her.
If only life had thrown her a few more favourable rolls of the dice.
This will probably be my last true act of independence.
And it’s going to break my heart.
‘Well, there’s the rub. I seem to have gotten myself in a bit of a fix, and I wondered, if it’s not too big an inconvenience, if you could possibly pop over? You still have your key?’ There is a gasp on the other end of the phone, as though she’s shifted her position and is in pain.
Riz’s key is on my keychain in my jacket pocket, which is still folded under my seat next to Jack. ‘Yep. Do you need an ambulance? I can…’
‘No. No. I don’t need all that fuss, but I would be grateful for a little help.’
‘Just hold tight. I’m on my way.’
The wind almost pulls the doors straight from my hands but I close it behind me, and make my way back to Jack.
‘Problem?’ Jack scans my face as I look over to him. There is concern and kindness in his eyes.
‘It’s Riz,’ I begin in a rush, gathering my jacket. ‘I’m her cleaner. I think she’s had a fall. I’m sorry, I need to go.’
‘I’ll come with you.’
‘No, no… you stay. Watch the end of the film.’
But he’s already standing.
* * *
I slip my key into the door, Jack behind me. The lights are off in the hallway. I flick them on.
‘Riz?’
‘Upstairs, Maggie dear.’ Music is playing from somewhere upstairs: ‘Moon River’. I recognise it from Breakfast at Tiffany’s.
I take the stairs two at a time, Jack following. A rectangle of soft warm light spills from her bedroom door onto the mauve carpet.
‘I’ll wait here,’ Jack says, staying in the hallway as I push open the door gently.
Riz is sitting in the middle of the room, her walker on its side, boxes surrounding her, photo albums stacked up, jewellery and clothing in wayward piles.
She’s dressed in an aquamarine sequined dress, long beads around her neck, bright red satin shoes on her feet with three-inch heels.
A bottle of champagne is sitting in an ice bucket on her chest of drawers; her red lipstick is smudged around the corner of her mouth.
‘Riz.’ I rush to her side, crouching down.
‘Darling, I’m so sorry. You must think me a silly old fool to get myself into such a bother at this hour.’
‘Not at all.’
She glances around the room wistfully. ‘I thought I’d have a last hurrah before this all gets packed up and sent away to charity shops but’ – she casts a glance around the room then gestures to her ankle with a lift of her chin – ‘it seems my dancing days are over.’
‘Never say never, eh?’ I smile gently. ‘Can you move your foot?’ She tries to shift but winces, tears filling her blue eyes.
‘Blast.’
‘Riz, I have a friend with me: Jack. Do you mind if he comes in?’
‘Oh, my dear. You were on a date.’
‘No. Well, not exactly.’
‘Darling girl, if your face lights up at the mere mention of his name then yes. I’m quite certain you were on a date.’ She leans forward a touch as I shift back as subtly as I can. ‘Is he handsome?’
‘Jack?’ I call. Riz shifts her neck to see him over my shoulder. Jack steps into the room, all six foot something of him filling the doorway.
‘Well, well.’ She takes him in, raises her eyebrows at me in appreciation.
‘Hi,’ he says. He doesn’t look around the room, just smiles at Riz as if he’s meeting her over lunch in a restaurant, not sequined and lipstick-smeared. ‘I’m Jack.’
‘Of course you are. Come on in, Jack. I’m afraid it’s been a while since a handsome man has been in my bedroom and it appears that you find me in quite the state of disarray.’
‘I think it’s sprained,’ I say, looking up.
Jack smiles at Riz, but I can see his mind is working.
He walks to the ice bucket, takes hold of a discarded cloth and wraps the ice inside.
He goes to pass it to me but must see the resistance registering on my face.
Instead, he pauses and crouches on the other side of her.
‘May I?’ he asks, gesturing to her ankle.
‘Be my guest.’ She flinches as he applies the ice.
‘Sorry,’ he replies.
‘What for? You didn’t waltz yourself onto the floor.’
‘I’m more of a tango dancer.’ He smiles, catches my eye with a grin, shifting the ice pack so it can lean against her without him applying pressure.
‘I can imagine.’ She raises a furiously plucked eyebrow at me suggestively.
She shifts. ‘Maggie, be a darling and pass me my cigarettes, will you?’ I scan the room, my eyes landing on a packet with a diamanté-encased lighter sitting on top.
I place them next to her. Riz quickly finds one and clamps it between her teeth.
Not missing a beat, Jack ignites the lighter, the flame flickering as Riz inhales deeply, blowing out a long plume of purple-grey haze.
‘So, Jack, tell me about yourself.’
‘Oh, there’s not much to tell.’ I hold on to my knowledge, surveying the room. He sits down on the floor next to her, back against the wall, legs crossed over at the ankles, head tilted towards Riz. ‘I’d much rather hear about you. Maggie tells me you’re a photographer?’
I love how he says it in present tense. It strikes me that I’ve not seen Jack interact with anyone other than a brief conversation with Romy.
It’s strange seeing this confidence in him, this easy charm and charisma.
Gone is the vulnerability that he revealed to me last week.
Riz laughs; Jack compliments her easily.
This is the man who was engaged. The man with ambition and drive who wins awards and owns a successful business.
There isn’t a hint of the pain and the void behind those eyes.
I begin picking up items of clothing as the two talk.
Jack remains seated on the floor beside her, his focus on Riz as she tells him she once worked for a French magazine that I’ve never heard of but which Jack is familiar with.
‘There’s a whole box of them…’ She frowns looking at the chaos around her. I take in the boxes. The house is filled with the evidence of a life well lived. I see the leaflet about the retirement home, and recognise the determination in her. She’s planning on doing all of this herself.
‘Are you moving house, Riz?’ I ask tentatively. She takes a long pull on her cigarette, then nods, eyes on me then Jack.
‘My final adventure. A retirement home they call it, but it’s where I’m going to be putting myself out to pasture.
I’ve lived a full life, known the love of a good man.
And it’s time. I’m fed up of being stuck in here on my own.
I have no family and all of my friends have kicked the bucket or lost their marbles.
’ She inhales again and waves around the room on an exhalation. ‘Most of this can go.’
Jack glances up at me. An unspoken conversation: she can’t pack all this away by herself.
‘I need company, you see.’ She turns her attention back to Jack.
‘Laughter!’ Her focus is back on me. ‘And not before long, I dare say, a bedpan. And I shall be taking myself under my own steam. This way, it’s my choice.
I’m not going to be put in some godforsaken institution without decent care.
The place I’ve chosen is perfect. Music on a Saturday night and well…
there’s bingo, which I can’t abide… all those silly phrases set my dentures on edge, but the daily menu is good, made by a proper chef and I get to take my own things for my room.
’ Her eyes roam the discarded items, the photos still on the walls.
‘It’s how I want to spend my final days, just as I have lived. My choices guided by my own decisions.’
She finishes her cigarette, twists it out into a small saucer.
Jack lifts the ice from her ankle. ‘Well, you’re made of stern stuff, Riz,’ he says.
‘The swelling has gone down a little already.’ Jack looks up at me; I’m clutching a vinyl record against my chest. ‘But we can take you to the doctors’ tomorrow to get it checked out?
’ I don’t miss the we. The invitation. The question in his eyes.
I want to say yes, of course we can take her to the doctors’, but I can’t.
There will be too many people and it’s too much of an intrusion to have access to so many private thoughts.
He must see my hesitation, and an understanding softens his expression.
I need to tell him the truth; this is going too far.
I mean, a second date at Flicks was OK – it’s not that huge a commitment – but now I’ve let him into my life outside of the cinema and…
and I’m not sure if he can be part of it.
Or that I can be part of his, not until I’ve explained.
‘How about I swing by tomorrow morning,’ he continues, ‘and take you to get checked out?’
I should say: no, it’s fine. You’re a busy man.
I’ll take my elderly friend to a busy doctors’ surgery, no problem.
But I know what it will be like, even if I’m able to avoid touching people with their own worries and fears.
I could call her a taxi but then who would help her down the steps? I know she has no children, no husband…
‘I’m sure you two have much more interesting things to be getting on with than taking care of the likes of me.
I’ll grab a cab and I…’ She looks around the room at the debris of her life.
There is a switch, something not quite defeated, but there is a drop in her shoulders, like the weight of the task at hand is suddenly pressing down on her slight frame.
‘It’s my day off,’ Jack continues.
‘Mine too. I can give you a hand, sorting out your things if you’d like?’ I suggest tentatively. ‘You’ll probably need to rest your ankle,’ I add for good measure.
She looks between the two of us, then around the room.
‘Very well.’ She smooths down the sparkles of her dress.
‘If you insist. Thank you. But I will pay you, Maggie dear.’ I try not to show how much this will mean to me.
‘I’ve never taken advantage of people’s good intentions and I don’t intend on doing that now.
Now, Maggie… you’re sure it won’t interrupt your studies?
’ It takes me a moment to catch on. The fake course I’d told her about.
‘It won’t. I… it doesn’t start until the new year so I have plenty of spare time.’
‘Well then. I always believe things happen for a reason, so it was a good job I got tipsy and fell on my derriere. Thank you both.’
Jack helps Riz up, and we wait outside the bathroom while she changes.
‘Studies?’ he asks, leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets.
‘It’s’ – I lower my voice – ‘she felt bad about me no longer cleaning for her. I told a little white lie to make it easier for her.’
Riz shuffles out, holding tightly to her frame. We get her settled, say our goodbyes, and make our way to the front door, an unspoken conversation passed through glances towards each other.
‘Sorry you didn’t get to see the end of the film,’ I say, shrugging on my jacket.
‘I’ll catch it next time.’ He smiles, softly.
‘Thanks again. You’ve done more than enough.’
Jack nods before opening the door and stepping outside.
He stops, turns, and makes his way back towards me.
My heart is pounding again. ‘Forgot my coat,’ he says.
I have to talk myself down from being so ridiculous.
What did I think was going to happen? That he was – what?
Going to ask me out again? Come back and snog my face off next to the door jamb?
‘I’ll get it.’
I rush upstairs, grab his coat, something heavy inside knocking against my thigh. I say goodbye to Riz again.
My mind is so filled with him, with what I should say, that I don’t notice that my gloves are peeled back, my fingertips bare. He steps towards me, hand outstretched for his jacket.
And we touch.
Again.