Chapter 14
MAGGIE
What am I doing? This is too soon.
I’m not ready.
I snatch my hand back.
‘Sorry,’ he immediately responds as I tuck my hand in my pocket.
‘It’s OK.’ He looks appalled by his actions.
‘I—’
‘Really, Jack.’ I smile despite reeling from his thoughts. ‘It’s fine. It was my fault; I wasn’t paying attention.’
I clutch the inside of my pocket, like I’m trying to hold on to something that is already lost. ‘I’m fine,’ I reassure him again, but he’s standing still, his eyes locked on my pocket.
I turn away, trying to push away the grainy image that was at the back of his thoughts.
The road outside the White Lion pub. Just down the road from where I was that night.
I close the front door behind us, the security light spotlighting us on the pavement, my heart knocking against my ribcage as I pull the mittens back over.
His thoughts replay over in my mind: This is too soon. I’m not ready.
‘I’ll swing by tomorrow and—’ Jack begins.
‘That’s… it’s really kind of you but… look.’ I drag my hands through my hair. ‘I… I think it might be better if…’ The muscles in my forehead tighten and I force myself to concentrate on my breathing instead. ‘I, if we… do you remember when I said that I’m complicated?’
‘I do, but—’
I bite down the pain before I continue. ‘I… this… you and me… I’m not available, not how you would need me to be if this is going where I think this might be.’
He puts his hands in his pockets and looks to the right of the street.
I soften my voice. ‘And I don’t think you’re ready either.’
There’s a stillness around us, the air heavy with all the things we’re not saying. He gives a small nod, a fraction of a movement.
‘So where do we go from here?’ he says quietly.
I want to touch him again, to hear what he’s thinking. Is he relieved? But I can’t do that. Not with him. ‘I would like us to be friends?’
His head leans, just a fraction. ‘Friends?’
I nod, glancing at my boots. ‘But…’ I meet his eyes. ‘The kind of friends who don’t spill orange juice on each other.’ I give him a small smile; I want to look away. I don’t.
He lets out a long breath, eyes searching mine. A car passes, a dog barks twice, life carrying on around us as though I’ve not said goodbye to the one real chance I’ve ever felt at a normal life.
‘OK. Friends,’ he says, and I try to ignore the pain that is tightening my chest.
‘But we could still see each other, on Fridays?’ I ask hopefully.
‘I always think that Friday is the best day of the week, isn’t it?
There is something that is even more special than the weekend – it’s the conclusion but there is still the promise of what could come next.
If you’d rather not though, I’d understand. ’
‘No, I mean yes, I’d like that.’
‘You’ve Got Mail is on next week. It’s about a bookshop owner so should be right up your street.’
He runs his knuckles along his jaw and nods. ‘Oh’ – he reaches into his inside pocket and pulls out a book – ‘I thought you might like this?’
He hesitates, glancing down at the book and my gloves, like he’s unsure how to pass it to me. I reach out, taking the book from his hands. ‘The Time Traveller’s Wife?’
‘Yeah.’ He takes a step back. ‘I think you’ll like it. It’s one of the book club’s favourites.’
‘Thanks, this looks great. I love a bit of time travel.’
There is an awkwardness to our exchange now. It’s as though we’re less like friends and more like strangers. ‘I’ll start it tonight and let you know. As we’re swapping favourites, check out Pride and Prejudice, the Keira Knightley one.’
He raises his eyebrows. ‘There is no way that it’s better than the—’
‘Book. I know, I know…’ I roll my eyes. ‘But the music is gorgeous and there is the best hand acting ever.’
‘Hand acting?’
‘You’ll see.’
‘Will do.’
‘We can compare notes?’
He nods, but his eyes are already scanning the road. There is a chill in the air, the winter fast approaching, leaves already dying and falling to the kerb.
‘Goodnight, Jack.’
‘See you soon, Maggie.’
I watch him walk along the road until the evening swallows the outline of his figure.
Only then do I let the air back out of my lungs.
* * *
Tess is curled up on the sofa, asleep, when I get back home. Bridget Jones is playing quietly in the background.
She looks out of place in my sitting room in her pale beige pyjamas and carefully highlighted blonde hair.
My small sitting room is a riot of colour.
The walls emerald green, the sofa a dark orange, warm colours contrasting with the perpetually cold temperature inside the room.
Above the sofa are postcards of places I will never travel to in the summer, not on my wages, and not without gloves and a coat.
I’ve always wanted to fill my home with things to look at, to enjoy. But now, it feels like they’re all symbols of a life I can never have.
‘Hey,’ she says, yawning. Her face falls as she takes in the time and my expression. I slump down next to her, taking off my gloves and throwing them across the room.
‘Want to talk about it?’ she asks.
‘Not really. I…’ Jack’s thoughts come back into my mind, and the image of the path outside the pub: What am I doing? This is too soon. I’m not ready.
‘He’s not ready. And he knows we can’t be anything… and I think I saw him thinking about the road outside the White Lion.’
‘That doesn’t mean anything, Mags. He might have fancied a pint.’
‘I know but I was only across the street when I—’
‘Just take a breath. Tell me what happened.’
‘Riz had a fall so we went to hers, and I wasn’t careful enough when I passed him his coat.
’ I rush on. ‘And then I saw him thinking about the pub and I heard that he wasn’t ready and I…
I hate lying to him, you know? And not just about the whole germ thing.
I know he’s not OK, and I think it was because of me that his life turned to shit, but I can’t tell him that without explaining that I’m, well, me—’
She sits up. ‘Take a breath, Mags. You don’t know any of this for certain.’
‘I know I’m lying to him.’
She pulls the cuffs of her pyjamas over her hands. ‘You’re not lying to him, you’re just not telling him everything yet. And has he told you the truth? Why his life is shit?’
‘Well… no.’
She holds out her hands like she’s balancing plates in a ‘there you go’ motion. ‘See? He’s got his own secrets too. You both need time.’
‘I told him we can only be friends.’
Her shoulders drop a little. ‘Being friends is a good place to start, I reckon.’
‘Maybe.’ I chew my thumbnail.
‘Although I was hoping you would have at least got to first base tonight.’
I give her a weak smile. ‘What and hear how I use too much tongue like I did with Luke?’
‘Luke was a tit, and you said yourself that he thought he was doing everything right when in fact he, as you so delicately put it, would knead your baps like Paul Hollywood on speed.’
‘True.’
I lean my head back on the sofa and tilt my head towards her. ‘Jack’s given me another book to read.’
She frowns. I catch a glimmer of the protectiveness she used to show when the girls at school would tease me. ‘What, like homework?’
‘No… he’s not like that… It’s something we do. I suggest a film; he recommends a book.’
‘Well that’s a start, isn’t it? He must want to see you again?’ She props her cheek on her hand. I’ve always admired Tess’s natural beauty. She could be on a skincare advert.
‘Yeah, we’re meeting again next Friday.’
‘You really like him, don’t you?’
I nod, my eyes hot, tears already pricking.
‘I should end it.’
‘It’s early days yet. We’ve all got shit that we don’t spill on the first few weeks of a relationship. Hot chocolate?’ she asks.
‘I’m out.’ I sniff and shake my head.
‘Oh ye of little faith. Brought supplies, didn’t I?’
She lands a quick kiss on my head as she gets up, so fleeting all I hear is:
I’m here.