Chapter 40
MAGGIE
I climb the stairs, follow the hallway until I find the room with the pink door and push it open. I wonder if downstairs, they’re all imagining me dousing myself in antibac.
There is a small step down into the room.
It’s chaotic, paints and canvases, an easel by the window, bright clothes scattered over the bed and floor.
It smells of Charlotte’s perfume, something floral with an undertone of patchouli.
I close the door behind me and lean against it, heart jackhammering in my chest.
I tread towards her vanity unit and sit down. I’m pale; my hair is a disaster. I try and fail to untangle it.
Behind me, there are yet more family photos on the walls. I get up and lean into them, smiling at a younger Jack, at the three siblings with arms around each other. There are a few photos of the shiners, of a younger Charl, surrounded by friends, tongues sticking out, raising shots.
I move along to a recent photo of her blowing out birthday candles. I lean closer. Jack is in the background, arm around a shoulder.
I know who she is from the few details Jack has shared with me.
She’s tall. Almost as tall as him, long gleaming blonde hair, the glint of an engagement ring on her finger.
She has a slim frame like she might have been a ballet dancer or a Gwyneth Paltrow lookalike: Vicky.
I take another deep breath thinking of her being welcomed into the family the same way as I have.
Did Charl want to hug her because she looked huggable?
There are a few more family photos of this time, Vicky in three of them, her lying on Jack’s lap on the beach, peering over her sunglasses.
The next one is here, outside on the patio.
Charl is the focus of the photo again, red hair blowing in the wind, but behind her, Jack and Vicky.
He has his arms around her, and they look like they’re about to kiss.
My finger reaches out and outlines his profile.
I’ve seen the way Jack is looking at her, because it’s the same way he looks at me.
My phone vibrates in my pocket.
Tess
So how’s it going? What are they like?
What are they like? Wonderful, welcoming, too good to be true.
Maggie
Lovely. But a LOT.
Tess
Nipped off for a quickie in the downstairs loo yet?
I shake my head. Not only is Tess thrilled that I’ve finally slept with Jack but she seems insistent on suggesting places to shag before the excitement flags.
I can’t ever imagine not being excited to touch him.
Maggie
Get your mind out of the gutter.
Tess
Never… You OK?
Maggie
Yeah. It’s just overwhelming. And…
I think Jack might be in love with me. I think I might be—
A loud ‘Hiya!’ rips through the house. I delete the ‘and’, hit send, give the photos one last glance and take a deep breath. Closing the door on Jack and Vicky.
My hand trails along the banister. Loud chatter and eager clacking of plates and crockery are coming from the kitchen.
I step forwards. The table is laden with food on brightly coloured dishes: chicken wings, corn on the cob, baked potatoes, little bowls piled with colourful rice, pasta…
There is more choice here than I’ve experienced before.
The buffet-style vibe mimics the room: chaotic, warm. Slightly terrifying.
At the far end of the table, Jack is hugging a man, back-clapping him affectionately. He has blond hair, and an air of Oxbridge boat race about him.
‘Maggie, this is George.’
Jack turns, his arm still looped around his brother’s neck.
‘Hi! Good to meet you.’ George charges over, arms wide. Jack is shaking hands with another man – tall, scruffy brown hair, glasses – who I’ve gathered is Kieran, his boyfriend.
I jolt backwards, my spine bumping into a chair, sending it clattering to the floor. I scramble to correct it. Despite the sound that stops conversation, and the way they are all looking over at me, George slows, smiles and picks up the chair.
‘Sorry—’ I say, flustered.
‘Not to worry, you’re not part of the family unless you’ve broken something.’
My cheeks heat, and I apologise again, which he dismisses with a wave of his hand. There is a spark in his eyes, a natural flirtatious way about him.
‘So you’re the one,’ he says.
‘Sorry?’
‘The one who brought my miserable git of a brother back into the land of the living.’
The rest of lunch goes by without further incident, the air swollen with interruptions, stories and jokes.
I sit quietly next to Jack. He’s moved his chair slightly further away from me. I try not to read too much into this, but part of me wonders what was said in the library.
I hold my elbows in as I reach for something that looks like rice but is dotted with pomegranate seeds. Across the table, I catch Greta giggling and picking up a straw, her eyes on Jack. She copies his movements as he sucks his straw, a crouton being held at the edge. She giggles and does the same.
He’s so completely natural with her. I don’t know how to imitate this ease, or crack this secret code that they all seem to know.
Jack nods, while giving Charl surreptitious glances, but she’s talking loudly and pointing a bread roll at her father, while telling him he’s wrong about a line in a popular novel.
Jack mouths one… two… sucks the crouton back up and then blows it across the table at his sister.
‘Jack!’
Greta folds herself double, her laughter bubbling up out of her as she tries to replicate his actions again, her eyebrows pinched in concentration.
‘Great.’ Charl throws down her napkin. ‘I can’t wait to get my own revenge when you have kids.’
Jack grimaces at Greta, but they share a look of mischief before he replies, ‘My kids will behave impeccably, not like these two little monsters!’ He growls at Greta, who giggles.
My kids.
I take a sip of elderflower cordial, the taste dry but too sweet on my tongue. Seeing him around his family, the way that he’s such a part of them is so different to the man he is when he’s with me, different but somehow supercharged. He will make a wonderful father, but—
My thoughts are interrupted by George standing, clinking the side of his glass. The room hushes.
‘So… I’ve invited us all here because as you all know, somehow I’ve managed to land myself with one of the kindest, most gorgeous men on the planet.
’ He looks down at Kieran with love in his eyes.
‘And for reasons that I cannot fathom, he seems to feel the same way about me.’ He holds up his left hand where a platinum ring sits on his engagement finger. ‘We’re getting married!’
The whole room erupts, claps and cheers, seats pushed back as they all hug and shake hands.
I don’t know what to do with myself other than to smile and say congratulations from my seat and tentatively take a glass of champagne once the corks start popping.
‘I have an idea!’ Charl leans forward, dipping a breadstick into a pot of something that I think might be hummus. ‘We should have a party! Tonight!’
My stomach jolts, my hand drawing the glass close to my chest. I want to look at Jack, to tell him this is too much, but I can’t do that.
They should have a party if they want to, and he should be here, celebrating with his family, not being forced to run away from it. I’m the one who should be leaving.
‘Actually, we’re going to get going—’ Jack interrupts, taking his seat, but I don’t miss the way he leans away from me slightly.
The room feels like its closing in.
‘Oh, don’t be a spoilsport, Jack. You don’t mind, do you Mags?’ Charl looks over at me. ‘You can borrow one of my outfits. I have the perfect thing for you…’ and she begins rattling off about a white lace dress that will fit me.
Jack jumps in, ‘Charl—’
But I find myself forcing an expression full of excitement. Not forcing exactly, because no matter how terrifying this all is, isn’t this everything that I’ve wanted?
‘How about it, Mags? I promise to clean everything twice and I’ll keep your food separate.
The weather’s clearing so we can have some of it outdoors.
Dad?’ she interrupts his animated conversation with the soon-to-be newly-weds.
‘The patio heaters are all working, aren’t they?
There’ll be plenty of space outside if you need to escape… ’
‘I… well, I suppose—’
I look to Jack and around the room, expectant faces poised in my direction.
‘Sounds great!’ I take a large gulp of champagne. When I look at Jack, even though he’s smiling, there is tension in his expression as Charl leans in, talking more and more about preparations for the party, and asking for my opinions.
‘And wait until you meet everyone; they are going to adore you. Just a few friends. Promise.’