Chapter 2
Retirement was a beautiful thing, Maxine thought – a beginning, not an end.
Her desk was covered with thank-you cards, flowers, chocolates, so many wonderful wishes.
It was her last day and, in truth, she wasn’t sure how she felt.
She’d been looking forward to retirement for so long, but she realised with a bump that she hadn’t really worked out what she wanted to do with it.
Russell had said, ‘We’ll have more time for each other,’ and that had seemed to define her future. It would be spent with Russell. Holidays. Walks. Cooking. Conversation.
Russell had been lovely this morning: he’d held her hand over breakfast, laid the table with coffee, pastries, fruit, and wished her a wonderful retirement day.
All traces of his insecurity the previous evening had vanished.
Maxine had wanted to linger at home, but she’d put on her work face, her suit, her heels, and set off on the Tube for the last time.
Russell had told her he’d booked a table for them both tonight at the Tsunami Clapham, one of her favourite places.
She was looking forward to the new feeling of freedom, the peace of not having to work.
So what was tugging at her, beneath the surface? What worry was scratching away? She sat at her desk, puzzled.
There was a light touch on her shoulder, and a soft voice murmured, ‘Penny for them, Ms Sweet?’
Maxine swivelled round in her chair to see Gráinne Brady from Events Management. She was thirty-something, with a mass of red hair piled high, dangling turquoise earrings, holding out a glass of fizz.
Maxine asked, ‘What’s this?’
‘Lunch is served. Food’s arrived. Everyone’s ready. We just need the star of the show.’
‘What?’ Maxine hadn’t expected a surprise lunch but, as Gráinne dragged her into the main office, she gasped in surprise.
Twenty people had gathered, the room had been decorated with balloons and banners, and a glorious spread had been placed on a table in the centre.
Maxine said, ‘Oh, wow – thanks, Gráinne.’
‘My pleasure,’ Gráinne said. ‘I’m losing a boss but I’m not losing my touch.’ She nodded, a sign to begin. Champagne corks popped and people cheered.
Maxine looked around at smiling faces. There were so many colleagues she’d miss: Jacinta, Cat, Ben, Jonas from Fundraising, Adjoa the intern.
Si, who tidied her desk when she wasn’t looking and always kept her coffee cup filled.
Philly, who brought in muffins each day.
And Mercedes, who was taking over her role. She gave a light cough.
‘I’m not one for speeches but…’
There were cheers. Si made a rude noise. Cat blew a kiss.
‘…but I’m going to miss you all. And I won’t pop into the office to check on you, I promise.
Retirement means retirement. But we’ll stay in touch.
You’ve been more than colleagues. Friends…
’ Maxine was surprised to feel a lump of sadness in her throat.
She swallowed it. ‘The Hopeful Group will go from strength to strength. It’s in your hands.
’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’ll wake up tomorrow and wonder what I’m doing with the rest of my life, and that’s a good thing.
’ She heard the note of disbelief in her own voice.
‘It’s been lovely, sharing this place with you. I love you all.’
Applause and cheers erupted again. Gráinne was holding a little silver cloth bag.
‘We bought you this.’
Maxine took the gift bag and delved inside. Her fingers touched a black box. Inside was a gold necklace with a pearl pendant. The inscription read, The world is your oyster.
Gráinne said, ‘We could have got you a watch or a photo album but…’
Tears glistened in Maxine’s eyes. ‘I’ll cherish it – it’s perfect.’
Gráinne kissed her cheek. ‘You’re just the best, Max. And don’t forget – we’re meeting for drinks at Henry’s Bar on Sunday.’
Gráinne’s words hung on the air for a moment, then Mercedes held up her champagne glass, tapping it with a pen.
‘So, everyone.’ She looked around the room.
With her dark hair, glasses, an efficient manner and so much experience in communications, thirty-something Mercedes was the perfect person to become the new director.
‘I want to say cheers and best wishes to our wonderful Max. Sweet by name—’
‘And sweet by nature,’ everyone chorused, glasses raised.
More champagne corks popped and Mercedes said, ‘Lunch is on our CEO – Barbara has a meeting – she says to start now and she’ll be along soon. Dig in, everyone.’
Maxine sipped more champagne and reached for a canapé. This was it. She was retired. She heard her phone buzz in her bag. A message from Russell.
Don’t forget our meal tonight, Max. This is our time. I can’t wait.
Maxine thumbed a reply.
I’ll be back late. Celebration lunch. Then the wine bar. I might meet you at the restaurant.
She added emojis – a champagne bottle, glasses, two kisses, and pressed send. The reply came back almost immediately.
Yes, meet me there. Enjoy your last day. You deserve it.
Maxine was about to reply with a thumbs up but Gráinne was at her shoulder, refilling her glass, insisting that she put the necklace on. Maxine lifted her hair – she was only too happy to oblige.
At around three o’clock, the office was almost empty.
Most of the youngsters had adjourned to a wine bar, and Maxine had said she might follow.
A few stragglers sat at desks, finishing the last bit of work before logging off and sloping towards the door.
Maxine was talking to Barbara, the CEO, who had arrived with an armful of flowers.
Neat in a cream trouser suit, Barbara was perched on a desk, her legs crossed, recounting the first day she and Maxine had met and how she’d been immediately impressed with her energy.
‘Energetic people are fantastically committed to getting the job done. They are good at multitasking and make decisions quickly.’ Barbara finished the last bubbles in her glass. ‘I always say high-energy employees have two ears and one mouth.’
‘As opposed to what?’ Maxine teased.
‘Oh, you wouldn’t believe the number of people who talk non-stop and don’t listen,’ Barbara said. ‘Someone with energy can be full of curiosity, inspiration, creativity, even excitement. That makes the whole team work better.’
Maxine loved Barbara for her positivity, her kindness.
Barbara put down her drink with a thud. ‘Is that the time? Oh God. I have a meeting at three-thirty. I’ve been talking to Robert Beugré Mambé’s PA for weeks and finally I’m going to talk to the man himself about what we’re doing at The Hopeful Group.
He’s coming to London next month and I’m desperate to meet him – I better polish my French. ’
‘I could help. Mine’s pretty good,’ Maxine offered, a twinkle in her eye. ‘And I need a job now.’
‘No, you don’t,’ Barbara said firmly, patting her hand. ‘Your time’s yours from now on. Use it well.’ She met Maxine’s eyes, a glint in her sharp blue ones. ‘I mean it, Max. You deserve some joy.’
Maxine wondered exactly what she meant. She was about to ask, when Gráinne came over with a wave and said, ‘That’s it. Lunch is over. Silvia and the team are here to clear the space and I’ve told her to take all the leftover cake home. She has five kids.’
Barbara said, ‘Must dash – I’ll text,’ and she was already rushing for the door.
‘Right.’ Maxine took a last look around the office, wondering how she felt. No immediate answer came back. No sense of regret or sadness. She was ready to go.
‘Shall we hit the wine bar?’ Gráinne asked.
‘No, I’ll give it a miss.’ Maxine had changed her mind. ‘I think I’ll go home. I’m out to dinner tonight. If I drink any more, I’ll be legless by the time I get to the restaurant.’
‘Good point,’ Gráinne said. ‘I’m meeting Dylan and I don’t want to be off my face either. The big seduction’s on the cards tonight.’
‘Well, good luck with that.’ Maxine opened her arms for a hug. ‘Thanks, Gráinne. I’ll miss all this.’
‘No, you won’t.’ Gráinne’s eyes shone with tears. ‘You’ll be in your element, fit, fabulous, and we’ll meet up for drinks, and I’ll tell you all my news and you can sort my love life out…’
‘You won’t have any problems – Dylan sounds perfect.’
‘But you’ve always given me such good advice – and I’ve been hopeless. I pick the wrong men,’ Gráinne said.
‘We’ll turn a new page over together,’ Maxine soothed. ‘You and Dylan, me and Russell. Everything will be fine.’
‘Is he still clingy?’ Gráinne asked. ‘That man worships you.’
Maxine smiled. ‘Hopefully my retirement will suit us both.’ She wrapped an arm around Gráinne. ‘Time to go. I’m desperate for a long soak in a hot bath.’
Maxine walked towards the exit door and down the stairs that led to the street below. She wouldn’t bother texting Russell – she’d be home in a jiffy. The rumble of traffic hit her ears, the heaviness of polluted outdoor air. The Tube station was five minutes away. She didn’t look back.
Maxine’s key turned in the lock and she closed the door softly. Russ was in: his jacket was hung up and his keys were on the hook. She almost shouted that she was home, but something stopped her. She’d no idea what.
In the lounge, she stood still and held her breath. There it was, that sound. It came from the bedroom, hers and Russell’s, not the spare. There were two things she could do: investigate the sound or not investigate it. Holding her breath, she strained her ears to listen.
There it was again: a soft gasp. A woman’s. The unmistakable sound of passion. A creak. Bedsprings.
Maxine put a hand to her mouth to stop herself from calling out.
Russell?
Who else could it be?
There was a pair of shoes discarded outside the bedroom door. Scarlet ones. Of course they would be. Maxine crept over like a spy and picked one up. It was almost new. Satin finish. The unmistakable signature of Christian Louboutin printed inside.
The noise again, a man’s insistent grunt, a woman’s moan. Maxine pressed her lips together and asked herself how she felt about betrayal. Surprisingly, she didn’t feel shocked or hurt. She felt cool and calm.
She slipped off her own shoes – Age of Innocence, velvet green, size 39 – and walked on silent feet into the kitchen.
She filled the kettle, placed a peppermint teabag in a china mug, and took a breath.
The whistling of the kettle, the thrum of the bubbling water gave her a sense of calmness and satisfaction.
She poured the tea, waited for the flavour to infuse, deposited the bag in the bin and took her cup to the living room.
Maxine sat on the sofa, raised her feet, made herself comfortable. The little noises had stopped. There was silence. Maxine wriggled her toes and cradled the hot drink. Her eyes were fastened on the bedroom door.
She was ready.
A woman was suddenly chirruping, making endearing sounds, and the man’s reply was low.
Russell sounded tired. He grunted again and Maxine heard the woman say, ‘Shall I get us a drink?’ Russell gave a short retort; Maxine thought he said something about having to go out later. The woman’s next words were clear.
‘Oh, let’s have a G there was the muted sound of movement, shuffling.
Maxine inhaled, ready. The woman giggled from the bedroom, the door opened abruptly and Joanna Clayton stood in the doorway, oblivious.
Her hair was ruffled and her legs bare. She tied the belt of Maxine’s dressing gown, the black silk kimono Russell had bought for her birthday a year ago, and called back, ‘Has she got juniper berries? I like those—’ Jo turned, stopping dead. ‘Max.’
‘Jo,’ Maxine said simply.
‘What – I mean – how long have you been there?’
‘I just got back from work. I retired today.’ Maxine sipped her tea. The air stung with the sharpness of the silence. Jo had no idea what to say and Maxine had no intention of helping her.
Jo clung to the kimono. Maxine’s kimono. She stammered, ‘Russ, can you—?’
Russell clearly had had the presence of mind to pull on his boxer shorts and was now standing at the door behind Jo. Maxine’s gaze took in the tangle of dark hair on his chest, the pale legs.
He stood still for a moment, then he looked from Jo to Maxine. It was as if he was making a decision. He said, ‘Max, I wasn’t expecting you home early.’
‘I can see that.’ Maxine laughed. Once. Then her voice was ice cool. It gave her a tingle of pleasure to hear how calm she sounded. ‘Russell, Jo, why don’t you go and put some clothes on? I’ll make us that G & T. Then we can have a chat…’