Chapter 5
‘Bloody hell, Max – has all this happened since Friday afternoon?’ Gráinne’s eyes were huge with disbelief when they met later that same day. ‘You don’t hang around.’
‘It was inevitable. I ought to have seen it coming.’
‘Russell and Jo?’
‘No, us splitting up.’ Maxine sipped white wine and reached for an olive.
‘Bloody hell,’ Gráinne said again. ‘Who’d have thought Russ would have done that? And with your friend.’ She raised her voice over the excited noise of so many chattering customers. The wine bar was packed and it wasn’t yet eight.
Maxine shrugged. There wasn’t much she could add. Russell had gone now. She had considered ringing Jo to make the first conciliatory move. Maxine imagined what she would say. There were no hard feelings. Briefly she wondered if Jo had told Terry yet, and how he had reacted.
‘So what are you going to do?’ Gráinne asked.
‘Do?’
‘About Russell. Will you get back with him? I’d at least think about it. I’m always getting dumped. So when I do, I cheer myself up. I buy new clothes, go on a bender, eat cream cakes.’
Maxine said, ‘I do all of those when I want to. I don’t need to wait to get dumped.’
‘You’re amazing. You just have so much bounce-back-ability. So – my love life…’ Gráinne grabbed her arm. ‘Right – the big seduction that I’d planned, Friday night, me and the gorgeous Dylan.’
‘Did it happen?’
‘No-o-o-o.’ Gráinne laughed. ‘I had to change plans completely. He came round with Cian, his son. He’s a sweet little kid, six and a half.
Of course, that completely ruined any chance of luring the lovely man into my smouldering boudoir.
We ended up on the sofa, eating ice cream and watching Captain Underpants on telly.
’ She pulled a disappointed face. ‘Not at all the kind of underpants I’d intended to get into that evening, but hey. ’
‘So what’s next?’
‘For me and Dylan?’
‘And Cian.’
‘We’re getting together on Wednesday evening – me and Dylan, that is. Cian’s with Tania, the horrible ex. I’m inviting him round for a chicken supper, sticky toffee pudding, the works. Then afterwards…’
‘Afterwards?’
‘I’m leaving the heating on full. It’ll be like a sauna in my little flat and I’ll be, “Oh, it’s so-o-o-o hot in here, Dylan – I need to remove a layer or two.
” I’ll be in my sexiest bra and panties and I’ll say, “You look hot, Dylan – wouldn’t you be better without that big jumper – and that shirt – and those tight jeans?
”’ Gráinne gave a belly laugh. ‘That’s my wicked plan. ’
‘Good luck with that,’ Maxine said.
‘And what about you?’
‘Me?’
‘Aren’t you feeling lonely? Oh – Dylan’s dad’s single. Perhaps he’d like a blind date. Shall I ask?’
‘No,’ Maxine said. ‘I’m not on the market. I need a break.’
‘From relationships?’
‘From love in any shape or form. I’m too cynical.’
‘Ah, there’s someone out there for you.’
‘I’m not sure I want someone out there.’
‘But you’re retired, Max. What will you do with yourself?’
‘I can take up a hobby. Get fit. Learn a language. Paint.’
‘Life drawing? Naked men?’
‘Don’t you ever think of anything else?’
‘Not often.’ Gráinne laughed. ‘Why don’t you go on holiday?’
‘Where would I go?’
‘I’d go on a singles cruise.’ Gráinne’s eyes sparkled. ‘Just saying.’
‘Someone else suggested a holiday. I suppose a break might be nice.’ Maxine thought about it. ‘Springtime makes me think of France. Andy and I went to Brittany several times. We cycled and swam in the sea.’
‘Would you go back?’
‘Like a shot.’
‘To think about Andy?’
‘To think about myself.’ Maxine was surprised at her own words. ‘Brittany’s peaceful – the turquoise sea, the big open sky.’
‘Right.’ Gráinne pulled out her phone. ‘I knew this woman before I joined the HG. I ran an event for her years ago – she sold the best frilly knickers. We stayed in touch. The last I heard, she’d retired and bought herself a cottage in Brittany.
I think she rents it out. I have her email somewhere. ’
‘Oh, there’s no need.’
‘There is – you need a break,’ Gráinne said firmly.
‘Look.’ She brought up a photograph and in an instant, Maxine was standing inside the old cottage with the billowing curtains, looking out onto miles of sandy beach.
In the distance, the waves rolled in and the setting sun streaked the sky purple. She caught her breath.
‘That’s Clotilde’s Cottage. In Plouvannec, Brittany,’ Gráinne said. ‘It belongs to Fliss Beaumont. Shall I forward you her contacts?’
‘Thanks.’ The cottage had imprinted itself in Maxine’s mind. The sea already tugged at her heart. Plouvannec might be just the place to spend a week or two.
She turned to Gráinne with a grin. ‘Do you want another Pinot?’ Gráinne’s glass had been empty for a while. ‘Let’s get a bottle – order some food. You can tell me all about Dylan and how you’re going to win his heart.’
‘Oh, it’s not his heart I’m after,’ Gráinne said, her eyes twinkling. ‘But he definitely has a lot of other things going for him…’
The wail of a siren from the main road drifted through the slight opening in the bedroom window.
Maxine opened her eyes. It was almost three o’clock.
Her first thought was of Andy, of the siren outside their window, the flashing lights.
Her second thought was that if she were lying in bed in Clotilde’s Cottage now, she’d probably hear nothing but the murmur of the sea.
Not that she minded the sound of London traffic all day and night; it was reassuring, vibrant even.
She was used to it, and the yellow haze that hung in the sky all night, and the fact that she seldom looked at the stars.
She imagined herself lying on a beach in the dark, gazing up at the constellations, trying to name them. Just as she and Andy had done years ago.
Perhaps going back to Brittany might bring back the pain of losing him all over again.
Or perhaps she would heal. Perhaps there might be closure.
It was already Monday morning, her first day of retirement.
Stretching out an arm, she picked up her phone from the side of the bed and gazed at the photos Gráinne had sent.
Clotilde’s little cottage nestled in a driveway, set back from the road, at the edge of the beach.
She studied the rugged coastline. The golden sand that stretched to the ocean that stretched to the azure sky.
If she closed her eyes, she’d hear Andy’s voice calling, he’d take her hand and they’d run into the waves, splashing.
She rolled over in bed, owning the whole space, and closed her eyes. Within moments, she was fast asleep. The sound of another siren drifted on the air, but Maxine was dreaming of a small cottage with billowing curtains.
The next morning Maxine was standing at the Tube station. She’d made up her mind to sort things out today. There was a house call she needed to make. It was important to do it as soon as possible, then tick it off the list.
The Tube that would take her to Putney Bridge came almost immediately.
The whole journey wouldn’t be much more than half an hour, then a five-minute walk to the house.
Maxine had considered taking her car. The little Honda e hadn’t moved from the car parking space she rented a few streets away since – when?
Two weeks ago, when she and Russell had travelled to Basingstoke to see his sister and her husband.
Maxine took a deep breath. There would be so many people she needed to tell that she and Russell were over. But first things first.
The rattling carriage slowed and Maxine made her way out of the Underground and into the bright busy street. She asked herself if she was feeling apprehensive and immediately knew she wasn’t. There was just something she needed to do.
Smartly, her heels tapping on the pavement, Maxine crossed the road and made her way to Ranelagh Avenue.
She paused near the house, a white-fronted semi, bay windows, a red door beneath an arched porch.
It all looked very normal from the outside – she wondered what emotional time bomb might be ticking inside.
Or if anyone was at home. She hoped so: she hadn’t wanted to text first. Face to face felt more honest.
She rang the bell.
While she was waiting, an idea occurred to her. This was Terry and Jo’s home, but what if Russell was there? Maxine decided that it didn’t matter; she was here to tie up loose ends, to say her piece kindly, then she’d go. It didn’t matter who was in the audience.
She rang again, and in a moment she could see the shape of someone approaching through the glass. The door opened and Terry looked at her; he was miserable.
Maxine said, ‘Hello.’
Terry’s expression said everything. He knew. His heart was broken. ‘You’d better come in.’
He was examining her expression to see if she was angry; Maxine thought she’d put him at his ease with a smile. ‘How are you?’
He shook his head. ‘Bearing up.’
She said, ‘Russell’s staying in a hotel.’
‘I know. Jo rang him.’
‘Is she in?’
Terry rolled his eyes and Maxine felt sorry for him. He said, ‘I suppose we’d better do this.’
Maxine followed him into a comfortable living room. There were shelves of books, a marble fireplace with a vase of flowers where the fire might have been a century ago. A family photo above on the feature wall. A display cabinet. Terry and Jo’s home. They had been happy here once.
Jo was slumped on the sofa. She looked up as Maxine came in and said, ‘Hello. I wondered when you’d come round.’
‘I don’t want an argument, Jo,’ Maxine said brightly.
‘Do you want coffee, Max?’ Terry asked.
‘It wasn’t meant to be a social call.’
‘It’ll give me something to do,’ Terry mumbled sadly.
‘Then yes, please.’ Maxine watched Terry shamble towards the kitchen, then she sat down on a green velvet chair. ‘How are you, Jo?’
Jo rubbed her tired face. ‘I feel like my life’s over.’ She exhaled, a shuddering sound. ‘I’m so sorry, Max.’
‘I don’t want to make this about me,’ Maxine said honestly. ‘I’m here to tell you that Russell and I had probably run our course.’
Jo looked up sharply. ‘That’s not what he told me.’
‘We’ve split up,’ Maxine said gently. ‘It’s over. But – what about you?’
‘I think I love him,’ Jo said sadly. ‘And he loves you. And Terry loves me. It’s the eternal triangle – with four corners.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘If you and Russell want to be together, I’m not in the picture. I wanted to tell you that,’ Maxine said quietly. ‘Or – can you and Terry save your marriage? You’ve been together a long time.’
‘We have.’ Jo closed her eyes briefly. ‘But things had got a bit stale. Russ was my last chance at happiness.’
‘In what way?’ Maxine didn’t understand.
‘Terry and I were just rubbing along. Russ pays me compliments; he’s attentive. We flirted. He encouraged that.’
‘He did.’ Maxine agreed.
‘He bought me this for my birthday.’ Jo fingered the single diamond she wore around her neck.
‘I didn’t know he’d bought you a present.’
‘It was our secret – he said I was special. I came round to say thanks the day after. I knew you’d be at work, but you got home early.’
‘I did.’ Maxine turned as Terry came in with a tray, three cups of coffee, an unopened packet of chocolate digestives. Maxine thought how sadly normal it looked, three friends sharing elevenses.
He placed the tray on the floor and plonked himself in a chair, muttering, ‘What a mess.’ He wasn’t referring to the coffee he’d just slopped.
Maxine helped out. ‘You need to talk to each other. Terry, Jo, maybe this is a rough patch. I don’t know.
It’s not my business.’ She took a deep breath.
‘What I want to say is that I’m out of the equation.
So whatever you decide to do…’ She almost said, ‘knock yourselves out’, but that sounded dismissive.
She chose her words more carefully. ‘You have my support. I’ve been friends with you both for some time. I don’t want to lose you.’
‘The problem is—’ Terry took off his glasses and cleaned them ‘—Jo doesn’t want me any more. She wants to be with Russ.’
‘I rang him twice yesterday, once this morning. He won’t answer my calls.’ Jo was miserable. ‘We slept together once. I admitted it to Terry. It was what I thought I wanted. But now Russell’s treating me like rubbish.’
‘I’m not impressed with either of them.’ Terry’s voice was stronger now. ‘I told Jo when we were first married that everything in our relationship was negotiable except fidelity. I don’t like the idea of flirting and giving presents behind my back. I can’t respect that.’
‘But you and Jo could still make a go of it,’ Maxine said.
Terry didn’t look hopeful. ‘If she wants Russell, she can go to him.’ He stared through the window as if Jo weren’t there.
‘Terry doesn’t want me back,’ Jo wailed. ‘Do you, Terry?’
‘I don’t know what I want.’ Terry was still gazing outside. A sparrow hovered near the window and fluttered away.
‘It’s not going to be easy.’ Maxine drank her coffee. It tasted bitter. She looked from Terry to Jo and felt the huge gulf between them. The way back would be difficult. But she couldn’t be involved.
She’d said her piece. It was time to leave.