Chapter Seven #2
In the end, Maddie concluded that the reasons behind what had almost happened didn’t really matter.
What had almost happened absolutely could not happen, so there was no point mulling it over.
She was quite sure letting James fuck her would be wonderful for her self-esteem.
She had been thrilled by his expressions of want — no man had ever made her feel so desirable — but it brought with it too many complications.
Sure, it would probably be good for her physical well-being — if the prologue was a prelude to the main event, then she was sure the epilogue would see her exhausted, fulfilled and thoroughly satisfied — but there was too much risk involved.
Broken hearts, bruised egos, the vapid predictability of their inevitable parting in a few months’ time.
She didn’t have the patience for any of it.
They had to work together, for crying out loud. She was his boss.
Once she had worked it all out in her head, Maddie drifted contentedly towards slumber. She lay on her side once more, her nose searching hopefully for the dulcet remnants of James’ sweet and soothing scent.
She found it, and slept deeply.
* * *
Her family let her sleep, and so she stayed in bed all day.
When she woke up it was dark and she felt refreshed, though she knew she’d struggle to go to bed at a proper time tonight.
That didn’t bother her too much. In fact, she quite liked having the house to herself at night-time.
She could put the fire on, pour herself a glass of wine and read her book in the quiet.
She checked the clock. It was 6 p.m. She pulled on her favourite pair of slouchy jeans and a jumper, and made her way downstairs in search of food.
“Hello, darling,” Ben said as she entered the kitchen.
He was sitting at the table eating a bowl of mashed potatoes and gravy.
Everybody else was nowhere to be seen. “Mum has taken Autumn, Marley and Ben home. We tried to encourage them to stay, but they wanted their own beds. Shall we put the Christmas tree up tomorrow? And the decorations?”
Maddie nodded. She helped herself to a glass of soya milk and sat down beside her father. He chewed thoughtfully, and she knew he had something to say.
“Spit it out, Dad,” she said. Her father turned to look at her, a slow grin spreading across his face.
Whenever he gave her this look, Maddie could not believe Ben was not Bowie’s and Marley’s biological father.
He had not entered their lives until they were seven years old and yet they’d adopted so many of his habits.
They’d always thrown her the very same look whenever they were going to say something they knew she wouldn’t like.
“Mum and I were going to tackle this conversation together,” Ben said. “We’re worried about you, love. Worried about leaving you here next spring, I mean. It’ll be awfully lonely...”
“Dad,” Maddie warned. “I’ve always been a loner, haven’t I? I could have friends if I wanted them, it’s just that I’m comfortable on my own.”
“You’ve never really been on your own, though, love. Not really. We’ve always been here. I know Autumn and Marley will still be around, but those two are lost in their own little world half the time. I’m just... worried.”
“I’ll be fine,” Maddie reiterated. She really meant it, too.
She knew it would be weird being here in this big house with staff and guests, but she was sure she would get used to it.
She’d be really busy making sure nobody had to go through the pain and indignity Bowie had suffered.
By the time she added spending time with Marley, Autumn and Benjamin into her life, she’d have hardly any time left to be lonely, she was sure of it.
“You’ve always been very family-orientated, my love,” Ben said. “My quiet and introverted little girl. I just wish you had a friend or two to confide in, you know? I’d feel better about leaving you if I thought there were people you could spend time with.”
“Dad, you don’t have any friends,” Maddie pointed out. “Neither does Mum, really. Your whole life revolves around this family, it always has. And you’re OK.”
“We have each other,” Ben said. “But even still, the older we get, the more we realise that’s not OK. That’s my point. Mum and I both wish we had more friends, that’s part of the reason we’ve decided to go travelling. To meet new people, get out there a little bit more.”
Maddie was surprised at this admission. She’d never heard her parents lament their friendless existence. She had always assumed they were content with the way things were. Her father’s disclosure made her heart sink. Her poor dad. She wondered how long he’d been lonely and kept it from her.
“Now, don’t get me wrong,” he continued. “Your mum is my best friend in the entire world, and you kids are everything to me. But there’s something friendship brings to your life that family doesn’t, and it shouldn’t be underestimated.”
“Maybe I’ll make friends when we recruit staff for the recovery retreat,” Maddie said, forcing a hopeful tone. Her father looked doubtful, and she was desperate to appease him. “Or at the book club I just joined.”
“You’ve joined a book club?” Ben asked. His face brightened a little bit, so Maddie felt obliged to expand on the lie. “Yeah. It’s at the Duck Inn. In fact, I’m heading there right now.”
Maddie marched over to the coat rack and picked up Bowie’s jacket and her scarf.
She’d been looking forward to a quiet night in, but that was off the cards now.
Emma and Ben had quite obviously been discussing this in depth between the two of them, and probably with Marley and Autumn.
When her mum got back, they would ambush her and force her to talk.
Her social battery had not yet recharged, and she needed some time alone.
“Oh, excellent!” Ben said. “Do you want a lift down there so you can have a drink?”
“It’s fine, I’m not drinking this time,” Maddie said. “I want to keep my sober head on.”
“Sensible girl,” Ben said.
“I’m a woman,” Maddie reminded him. He rolled his eyes and apologised, turning pointedly back to his mashed potato. “I’ll be back later.” Maddie bid him goodbye.
“Don’t you need your book?” He stopped her just as she was about to leave.
Maddie internally chastised herself. Her dad was no fool and it would certainly cross his mind now that she was lying.
Maddie did her best impression of a woman who’d made an honest mistake and headed for the bookshelf in the kitchen.
She pretended she was looking for something specific and then selected a random book.
Call Me by Your Name by André Aciman. It wasn’t the book she was in the middle of reading, but it would do.
She waved it at her father and headed for the door. He nodded, watching her leave.
Her mum had taken the estate car, so Maddie clambered ungracefully into her parents’ 4x4, silently thanking the universe for thawing out the village.
The roads were free of both ice and cars, so she felt comfortable driving.
She even dared steal a glance at the odd Christmas display as she passed by quaint gardens lit up with Santa-shaped ornaments and prancing mesh reindeer silhouettes.
Despite the fact her hand had been forced by her desire to avoid a difficult conversation with her parents, she was quite looking forward to a night in the pub now that she was on her way.
As she parked up and headed inside, she silently prayed that her favourite seat — the squishy armchair right by the fire — would be free.
She knew, somehow, that it would be, and she was right.
There was barely anyone in the pub, a couple of men on their own at the bar, and three women chatting by the window.
Maddie ordered a small glass of red wine, curled her legs up under herself and settled in for a night of reading, pausing for a moment to admire the seasonal decorations — the most impressive of which was a real tree.
It was host to an immense number of baubles and a monumental amount of tinsel.
It appeared to be leaning to one side under the weight of the decorations.
Maddie smiled, turning her attention to her book.
She was only a few lines into her new novel when she was distracted by a nearby conversation.
The women in the window were gossiping away animatedly, gasping and giggling their way through some sort of debrief.
“His older brother was killed in a car accident.”
“I thought Harry was younger.”
“No, he was older, I’m sure of it.”
“Is that why he looks so brooding all the time?”
Maddie tried her hardest to ignore them, but she knew who they were talking about.
This was an incredibly small village. It was highly unlikely there were two brooding men with a brother named Harry who had been killed in a car accident.
She wished she’d brought her headphones with her, but the women were less than twelve feet away, and they were hardly being discreet.
There was no way to ignore them, especially as they were talking about somebody she knew.
She had no choice but to listen. The women continued.
“He is brooding, isn’t he? Perhaps that is why.”
“Carry on with the story, please. He took you out, you were supposed to see him last night, he had some excuse...”
“Yes, he said he needed to help out a friend. He said he’d see me tonight, instead. Then he texts me today calling the whole thing off.”
“How irritating.”
“It’s his loss.”
“I’m not sure it is, actually. He was the only eligible bachelor in the entire village. Plus, he was truly spectacular in the sack.”