An Unexpected Question
A second bottle of champagne later, Flick and Maggie had finished answering all of George’s numerous questions.
‘That’s all happened in a week?’ Letting out a low whistle, he rubbed his temples, sweeping his dark hair off his forehead. ‘I’ve barely had time to do my laundry and go to the gym. You must be exhausted.’
But Maggie shook her head. ‘You know the funny thing? I was more tired sitting in my caravan all day, doing nothing.’
‘Yeah, me too,’ agreed Flick. ‘I felt the same sitting at my desk at work.’
‘I have to say, you both look pretty fabulous considering. Especially you.’ He nodded at Maggie. ‘Flying here, I was worried it was going to be less of a birthday celebration and more of a rescue mission to bring you back home. I mean, seriously, the last time we WhatsApped you looked terrible.’
‘Thanks, George. I’ll take that as a compliment.’
‘Anytime,’ he winked.
‘But I am going home tomorrow. I’ve decided. This is my last night.’
There were a few looks around the table, but Maggie’s mind was made up.
‘Well, in that case, it’s even more reason to go out and celebrate.’
‘I thought we were celebrating with the champagne?’ said Flick.
‘No, darling, that was just to get you lubricated,’ quipped George.
‘And I could have you arrested for sexual harassment,’ she fired back, and they both laughed, ‘and that’s not a double entendre.’
Flick and George had already decided they liked each other and were happily riffing off each other.
‘Look, I don’t need to do anything for my birthday . . .’
But George was on a roll. ‘You’re fifty! You’re fabulous! And we’re in Valencia! This demands much more than a boring birthday bikini selfie!’
That second bottle of champagne was beginning to take effect.
Turning to Maggie, he cupped her face in his hands, and spoke with the same intensity as if he was performing Hamlet with Yorick’s skull. ‘Do you know what this city is famous for?’
Seriously, George really should have been on the stage.
‘Two of my favourite things! Paella and street art.’
It turned out to be true and not just the drunken declarations of a man who’d had one too many glasses of champagne on an empty stomach.
Valencia was indeed famous for a perfect double whammy of delicious food and free art.
It was a kind of culinary artistry. And after the most mouth-watering and flavoursome dinner of paella de mariscos – a giant pan of yellow saffron rice, filled with monkfish, king prawns and mussels, which the three of them shared, heaping their plates high and scraping the burned bits off the bottom until their waistbands threatened to burst – they left the rowdy family-run restaurant to walk off their full stomachs and admire the amazing street art.
‘Oh wow, these murals are amazing,’ said Flick as they wandered through the El Carmen area of the city. ‘What do they all mean?’
‘Lots of different things. Street art is a living commentary on the world we live in.’ Having armed himself with a map and artists’ handbook, George was their unofficial tour guide for the evening.
‘It’s not just colourful graffiti, it’s about artists raising awareness of important issues.
By capturing our attention with their artwork, they are literally keeping our eyes open to what’s happening around us.
Which is pretty incredible, considering most of us spend most of our lives glued to our phones . . .’
‘Right, yes.’
Flick guiltily shoved her phone in her pocket.
‘And it’s not just walls or garage doors, there are some massive murals up ahead, on the side of those buildings,’ he gestured.
‘Oh, I’m going to go look.’
As Flick hurried on up ahead, George and Maggie continued slowly, arm in arm.
‘So what time’s your flight tomorrow?’
‘I haven’t booked it yet. I was going to ask if maybe you could get me a cheap ticket?’
‘I knew it. You only want me for my staff discount.’
Maggie punched him playfully in the ribs and he let out a theatrical yelp.
‘What about Flick?’
‘She wants to carry on until she finds him. She wants to stick to the plan.’
‘And you don’t?’
She shook her head. ‘When I saw him in the bar in Mallorca, I froze. All this time I thought I wanted to see him again, to ask him why he did what he did. I had all these questions. But then, when I had the opportunity, I just thought: why am I doing this? It wasn’t going to change things.
It wasn’t going to make me feel better. To be honest, I’d probably end up feeling worse.
’ She paused, her mind flicking back. ‘The only reason I crossed the road to go meet him is because I saw he was wearing Dad’s watch and I got angry. ’
‘Too fucking right you should be angry. I’d want revenge.’
‘But isn’t the best revenge to move on and live your best life?’ Maggie turned to George, her face lit up. ‘And this evening is a pretty good start, thanks to you.’
‘Don’t you want answers?’
‘I don’t think I’ll get any. Flick’s mum never did.’
‘So why did he want to meet you?’
‘Who knows.’ She shrugged. ‘Flick wonders if maybe he caught sight of me somewhere and suspected I was looking for him, that it was his way of trying to get ahead of the game somehow . . . I dunno, I don’t think I’ll ever understand his motives.
And I’ve finally realized I don’t need to try and see inside his head. ’
‘But what about all the money?’
‘He’s probably spent it, or gambled it away, or God knows.
All I want is Dad’s watch back. Saying that, the last time I thought that – boom, I was knocked unconscious and had my bag stolen, so maybe it’s a sign I should go home.
Try to forget all about it. Focus on the future and getting a job and finding a place to live. ’
‘You know, you can always come and stay with me. I’ve got a sofa bed, or I could clean out my artist’s studio in the garden – you could sleep in there.’
‘Thanks, George, that’s kind of you, but I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.’
‘I feel like it’s my fault.’
‘Huh?’ Maggie frowned.
‘Stirring everything up again. Telling you to call the reporter back, to come on this trip, saying you’ve got nothing to lose.’
‘Don’t be silly, you were right to stir everything up!
I haven’t been living these past six months; I’ve just been existing.
This trip hasn’t been a waste of time – it brought me back to life, George.
I’m not scared any more. I’m done beating myself up, blaming myself for being such an idiot, feeling like my life was over.
I thought I’d lost everything. I know I lost myself for a while, and it took coming here to find myself again. ’
She stopped walking and turned to him, her eyes flashing.
‘You know, there were times when I didn’t think I could survive what had happened.
It was impossible to imagine getting over it.
I thought I was going to be broken for ever.
That my life was ruined and I was never going to laugh or feel happy again.
But I was wrong. It’s true what they say: what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. ’
‘And now we’re talking in fridge magnets.’
She punched him again.
‘Ow, I’m like a peach! I’m going to be covered in bruises!’
‘You deserve it, I’m pouring my heart out and you’re making fun.’
‘I’m sorry. You’re right, I’m being a dick.
’ He was immediately contrite. ‘You know me – emotional vulnerability makes me deeply uncomfortable, whether it’s mine or anyone else’s; I have to make a joke or have a drink or deflect it somehow, which is most likely the reason I’m still single.
’ George broke off, his face unusually serious.
‘But I am listening, and I am very proud of you.’
‘Thank you.’
Maggie smiled gratefully as she gave his hand a squeeze.
‘But I think you’re making the wrong decision going home.’
She looked at him, surprised.
‘You know I’m adopted, right?’ he continued.
‘Yes, of course.’ Maggie wondered where this was going.
‘And I love my parents, they’re my mum and dad and always will be, but it didn’t stop me wanting to know where I’d come from, to meet my birth parents.
It’s just part of who you are, it’s part of your identity.
Luckily Mum and Dad were always really supportive and they helped me track down my birth mum, and we’ve got a relationship, but I never got to meet my birth father as he’d already died.
He was much older and married to someone else, not a good sort by all accounts, but still, you always wonder. ’
George paused.
‘What I’m saying is, Flick should get to meet her dad. It’s important she knows who he is, like finding the missing piece of the puzzle.’
‘Is that wise? He’s not a good guy.’
‘Doesn’t mean you’re opening a door; often it’s so you can close one.’
‘Hey, come and a look at this one! It’s amazing!’
Flick’s voice broke into their conversation and they both turned to see her standing a few feet away, in front of a large mural.
‘Coming,’ called George, then turned back to Maggie. Her face was filled with concern.
‘I’m just worried he’ll hurt her, like he hurt her mother, like he hurt me,’ she protested.
‘Which is why you have to go with her,’ he urged. ‘She needs you.’
She fell silent. Everyone talks about the desire to be loved, but it’s the desire to be needed that’s stronger. Did Flick need her?
‘Isn’t it amazing?’
Her face lit up, Flick was gesturing up at the huge, colourful alien-like figure on the side of a building.
‘It’s by Akimbo,’ said George, reading from his guidebook. ‘Apparently it’s in homage to Margarida Borràs, a transgender woman in Valencia who was executed in 1460 because of her identity.’
‘Wow, that’s pretty intense,’ said Flick.
‘What I love about street art is that it isn’t hidden away in some museum – it’s right here, in the real world,’ enthused George as the three of them stood and stared up at the powerful futuristic painting. ‘So you’re an art buff too, Flick?’
‘I am now.’ She grinned. ‘I always thought art wasn’t relevant, that it didn’t mean anything to me. It was Maggie who told me how to look at it differently.’
‘You had a good teacher.’ George smiled. ‘You know Maggie was an amazing painter herself?’
Maggie rolled her eyes at the flattery. ‘He’s only being nice because it’s my birthday.’
‘No, I’m serious.’
‘You should start painting again, now all this is over,’ urged Flick.
‘It’s not over yet, I’m coming with you.’
It was a split-second decision. But as soon as she said it out loud, she knew she’d made the right decision.
‘But I thought you wanted to go home?’
They say home is where the heart is and standing on a random street in Valencia with Flick and George, it suddenly struck Maggie that perhaps she was already home.
‘We’re in this together, aren’t we?’ she smiled.
‘Well, if you’re sure?’ Flick tried to hide her obvious delight.
‘OK, now that’s sorted, I just have one more question.’
They both turned to look at George as he interrupted.
‘Why would a man wanted by the police, who’d escaped to Europe, go on a cruise?’
‘Maybe he needed a holiday,’ quipped Maggie, with more than a hint of sarcasm. ‘Stealing someone’s life savings must be hard work. And aren’t you outside the jurisdiction of the police when you’re at sea?’
‘Yes, but not when you’re docked at port – then it’s a matter for the local police – so it’s not like you can escape the law indefinitely.’
‘How do you know so much about cruises?’ asked Flick.
‘I have several friends who work on the ships.’ George shrugged. ‘I’ve thought about it myself. All your income is tax free.’
‘I don’t think he’s worrying about paying taxes,’ muttered Maggie.
‘Well, I think the reason why he’s on a cruise is pretty obvious,’ shrugged Flick. ‘It’s the perfect place for a romance fraudster—’
‘To meet someone?’ finished George.
‘To scam someone,’ corrected Flick. ‘I’m sure he’s already found his next victim. Some poor rich, elderly widow—’
‘Birdy.’
George and Flick both looked at Maggie, who’d gone suddenly pale.
‘We met a rich heiress . . . divorced, widowed, single, in her seventies, I’m guessing. She’s on the same cruise. I saw them together at the club in Ibiza.’
‘Together together?’ He raised an eyebrow.
‘I thought I’d got it wrong, been mistaken, that it wasn’t him.’ She was shaking her head, reality dawning. ‘He had his hand round her waist . . .’
‘And you’re telling me this now?’ gasped Flick.
‘Well, I got slightly distracted by other news this morning.’ She shot her a look.
‘Maybe this is a silly question, but instead of going on some wild goose chase around Europe chasing a cruise ship, why don’t you just get on board?’
George’s voice broke into their conversation.
‘You mean, go on a cruise with the man who stole my life?’ Maggie looked horrified.
‘You can’t.’ Flick shook her head firmly. ‘No visitors or members of the public are allowed on board. They’re really strict with security.’
‘There’s no exceptions?’
‘No, it’s impossible. I’ve done my research,’ added Flick.
‘Anyway, it’s a crazy idea,’ said Maggie.
At the mention of crazy, the two women looked at each other. And that was the moment they both knew what they had to do. Well, you know what they say about crazy . . .