Chapter 43
BACK INSIDE , CLAUDE ’ S BAND had started. He was on the guitar, bending back and forth over the instrument as if he was playing a stadium, while another of his bandmates played the accordion, and the third sung lustily into a microphone.
Everyone, from Jean’s teenage daughters to Madame Desmoges, was moving to the music in the middle of the room, whirling over the floorboards, waving their arms in the air and whooping as Maggie watched proudly from the doorway. This was exactly what Phil would have wanted.
‘You promised me.’ Gray didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he took her hand and pulled her into the throng.
‘WHERE’VE YOU GUYS BEEN?’ Jamie shouted.
But she didn’t have time to reply, because Gray spun her out like a cotton reel, before pulling her back into him.
She placed her palm on his chest and laughed. ‘Rock ’n’ roll, huh?’
‘I’ve learned a few tricks.’
‘I can see that,’ she said, before Gray tipped her back over his arm.
They danced; they drank; they danced again. They cut a cake that Madame Desmoges had brought, another replica of the hotel, just as she’d made for Phil’s fiftieth, except this version had a small, blonde figure standing behind the fondant donkeys, one arm in the air, waving. Then everyone sang ‘Happy Birthday’ because it was the only song they could manage together, a mangled version in English and French, even though it technically wasn’t a birthday party and Phil was now scattered across the lawn on the other side of the hotel.
After that, Jamie pinched one of Audrey’s cigarettes, and he and Maggie went outside to share it on the front steps.
‘She would have loved this,’ she said, exhaling smoke into the night air. Finally, it had stopped raining.
‘Good. Give us that.’
‘Hey look, there’s the big canoe.’ Maggie pointed up at the sky.
Jamie followed her finger. ‘The what? Are you high ?’
‘No! Look, Orion’s belt, up there. Or, as it’s also known, the big canoe, and can you see the little canoe right in front of them? The smaller line of three stars? And they’re in a race to catch the fish, which is that bright star just underneath. See?’
‘I thought you hated space.’
‘Gray told me. It’s what the Native Americans called them.’
Jamie took another drag. ‘Well, obviously, if he said it … Where did you guys go earlier?’
‘Out. I needed some air .’
He elbowed her. ‘Oh, air. Is that what the kids are calling it?’
‘I sprinkled Phil’s ashes over the lawn and he came out to check on me.’
‘Sounds pretty sexy to me; the ashes of your dead aunt, the view, Gray Hudson …’
‘Stop.’
He stubbed out the cigarette on the step. ‘You realize he likes you.’
Maggie tipped her head at him and looked doubtful.
‘I’m serious. Straight people are awful at this, but I’m telling you, I know when a man is into someone, and he’s into you.’
‘How?’ she challenged, trying to sound dismissive while secretly longing to know the answer.
‘I just do. Look at your face! You like him too!’
‘Jamie …’
‘There’s a vibe, I can see it! Oh my god, you’re trying not to smile.’ He tipped back his head and laughed. ‘You have a crush!’
‘Jamie …’
‘Maggie has a crush! Maggie has a crush!’
‘Shhhhh, Jamie, seriously. OK, I admit, I like hanging out with him.’
‘You like hanging out with him. Mags, babe, c’mon. That’s the saddest sentence I’ve ever heard. What you mean is you want to bang him.’
‘Jamie!’ She felt slightly giddy having this conversation. ‘Fine, I will also admit that I have, occasionally over the past few days, found myself wondering what that might be like.’
The truth was, since the evening on the sunbeds, lying beside Gray, she’d thought about it quite a bit. She’d thought about pressing her skin against his. She’d thought about lying beside him, mapping his back with her fingers. She’d thought about the weight of Gray on top of her and the sensation of his hands running over her legs. She’d thought about looking down and seeing his head between them. The intensity of her thoughts had surprised her because she hadn’t fantasized about sex for so long. It was as if that evening with him had stirred something dormant inside her, and every morning since she’d woken up and entertained the idea before feeling embarrassed. Was she deluding herself? Did this not make her like all the other millions of people around the world who had the same exact thoughts about Gray Hudson? But then she’d remember that night, the charged sensation between them, like air shimmering above tarmac on a hot day, and tell herself there had been something. She hadn’t thought about Mungo like this for a long time, maybe years. Maybe not ever, if she really forced herself to think about it. And then she’d feel ridiculous again, and the thought cycle would repeat itself. Because what could she do about this fantasy, anyway?
‘Have you wanked about him?’
‘Jamie!’
‘What? I have. Several times.’
‘Oh my god.’ Maggie covered her eyes with both hands and laughed. ‘It’s not like I can do anything about it,’ she went on, ‘it’s a tiny crush, that’s all. And I’m going home on Monday, and he’s going back to LA, and I need to decide what I’m going to say to Mungo, and … that’ll be that.’
Jamie tutted. ‘When was the last time you had sex with your husband? No, hang on, let me finish: when was the last time you had sex with your husband and enjoyed it?’
She couldn’t remember. Long before they started down the IVF route, that was for sure. If she was really honest, it was probably only a few months after she started trying to get pregnant, when sex first started feeling like another item on the to-do list.
‘Listen. I’m not saying this to upset you,’ he continued, ‘I’m saying it because I love you. I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret tonight, but I think tonight, of all nights, you should stop worrying about everything else. Forget London! Forget your boring husband!’
‘Jamie!’
‘Well, he is. Come on, admit it. I’ve never said it before and I’m only saying it now because I’ve had ninety-four Champagnes, but he is and I think your aunt was right. So forget him, forget home, forget what your mother would say or anyone else would think. Have some fun! You’re here, now, at the hotel for two more days. Be more Phil. She would have slept with him.’
Maggie narrowed her eyes. ‘That’s low, playing that card.’
‘I know, but she would have done.’
‘Maybe.’
‘Not maybe, definitely. So go inside please, and flirt with that gorgeous man. Please?’
‘Oh, hello, Madame Desmoges. Are you off?’ Maggie scrambled to her feet as Madame Desmoges appeared above them, swaying on the top step while clutching on to her grandson’s arm like a budgerigar.
‘ Oui , mes petits , but merci , Maggie, and Jamie, for such a party. I ’aven’t stayed up this late since the end of the war.’
Maggie kissed the old lady gently on the cheek. ‘Thank you for coming, and for the cake.’
‘She would ’ave been so proud,’ said Madame Desmoges, reaching for Maggie’s hand with her own and giving it a frail squeeze.
‘I hope. Get home safely.’
They watched them make their way down the steps before Jamie jumped to his feet. ‘I’ve got a handsome waiter to dance with. You coming in?’
She nodded and followed him back to the dining room where the crowd had thinned but various bodies were still shifting around to the music. Gray was standing on the opposite side, talking to Geoffrey.
Emboldened by her conversation outside, Maggie caught his eye, and when he looked back and held her gaze, felt the same pulse of excitement in her stomach. There it was again, the shimmering between them. She couldn’t be making it up.
‘Maggie!’
She looked down to see Audrey in front of her, reaching for her hands.
‘Maggie, this ’as been magnifique , this party. Madame Phil …’ Audrey paused as she fumbled in her clutch bag for her tissues and wiped her eyes. ‘Madame Phil would ’ave been so ’appy.’
Maggie squeezed her hands back. ‘Do you think?’
‘ Oui , and the food! Maggie, I ’ave ’ad so many drinks but I think sometimes …’ Audrey swayed closer, as if she was about to let Maggie in on a great secret, ‘sometimes I think your cooking is even better than Madame Phil. But don’t tell ’er I say so.’ She tapped her nose and roared with laughter. Drunk Audrey was much better than sad Audrey.
She held her glass up in front of her face, and looked surprised to find it empty. ‘ Bon , alors , I am going to ’ave one more.’
‘Good idea,’ Maggie replied, before looking across the room to find Gray’s face again. He smiled this time, and suddenly it felt as if they were both acknowledging their feelings.
‘Maggie!’
Gabriel the butcher was standing in front of her.
‘ Merci , Maggie,’ he said, his long arms reaching around her in a hug. ‘ Merci . What a party! Like the old days.’
‘You’ve had a good time?’
‘ Oui ,’ he said solemnly, before gesturing around the dining room. ‘Everyone ’as said it, you ’ave made this place alive again.’
‘Oh, Gabriel, thank you. That means the world.’
‘ Bon . And bonne nuit , Maggie.’
‘Night,’ she said, waving him through the hallway.
‘Maggie!’ cried another voice, just as she turned to cross the room and reach Gray.
It was Pierre and Sofie.
‘What an evening!’ he boomed loudly, over the music.
‘You’ve enjoyed it?’
‘We ’ave. And I would like to stay but Sofie, she says eet ees time to go ’ome.’ Pierre glanced hopefully at his wife, as if she might relent and declare they could stay, but Sofie smiled thinly at Maggie.
‘ Merci , Maggie. It was a nice party.’
‘Not at all, thank you for coming. Thank you both for coming.’
‘And when will we see you again, Maggie?’ persisted Pierre.
‘Um, I don’t know. I’ll be back though,’ she fibbed.
‘Ah Maggie, I ’ope so.’
‘Pierre, on y va ,’ Sofie snapped.
She led him away and Pierre cast one more optimistic look over his shoulder before they, too, disappeared into the hallway.
Maggie smiled and shook her head to herself before glancing across the room to see that Gray had gone.