Chapter 20
MAGGIE
I scan the small park. The playground that is usually full of excitable kids in the summer months is empty.
Apart from a few determined joggers, it’s quiet, the clouds heavy and promising rain.
I spot Luke sitting at a picnic table next to the old bandstand.
Drinking what I’m guessing is his usual takeaway oat-milk latte.
It’s been almost a year since I’ve seen him and in that time he’s decided to grow a beard.
An unkempt beard. I still feel the sting of rejection, of anger, even more so since discovering what happened to Jack.
But, I suppose I appreciate him agreeing to meet me in a place where he knows I can keep my distance from people.
I never did get the chance to tell him that I could read his thoughts.
I’d tried a few times, but in my gut, maybe I knew he would never understand.
But that was before he kissed me and I heard him thinking about the previous night spent in Becca’s bed.
‘That’s him,’ I say to Jack, nodding to his table. ‘Ring any bells?’
Jack slows his steps and looks over. ‘Not really, it might not be him. He didn’t have a beard.’
‘Oh the beard is new. You OK? I can do this on my own and tell you what he said?’
He digs his hands into his pockets. ‘Thanks, but I want to hear what he has to say. Look him in the eyes. See if I can remember anything else.’
I’m still hoping that Luke isn’t the one who caused Jack’s stroke. Or that my words spoken in anger started the chain of events.
‘Hi, Luke,’ I say. He looks up, bits of coffee froth on his moustache.
‘Mags.’ I can’t pretend that I don’t feel a little buzz as he looks up at Jack. I know that we’re only friends, but still, it feels good to be next to him. Albeit with some distance.
‘Good to see you,’ I begin, even though it’s not. He was the first person I slept with, had a relationship with, which made his infidelity hit even harder. I sit down, shifting to the edge of the bench. ‘This is Jack.’
Jack, to his credit, puts out his hand, which Luke limply shakes, eyes widening a touch.
Jack takes a seat, far enough away that we’re not touching.
‘How’ve you been?’ I ask.
‘Not bad. Yourself?’
‘Good.’
‘So my vinyl?’ he asks, looking to the bag on my shoulder.
‘I’ll get to that in a bit. I actually wanted to meet for another reason.’
‘Oh?’ He takes another sip of his drink.
His blond hair is longer too. I used to love the way his hair was always doing its own thing, like it was waging its own rebellion. It looks scruffy in comparison to Jack’s.
‘I wondered if you might help us with something? It’s about the night we broke up?’
He frowns. ‘What about it?’ He adjusts the zipper on his leather jacket.
‘Well Jack thinks you might have met before.’ I look to Jack who gives me a small nod that lets me know this is the person he saw that night.
Luke gives Jack a thorough up and down. ‘No. I don’t think so.’
Jack begins, ‘We bumped into each other, outside the White Lion pub?’
Luke wipes his milk froth away with the back of his hand and scans Jack’s face. ‘I don’t think… wait. You’re the guy who knocked into me.’
Jack tilts his head, questioning. ‘I bumped into you?’
‘Yeah, too focused on your phone to watch where you were going. You need to unplug, man.’
‘Wait, so you didn’t push him?’ I ask.
‘Push him? No!’ He shakes his head and takes another sip.
Jack’s hand is tapping his thigh. ‘Luke? Is it OK that I call you Luke?’
‘Well, that is my name; don’t wear it out.’ He grins as if that’s the most original comeback ever spoken.
‘Right. Well, you see the thing is, Luke,’ Jack continues, leaning forward on the table, ‘I had an accident that night. A head injury. I’m just looking for answers, that’s all. We’re not here to accuse you of anything. I’m trying to piece a few things together.’
‘Can you tell us exactly what happened?’ I ask Luke.
‘I’ll try but there’s not much to tell. After we’d, you know “gone our separate ways”’ – he air-quotes; I’d forgotten that he did that – ‘I was on my way home and this guy…’ He gestures with his cup.
‘Jack,’ I correct.
‘Yeah, you, well as I said, you were on your phone, bumped into me, said sorry and that was it.’
‘You didn’t say anything?’ Jack asks.
‘Yeah, well I did tell you to watch it, or something like that. I might have yelled a bit actually. I was a bit emotional for’ – he looks pointedly at me – ‘obvious reasons, but that was it.’
‘Nothing else?’
‘No, man. I swear down.’ Ugh. Swear down?
My memories of my time together with Luke are filled with moments where he’d make me laugh, when he would cook delicious meals and was patient.
Endearing even. And he liked me too, despite keeping my distance as much as I could.
He didn’t push me for more. I’d tried to make it work.
God how I’d tried. To prevent his musings and critiques, but his words always had a way of getting through.
That’s why I made the decision to keep my distance after that night.
From people as a whole. Until Jack, I had started to accept my lot in life.
I can’t have the kind of easy relationships I see around me every day, on the screen, in love songs.
But right now, if I’m going to help Jack, I need to know Luke’s telling the truth.
I clasp my hands together and rest them on the table next to Luke’s so that my pinkie is close enough to touch his skin. He doesn’t notice. I take a quick glance at Jack, but he’s focusing on Luke’s face. ‘It’s important, Luke. Do you remember anything else? Anything at all?’ I prompt.
He shakes his head and continues to look at Jack.
‘No.’
‘Can you try again? Try really hard to remember that night.’
I didn’t do anything.
Is he her boyfriend?
Slick bastard.
He should have watched where he was going.
‘Did you see him fall?’ I ask.
No.
I walked back to Becca’s.
What did Mags expect?
It’s not like I was getting much from her.
I move my hand a fraction. Pushing down the sense of hurt and betrayal that within minutes of breaking up with me, he went to her house.
‘No. I carried on walking. Look, I’m sorry this happened to you, mate, but it wasn’t anything that I did.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Certain. There were a couple of smokers outside… They could confirm it, maybe they’re local?’
I look to Jack, but he’s already getting up.
‘Thanks for your time,’ Jack says, standing now. ‘It was good meeting you. And I apologise. For bumping into you.’
‘You too, and I hope you find out what happened.’
‘Thanks.’ Jack waits for me to unfold myself from the bench.
‘How’s Becca by the way?’ I ask.
‘Becca?’ I can see him trying to piece together how I know her name. ‘Wouldn’t know. Um, my album?’
‘Oh that! Sorry,’ I say, grimacing. ‘Turns out Sergeant Pepper didn’t quite make the cool placemat that I thought it would.’ He takes it from me with a look of horror, hands already scrambling to pull the disc out.
Jack and I head back to the car. The rain starting to spit. ‘Did you really use it as a placemat?’
‘Nah, but it was worth it to see the look on his face.’
Jack’s deep laugh fills me with warmth.
‘Did it help you remember anything?’ I ask, as he double clicks to unlock the car.
‘A bit.’ Jack opens the door for me, like it’s second nature. It’s old-fashioned but he doesn’t make a show of it. ‘I remember him telling me to watch it, so that’s new. And he’s right, I remember stumbling into him. It wasn’t the other way around.’
I climb into the car. Jack joins me. ‘He’s telling the truth. Just so you know.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Mmmhmmm.’
I click the seatbelt buckle into place.
‘So what’s next?’ I ask him as he turns on the ignition and begins pulling out.
‘I guess I need to find out what happened after. Maybe ask at the pub and see if any locals saw anything?’
‘And see Dr Levin,’ I probe. He side-eyes me.
‘And maybe see Dr Levin.’
The wipers begin sectioning the view in rhythmic beats. The mist on the windows – which would take me several rounds with my sponge to eradicate – disappears almost instantly.
‘I do have one question?’ he asks, turning at the junction.
‘Hmmm?’
‘What the hell did you see in that guy?’ He glances my way, eyebrows raised.
I laugh. ‘Oh he wasn’t that bad. He was funny and he was kind… most of the time. And patient. With me and…’ I waggle my fingers.
‘I think he’s the world’s biggest idiot.’
‘Oh, he’s very clever actually, a wiz at game shows.’
‘No I meant—’ He turns to look at me. ‘Because he had you and thought someone else was better.’
Oh holy hell.
‘Thank you,’ I say and look away so he doesn’t see the way heat is rushing to my face.
We’re quiet for a while as I gather my composure. Outside the rain is coming down harder, umbrellas raised and mad dashes are being made by pedestrians.
‘I was thinking…’ Jack stops at a zebra crossing, a woman with a pushchair rushing past.
‘About the accident?’ I ask.
‘No, I was thinking I’d like to repay you, for your help at the shop and well’ – he pulls at his earlobe – ‘everything else… I’ve made more progress in the short time I’ve known you than over the past year. Are you free next Friday afternoon? Before your shift at Flicks?’
‘I’m not actually working next week. The projector is being cleaned so it’s shut…’
‘Great! I’ve got an idea.’
I frown. ‘What kind of idea?’
‘That would ruin the surprise. I guess you’re going to have to trust me.’
I tuck my hair behind my ear. ‘I don’t know, Jack. Can I trust you?’ I challenge.
The tone has shifted, something more peering out between the cracks of humour.
‘You can.’