River Deep (23 page)

As Pete glanced once again at the black silhouette of the lady in the A-line shirt who guarded the female toilet door, he concluded that all the signs indicated that tonight was not a good night to try and find out the truth about true love. With that in mind, he tugged himself out of his seat to go and collect his next pint.

‘Say that again, but more slowly.’ Sarah handed Maggie another Wet One; she always had a pack in her handbag even now the children had grown out of them. Maggie roughly removed what was left of her make-up, wrinkling her nose against the acrid scent of the wipe.

‘He said he didn’t want us to get back together. That he just wanted us to be friends …’ Maggie paused and looked at her reflection. Her hair was tangled and her eyes were red and swollen. Her lips still tingled with Christian’s taste, though. ‘And then he kissed me and said he didn’t know, he just didn’t know, and he needed time to think …’

‘Fucking bastard.’

Sarah reached for another wipe but then realised the packet was empty. She pulled a tissue out of her back pocket, spat on it and wiped away the last traces of Maggie’s mascara.

‘Bloody fucking coward. Wants to have his cake and eat it, as usual, to have that slapper at home and you on the go. You know what he wants, don’t you?’ She took out her hairbrush and, turning Maggie away from her, quickly restyled her hair into a semblance of order. ‘He wants you to be his other woman now. I hope you told him where to go, young lady?’

Maggie turned and looked at her friend. She could tell Sarah was in no mood to hear the truth from her, and that if she mentioned even an approximation of it she would be sent to her room and grounded for a month. No wonder Becca had become an habitual fibber.

‘Of course I did,’ she said quietly. ‘I mean, I wouldn’t let him mess me around
that
much.’ Maggie heard the words bounce off the ancient, cracked tiles of the loo and half wished they were true. In reality, of course, she’d let him mess her around as much as he wanted, as long as he took her back one day.

‘And that other girl, that Louise. I feel sorry for her, poor cow. She’s got no idea what she’s let herself in for, has she? I almost feel like telling her,’ Sarah said grimly.

Maggie thought of Louise and her mind spun – she felt bad for her too. After all, she was just as caught up in this whole mess as Maggie was, and she didn’t even know that she was. And she didn’t have any proper friends to talk about it to. For all she knew, she had just found Mr Right and her life was about to begin.

Maggie looked at her friend and hugged her hard.

‘God, Sarah, I’m so glad you were here. God knows what would have happened if I didn’t have you! I can’t let Mum and Dad know about this. Not even Sheila. I’ll just have to say it’s the stress or my period or something.’

Sarah nodded and squeezed her tightly before releasing her.

‘OK, listen, mate. You’re handling this really well, you know? Now you’re past all the false hope and stuff you can really start to move on, all right?’

Maggie gave her a faintly guilty smile and hoped Sarah wouldn’t see through her.

‘There’s a bloke out there with pink hair who wants to shag me,’ Sarah added. ‘He’s not really all that, but he’s got nice shoulders, you know? I might snog him and see how it goes.’

Maggie laughed. ‘That’s Falcon. He drinks in here all the time. Haven’t you noticed him before?’

Sarah shrugged. ‘I haven’t noticed him notice me before,’ she said. ‘Come on, once more unto the breach …’

As they walked out into the bar, Sarah stopped dead, her hand barring Maggie’s progress.

‘Who the fuck is that!’

Sarah was staring at the bar, her mouth agog, and when Maggie looked, Pete was standing there exchanging a tenner with a particularly coquettish Sheila.

‘Oh!’ Maggie smiled with relief. Someone who would understand and who she could really talk to. ‘It’s Pete!’ she looked at Sarah. ‘That’s the Pete with the fiancée, the one Becca has a crush on – oops, I wasn’t supposed to mention that. Never mind. Hi, Pete!’ She waved at him and moved quickly to his side.

Sarah looked after her and shook her head. ‘That girl,’ she mumbled to herself, supposing that the tall blond was off-limits on two counts now, ‘wouldn’t know
real
talent if it tap-danced on her arse.’

Sarah eyed Falcon in a new light, as if she was being forced to buy budget when prime was right there. She gave a little shrug and crossed over to him, giving him her best smile. After all, the kids were away all night and she had nothing else on.

‘Are you all right, love?’ Marion asked her daughter as soon as she joined them at the bar.

Maggie smiled at her. ‘Course I am. Um, it was just, you know,’ she glanced at Pete and whispered, ‘
girl things
. The, er, supplier I met was a bit of a hard bargainer, but I think we can do business. So did you open the champagne?’

Marion shook her head. ‘We were waiting for you, dear.’

Sheila reached behind her into the fridge and handed the bottle to Keith, who opened it completely incorrectly with a large pop and a sudden gush of froth. Sheila shoved six miscellaneously-sized glasses underneath it until each one was filled and then grabbed the largest.

‘Pete.’ Maggie handed him a glass. ‘Join us. We’re toasting the new era of The Fleur, which officially started today!’

Pete took the glass and eyed it. If he drank this then he’d be officially drunk, again. He’d been almost permanently pie-eyed since he’d arrived in this town, and he knew he couldn’t blame it exclusively on Falcon. It was because it was negative Stella time. During positive Stella time he stayed meticulously sober in case she sprang any new surprises on him or tried to get into a fight or clinch with someone. He became her po-faced minder. Negative Stella time consisted of many more physical headaches, it was true, but much, much less demanding ones.

‘Sarah!’ Maggie called out to her friend, but when she looked Sarah was engaged in kissing the face off Falcon, her fingers entwined firmly in his ponytail. Maggie set her glass aside and turned back to her family.

‘Well, then, to our chief investor,’ she nodded at Sheila. ‘And to The Fleur! Long may she sail!’ she giggled and sipped her champagne. ‘Where’s Jim?’ she asked her dad. Technically, she supposed, he should be included in the celebrations.

‘He left you another inventory behind the bar to look at. He’s found all those old books down there, you know, the ones we bought years ago just after we got the place.’ Keith turned to Pete. ‘You used to go to these huge warehouses full of old bits of furniture, mirrors, signs and that and buy stuff for dressing the pub, you know. You could buy books by the yard – never even thought of looking to see what they were. Anyway, we took them down maybe fifteen yeas ago. Must be a hundred of them. Jim thinks a few of them might be worth something. He’s worked hard, and it is Friday, so I gave him fifty to have a night out.’

Maggie looked at her dad and pursed her lips. At some point she’d have to sit down with her parents and explain to them that her taking over the pub wouldn’t work if they insisted on dipping in and out of the business when they saw fit. But that could wait for tonight, at least.

‘Maggie.’ Pete interrupted her train of thought. ‘So are you OK, then? When you came in you looked like you were ––’ He stopped abruptly, remembering just in time that Maggie had seemed pretty sick of him always catching her crying.

‘Yes, I was. Crying, I mean.
Again
.’ She glanced around the largely empty bar, rolling her eyes. ‘Perhaps I’ll get a listing in the
Guinness Book of Records
, like that person who hiccupped for seven years.’ Maggie extended her hand as if picturing a headline. “Girl who blubbed most over break-up!” Why don’t we go and grab a seat? My feet are killing me.’

Pete was happy to and they made their way to the other side of the pub. Glancing at Sarah and Falcon, Maggie remembered she had briefly seen the blonde girl she thought was Falcon’s girlfriend when she’d stumbled into the pub earlier.

‘What happened to your flatmate?’ she asked, hoping that Sarah wasn’t getting into someone else’s trouble again.

‘Oh, Angie? She left. Abruptly.’ He nodded at Falcon and confirmed Maggie’s fears. ‘Long story.’

Maggie sighed heavily. ‘God, there’s a lot of it around, isn’t there? I saw Christian tonight.’ Maggie began her story without feeling the need for any preamble. Somehow she sensed that Pete wouldn’t mind. She lowered her voice and glanced furtively at her family, indicating that this was just between her and Pete.

‘I thought – I was being monumentally stupid, but anyway I
thought
– that he wanted us to get back together. I’ve been a bit mental recently, and I
thought
I’d found something out when I don’t think I actually did, if you know what I mean?’

Pete did not know what she meant, but he kept his trap shut.

She smiled sheepisly. ‘I thought I was being all Alexis Carrington.’ Pete laughed, largely to cover his confusion. ‘But he was really all over me, Pete, touching me, complimenting me, and so I think I was entitled to be a
bit
drawn in by it all. Anyway, then I go and tell him how I feel, and he tells me I’ve got it wrong, and I run out of the restaurant and he chases me, and then he …’ Maggie looked up at Pete with a new intensity in her eyes that Pete found rather stirring. ‘He kissed me, really passionately, full-on sexy. Much better than he’s kissed me in ages, actually. Like he really meant it.’

Pete felt himself blush inexplicably as he pictured the image. Maggie was actually very sexy, if he let himself dwell on it. He really
had
to do something about his libido as soon as he got home, release the build up of pressure, so to speak. He crossed his legs and tried to look nonchalant.

‘And he said he still wanted me, but he didn’t know if we could be together again. He said he needed time to think.’ Maggie leaned forward on to the table. ‘What do you think?’

‘What do I think?’ Pete mused. ‘Well, for starters I think he’s insane. When you’ve obviously got all that chemistry going for you, he’s mad to walk away from it. I wouldn’t.’ Pete grinned at her a little shyly, clearly unused to making obvious compliments.

‘That’s what
I
think,’ Maggie agreed heartily, deciding he was sweet for trying to cheer her up.

Sheila clanged the bell for last orders, making Sarah jump and slide off Falcon’s knee. He began to laugh until she silenced him with one look. Maggie smiled. Her friend was so hard; nothing ever got to her.

‘But the question is, what can I do about it? Do you want another drink?’

Pete thought that another drink would cloud his head completely and he declined.

‘I know, let’s go for a walk!’ he said suddenly. ‘It’s such a clear night, we might get a look at the stars if the light pollution isn’t too bad.’

Maggie sat down again. ‘Um …’ she said uncertainly. Pete laughed. ‘Oh Maggie, you know I’m not going to try anything. It’s a warm night and we need to clear our heads and form a plan of attack. Walking is the best way of thinking, I’ve always found. We can go to the lakes by the abbey. What do you reckon?’

Maggie wasn’t sure she was ready to go back to the abbey so soon after tonight’s near humiliation, but she suddenly found the thought of strolling in the moonlight with Pete the pleasantest she had had since … well, OK, since Christian’s hand had briefly but firmly gripped her crotch about two hours ago. But even so it seemed like a cool and calm antidote to that heady and frustrating memory.

‘OK,’ she agreed. ‘Why not?’

She returned to the bar. ‘I’m just going out with Pete for a bit, OK? Would you mind locking up, Dad? Don’t put the bolts on, though, cos I’ll need to get back in again in half an hour or so.’

Sheila raised a pencilled brow and crossed her arms. Maggie ignored her obvious implication and headed out of the pub and on to the high street. The air was still warm and it was a busy night: gangs of girls and groups of lads crossing and clashing, mingling and mixing as they made their way home or on to the next place, hoping that some kind of entanglement would hold and last for that night at least.

Pete took Maggie’s hand and led her across the street and down the cobbled alley that went behind the abbey and to the large park.

‘Anyone sees us,’ Maggie said, laughing and secretly charmed by the unconscious way in which he’d taken her hand, ‘they’re bound to think we’re up to no good.’

Pete smiled at her. ‘Well, it doesn’t matter what people think, does it?’

They walked along by the lakes, the gravel crunching under their feet, and up on to the ridge of the slope where a small section of Roman ruins still stood. Finally, when they’d reached the highest point of the incline, Pete stopped and tipped back his head.

‘There,’ he said, nodding at the expanse of glitterng sky. ‘That’s what it’s really all about, Maggie, out there. That’s the real mystery. And we are all made of stars, you know.’

He released Maggie’s hand and sat down, lying back on the dry grass and stretching his long legs out. He patted the grass beside him. ‘Come on,’ he smiled, and Maggie shrugged and joined him. Somehow the incline of the slope and the dazzle of the cloudless sky made her feel a little dizzy. She held on to earth by entwining her fingers in the rough grass.

‘It is beautiful,’ she said, amazed at how little she ever bothered to stop and look up at the sky. ‘Incredible, really.’ She turned a little to look at Pete’s profile. He was smiling broadly, and he looked very young at that moment – boyish almost.

‘So which constellations can you pick out then?’ he said, glancing at her quickly.

She looked back at the sky. ‘Um … none. It’s rubbish, I know, but unless they’re in the back of a magazine with the little lines joining up the dots, and a little name attached to them, I can’t tell the difference.’

Pete laughed and took her wrist in one hand and formed her fingers into a pointer with the other. He slid over the grass a little until his body was flush against hers. Maggie found herself holding her breath; if she had been uncertain about Christian’s intentions earlier, she really had no idea what was on Pete’s mind now. Maybe he’d given up on Stella? After all, he hadn’t mentioned her. Maybe all this midnight walks and star-gazing was a way to get her on her own … She panicked and stiffened, but just as she was about to pull away, Pete began to talk, and she realised that her body next to his was absolutely the last thing on his mind. She felt, but barely registered, an unexpected regret at the departure of tension that the thought of him trying to kiss her had created.