Wish You Were Here (12 page)

The only thing she said, aside from consoling me, was, ‘He's a very good-looking man.' Not implying anything, just a statement of fact. But I knew. Knew that I was
OK-
looking – pretty, with an open, friendly face – but that I'd been punching above my weight. I'd be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life, wondering who was perching on his desk at work, who he was going on business trips with, or, if I was away myself, who was moving in on him at home.

I broke up with him. And, obviously, I broke up with Mimi, and moved back in with Mum, in Fulham. Max was heartbroken. He tried his hardest to win me back. He called me constantly, he loitered around outside my office, my house, but I wasn't having any of it. And the reason I wasn't having any of it, I realized one day on my way into work, was those flowers. Although there'd been other friends around, about five of them, Max and Mimi had approached
the end of my hospital bed together, almost as a couple, bearing gifts. The flowers were from Pulbrook & Gould, a very smart shop around the corner from Max in Chelsea, which I used to walk past – nowhere near the wrong end of Fulham, where Mimi and I lived. Somehow, I knew they'd bought them together. Had had breakfast together in his flat, coffee, croissants. And then they'd gone to select them, before coming in to see me. That she hadn't beat a hasty retreat first thing in the morning.

I stayed with Mum for a year – in many ways, she was more like a flatmate than a mother, anyway – and threw myself into having a raucous, non-stop, hectic social life. My friends were brilliant: they partied hard with me, encouraged me to do as much as possible, to accept every invitation. I didn't disappoint them. But towards the end of the year, in November, I overdid it, and broke a tiny bone in my foot, a metatarsal, trying to dance on a table in a nightclub, then jumping off it when the barman, who'd originally thought it a huge joke, turned ugly.

Lucy took me to St Thomas's. James was working in A&E at the time as a young registrar, and something about the way he handled my foot at two in the morning and observed that at least I'd been on the table and not under it, made me warm to him.

‘Were you plastered?' He looked up at me with a smile, crouched as he was, tending my ankle.

‘Not entirely.'

‘Well you're about to be. I'll get a cast on that.' He straightened up.

‘Apparently, a surgical boot gives you more mobility? Can't I have one of those?'

‘It's
a short cut. If you were my girlfriend, I'd want you to be in a cast. It'll mend much better in the long run.'

It made me want to be his girlfriend. To be looked after. To be there in the long run. And he had kind grey eyes, thoughtful ones – not twinkly, naughty ones like Max's.

My visits back to St Thomas's became the highlight of my social calendar. I dressed carefully for them, and when James asked me out for a drink when the original cast was changed for a lighter one, I hobbled off delightedly. His was the first name on my new ankle. With a kiss.

A year later, we were married, and then, not long after that, Max married Mimi. I nearly fell over when I heard. I hadn't even known they'd been seeing each other. Once I'd got over the shock, though, I was triumphant. You see, I thought smugly, pushing through a swing door at St Thomas's, where I had another appointment with James, but this time for a scan, as I was pregnant with Amelia, I'd been right. Of course I'd been right. I'd known all along. Max had never been the man for me.

Sally, unused to being the sideshow, was not appreciating the way my eyes and Max's had met in the outside lights of the chateau – me on the balcony, him gazing up – and held on tight. She was alive to the situation in an instant.

‘Of course, you two need no introduction, do you? I'd forgotten you know each other.'

Speechless, I dragged my eyes away from Max and back to her, my breath short at the magnitude of her gall.
Forgotten?
Of course she hadn't forgotten. I'd told her the whole story myself, curled up on an ancient sofa in the morning room at Brechallis, when I'd first gone there with James, during one of our girly chats. Starved of company, she loved to drag me off for hours, wanting to know everything. She knew all about Mimi – obviously, she didn't know quite how heartbroken I'd been, because I was going out with her brother – but she knew it had been incredibly traumatic. Thriving on drama, when her life yielded so little, she'd wanted the story again and again.

‘I couldn't stop her, Flora,' Rachel, beside me, said in a low voice.

I swung around to her. Her face was drawn in the glare of the outside lights. Sally and Max were getting suitcases out of the boot now, shutting car doors. We stepped back into the relative safety and gloom of the bedroom.

‘But
this is monstrous, Rachel. You must know that?'

She hesitated, looked wretched. ‘I'm not sure Sally's up to that sort of treachery, she's not that deep. I honestly think he flirted with her, she was flattered, and when she realized who he was, she thought, Oh well, so what? It was years ago and he doesn't mean anything to Flora any more. And, I admit, she might have thought – it could be quite amusing.'

‘Not to tell me –'

‘Yes, that smacks of wanting to give you a surprise, but not a nasty one. Just a bit of a jolt. You know how insecure she is, how everything has to revolve around her.'

‘But does she even realize that this has nothing to do with her at all?' I hissed furiously. My hands were shaking as I clutched the necklace around my throat. ‘And everything to do with me? That he is here because of me? Is she that stupid?'

Rachel swallowed. ‘I think that's taking it a bit far –'

‘Oh no, Rachel, it is not!' I knew what he was like, knew his chutzpah.

She licked her lips. ‘I know what you mean. It is a bit odd, from his point of view –'

‘It's extraordinary!'

‘Flora, we must go down,' she said anxiously as we heard noises below. ‘It looks even more odd if we hang around up here. We must go and meet them, be normal.' She looked at me imploringly in the dim glow of the bedside light. She was right. Of course she was right. And she was helping me. I needed that. I nodded quickly and, together, we went down the corridor and descended the stone staircase. My heart was pounding. I hoped I wouldn't fall.
When we got to the bottom, they'd already pushed through the front door into the brightly lit hall and were gazing around in wonder.

‘Ah, there you are! We wondered where everyone was. Thought you weren't coming to greet us!' Sally's newly bleached teeth glistened as she smiled broadly. She crossed the hall and enveloped me in a mass of lipstick, hair and scent. I managed to hug her back.

‘I
do
hope you don't mind, Flora,' she whispered fiercely in my ear, and I actually believe she meant it.

‘Sally! How lovely to see you,' I gasped. ‘Everyone's still on the terrace, having drinks. You look amazing.'

I turned to Max, as Rachel embraced her sister. His eyes were alight, but it wasn't just amusement: he'd like me to think it was, but there was something else there, too.

‘Flora. Lovely to see you.' He stepped forward, and we pecked each other awkwardly.

‘You, too, Max. What a surprise.' I kept a bright smile going. I'm good at those. Suddenly, I agreed with Rachel. Sally wasn't deep. Giving me a jolt might be a thrilling by-product, but it wouldn't be her raison d'être for being with Max. She plainly just imagined that this very attractive man, who'd once gone out with her sister-in-law, was now in love with her, because she was so thin and beautiful. But I knew Max. Knew he'd never fall in love with Sally. He wouldn't fall in love with her head.

‘Come and see everyone.'

‘I thought they'd hear the car, come and meet us! I'm dying to introduce everyone to Max.'

I turned and led the way through the house towards the terrace. I could hear myself breathing.

‘What
a house!' Max was saying as we crossed the inner hall. ‘Is it as amazing throughout?'

‘It's pretty special,' I replied. I hadn't heard his voice for so long, it was bizarre.

‘It's beautiful,' agreed Sally, stopping to gaze around. We stopped with her. ‘Although it's not quite on the scale of the one I was in last year, of course, when I was with the Wards in Angus, which is the neighbouring estate to Balmoral.'

‘Yes, I remember you showed me the pictures,' Max said lightly. ‘Is that the coast we can see, twinkling away in the distance?' He'd moved to an open window.

‘Yes, it is,' I said shortly, removing my tongue from the roof of my mouth, where it had seemingly taken root. I led the way through the kitchen and out to the terrace, where, under the twinkling lights and a velvet sky, my entire family were seated. I was glad it was dark so no one would see my horrified face until I'd had time to compose it. Neither could they hear my heart beating. I introduced Michel and Thérèse, who were clearing away the liqueurs and were the closest, and then as everyone got to their feet, exclaiming, Sally took over.

‘Max, this is my gorgeous niece Amelia – and you must be Toby, I've seen your picture on Facebook. And this is my
other
gorgeous niece, Tara – so, by a process of elimination, you must be Rory!'

I stood by in a daze.

‘What the hell … ?' James was beside me suddenly, staring as Sally went round the table, dragging her beau with her. ‘Isn't that Max?'

‘The very same.' I swung round to him. ‘Did you know?'

‘No,
of course not!' He looked horrified.

‘Well, she's your sister!' I hissed.

‘Yes, but –' His face acknowledged this responsibility. ‘God, Flora. I'm so sorry.'

‘Oh my God, look at you!' My daughters were on their feet and shrieking, gawping at their aunt, circling her in wonder. ‘How much have you lost?'

‘Five stone!' said Sally proudly.

‘But how did you
do
it? Was it the five-two thing?' Amelia demanded, clearly wanting to run off and do it instantly. ‘Did you starve for two days?'

‘No, I met this man.' She smiled and reached for Max's hand. ‘It just dropped off.' She half-shielded her mouth with her hand. ‘Plenty of sex,' she whispered, in a hideous aside to her nieces.

‘When did you two meet?' asked Tara, giggling, but blushing, too, as Amelia, after rolling her eyes at me, made room for them to sit at the young end of the table, where they were handed bread, cheese, Calvados and olives by Thérèse and Michel, who, having been assured the late arrivals didn't want any proper supper, prepared to disappear. Max had paused to greet my mother, who had looked surprised but not incredulous. She introduced him to Jean-Claude. When his back was turned, though, she looked across at me and raised her eyebrows. Everyone settled down to chat, but after a few minutes Lizzie was up from her seat and down to my end of the table.

‘Your mother says that's
the
Max.'

‘The very same.' I reached for the dregs of someone's wine. Gulped it down.

‘Do the girls know?'

‘Not
yet. They will soon, though. They're already au fait with his sex life. Apparently Sally's going like a train, no doubt with all the zeal of the recently converted.'

‘But what's he doing here?'

‘Search me, Lizzie.'

Mum was now sitting next to Amelia, and I saw her lean across and whisper in her ear. Amelia froze. She turned to gaze at me. Then, when she could decently pretend to withdraw from the conversation, she scuttled down. Pulled up a chair.

‘Is that really your ex-boyfriend, Mum? Granny says it's the one you were engaged to!'

‘Yup.' I reached to pour myself some more wine.

‘But how do you feel? Isn't that so weird for you? That he's going out with Sally?'

Her face was agog. Max continued to talk to the others, but I knew he was going through the motions, was more intent on us. He couldn't hear us from that distance, though.

‘It's more than weird, Amelia.'

‘God, I can
imagine.
But he's divorced, apparently, and Sally does look amazing, doesn't she?'

‘She does.'

‘He's seriously hot, Mum.' She broke off to look at him again. Then back. ‘Does Dad mind?'

‘I very much doubt it.'

He wouldn't. Once he'd got over the initial shock, he'd assume that these things just happened. That life was full of curious merry-go-rounds and some ended up in your back garden. James didn't have a jealous bone in his body, which had sometimes annoyed me. He was far too relaxed
to get worked up about an ex-boyfriend, even if he had been my fiancé. Would I mind if James's ex-girlfriend pitched up? Of course I bloody would. Except, I knew he hadn't had his heart broken by Henrietta. He'd split up with her, so perhaps I wouldn't mind. Perhaps that was different. Yes, it was. But broken hearts mend, and mine had, I thought defiantly, looking at Max chatting and laughing with Toby, Tara and Jean-Claude. Did I honestly feel anything? No. Not in that way. But I was horribly jolted, which wasn't what I'd wanted on my one proper break of the year, particularly such a special one. It dawned on me that, actually, I was furious.

Max deliberately wasn't looking at me, no doubt feeling my eyes on him, but when he excused himself and went inside to go to the loo, I slid away and entered the house via a side entrance, knowing I could intercept him in the corridor. I slipped into the sitting room, which was in darkness, its open double doors giving on to the dimly lit corridor. He tried a few doors before he found the right one and, from my vantage point, I saw he'd put on a bit of weight around the middle. Good. I waited until he'd come out of the bathroom.

‘Max, what are you doing here?'

He pretended to look surprised to see me, but I wasn't fooled. Max and I thought alike. He'd left the table deliberately. Had known I'd follow him, I realized with a start. One–nil to him already. His eyes sparkled mischievously in the gloom.

‘I'm here with Sally, of course,' he said facetiously. ‘I thought you knew.'

‘Did you? Did you ask her to let me know?'

‘Oh,
I didn't do that, but you knew she was bringing someone. You could have asked.'

‘I didn't imagine I'd know a man she'd met in Scotland.'

‘Does it make a difference, Flora? It's been a very long time.'

‘Of course not!' I blustered. ‘I just think it's extraordinary of her not to say, that's all.'

He smiled. ‘I think she wanted to surprise you.'

‘Yes, she would.' So he knew that much about her. ‘What are you doing with her, Max?'

‘That's a bit churlish, Flora. She's a lovely girl.'

We stared at one another. He knew I couldn't gainsay that. I knew he didn't mean it. Or thought I knew. I couldn't actually read his mind, of course. And he clearly hadn't known her long – was I being paranoid? And horribly unkind?

‘She's frightfully glamorous and great fun. Just what I need at the moment.'

I raised my chin. ‘I'm sorry it didn't work out with Mimi.' I'd heard through Lucy that they'd parted.

‘I'm sorry, too. But I shouldn't have married her. We married in a bit of a rush, for the wrong reasons.'

‘What were those?'

‘I think you know, Flora.'

‘If you're implying for one second that it was my fault, and that you married her on the rebound, it doesn't say much for your character, Max.'

How odd. We'd slipped into talking very earnestly and personally to each other, in furious whispers, as if we'd last seen each other yesterday: this man I hadn't set eyes on for twenty years. As if I'd just picked up the phone when he
refused to stop ringing me at Mum's, or bumped into him as he doorstepped me yet again outside her house on my way to work, launching into another row about Mimi. Him telling me she'd wanted her revenge, served cold, that he'd just been a pawn in her game. We both had. That we shouldn't let her win. Trying to persuade me to have a coffee with him round the corner, to listen to him for just two minutes.

‘And you didn't?' He gazed at me intently.

‘What?'

‘Marry on the rebound?'

‘Of course not! How dare you!'