One Day in May - Catherine Alliott [112]
For some reason I thought of Hal.
‘Oh. Ivan’s… good.’ I walked over to the tall French windows. Gazed out. ‘Lovely.’ For a reason I couldn’t quite fathom, I didn’t want to talk about it. ‘And France was good too. I got some terrific things in Montauroux for the shop, and for here too, come to that. I’ll bring them down next weekend.’
‘Good. I tried to ring you but your mobile’s always off. Too busy with Ivan, I expect.’
‘Yeah, Ivan and I had a great time.’
‘Bonking for Britain.’ She grinned. But as ever with Maggie, I felt some disapproval behind the smile. Just as I had always cautioned her about Henry, so she would put the brakes on me too. We knew where our duty lay. We wanted one another to be happy, but we would never entirely encourage each other’s hopeless relationships. I had other girlfriends who’d say, ‘How exciting, a younger man! Lucky you!’ But I knew that behind the apparent envy lurked a deeper knowledge: that the relationship was doomed and they were all set to view the car-crash with their popcorn. Only Maggie voiced caution, and I considered it the true hand of friendship. But now Henry was gone, would she disapprove even more, I wondered nervously. Now she was in the clear, as it were?
‘You didn’t get a peek at his passport, I suppose? Discover just how young our Romeo is?’ Ah yes, she would.
‘No.’ I cranked up a smile. ‘And as usual I kept mine firmly in my underpants.’
‘Which I suspect is the first place he’d look.’
I laughed. Then my smile faded. I narrowed my eyes to the view, to the fields beyond: suddenly I wanted her caution. Her hand on the brake.
‘It’s all bollocks, though, isn’t it, Maggie?’ I said softly. ‘Me and Ivan? It’s going nowhere.’
I felt my heart leap with fear. Waited for her to rush in. Agree. Held my breath. She didn’t answer. I looked at her anxiously. As usual she disarmed me.
‘Oh God, who knows,’ she sighed eventually. ‘Who’s to say what’s a right or a wrong relationship? What, at the end of the day, can we do, but follow our hearts?’
She fingered the silk curtains thoughtfully. Dropped them and smiled ruefully. ‘I can’t make your decisions for you, Hatts. They have to be your own. From here.’ She made a fist and thumped her chest.
I nodded. And then I wondered why I wasn’t telling her about Hal. Under normal circumstances this would be the moment for some You’ll-never-guess-who-I-met chat, but something made me open my mouth, then close it again.
‘Is he back?’ She eyed me knowingly.
‘Who?’ My heart pumped.
‘Ivan.’ She frowned. ‘Who did you think I meant?’
‘Oh. Um, I don’t know. Yes, Ivan probably is back by now.’ I could feel myself blushing. ‘But I came home before him, because of all this wretched business with Seffy.’
‘I heard. But don’t be too hard on him, Hattie.’ She put a hand on my shoulder.
I said it before she could, not wanting to hear it. ‘I know, it could be worse.’
I moved away quickly, crossing to the door.
By the time we all sat down for sausage and mash, we were pretty well oiled. Laura and I had obviously had a head start with the gin, but Maggie and Ralph had evidently shifted a fair amount too. Seffy and Luca were both on beer, and only Hugh, it seemed, was sober. Ralph, it became increasingly clear, had cast himself as the life and soul of the party, which, because she wasn’t speaking to him, forced Maggie into an unattractive corner, rendering her snappy and brittle. His tales of warring clients, a husband who wanted every room a different shade of yellow and ran from room to room shouting, ‘More sunshine! More sunshine!’ whilst his wife plopped a speck of blue in each to turn them closer to urine, got more outrageous and no doubt more apocryphal. But we all laughed anyway, apart from Maggie, whose mouth tightened disdainfully. He’d obviously got his feet firmly under this particular table, I thought as I toyed with my mash. I wondered how long he’d been here? It