‘How did you find out about them?’
Maddie pulled her cardigan tighter around her, the air like a cold breath on her face. She felt wrung out from her monologue – and a little embarrassed. As though she’d exposed herself and was waiting for her audience to laugh at her. Maddie had expected more empathy from her, but Jade just seemed to want gossip. ‘Let’s go inside. I’m cold.’
Jade followed her in, plopping herself on the couch and helping herself to more wine.
‘Then you understand why I can’t let Mark win, right?’ Jade said, bringing the conversation back to herself again. ‘I can’t let him just waltz in and take Ben away from me.’
Maddie sighed. ‘I get it, I do. I can understand how desperate you feel. But I also think it may not be as terrible as you think it will be. There may be joint custody or he may want you to have custody and him to have visitational rights or something. I think you and him should discuss it properly before it gets to court. Look at me and Jemima – she is not mine and I don’t see her every day, much as I wish I could, but I feel whole when I’m with her and I will always be her Aunty Mads. Families come in all shapes and sizes.’
‘But is that enough for you?’
Maddie thought about it, thought about the ache when she said goodbye, thought about how she almost hadn’t brought Ben home earlier that day, how her feet had itched to keep walking and not look back.
‘Most days it is,’ she replied.
Jade sat forward and clutched onto Maddie’s leg, her long talons digging into Maddie’s thigh. ‘Don’t lie to yourself, Maddie. It’s not enough for you and it’s not enough for me.’ Jade chewed on her lip. ‘I can’t afford the legal stuff, so he needs to be out of the picture altogether.’
‘But maybe I could help with money? I could speak to Greg, see if we could come to some sort of arrangement for a loan or something if it would help you with the legal fees?’
Jade sat back against the cushions and looked at her closely. ‘How much money?’
Maddie shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I’d have to talk to him about it.’
Jade looked thoughtful, then drained her glass again. ‘Ok, but in the meantime we work to the original plan. If Mark is out of the picture, then I don’t have anything to worry about. We can get them both out of the picture so that we are set for the future. Maybe we could even look at moving in together afterwards, the three of us – you, me and Ben. Imagine all of us living in that lovely big house of yours. You’d love that, wouldn’t you? Seeing Ben every day?’ Her eyes were manic discs, spinning and sparking, as she sat forward again. ‘You must want to be free of Greg? A constant reminder of what you’ve lost. Him cheating on you after everything you’ve been through. That woman taunting you, parading her child in front of you. I saw your face that day when we broke in. You would love to be back there. For me, knowing that I am free of Mark, that I can live without worrying about it every day. That’s what I want. And you need a clean break. Living your life vicariously through Greg’s child with another woman is weird.’
Maddie could feel unease creeping up her throat. ‘I don’t know if I do want to be free of Greg. I’ve known him all my adult life, he’s a part of me. And I quite like my life now, this place.’
‘God, you’re such a sap! Have some balls. Stand up for yourself! And stop lying to yourself.’ Spittle flew from her lips. ‘Where’s your pride?’
Maddie could feel her own anger bubbling. ‘What do you want from me? You keep saying you want me to help you, but it’s only on your terms. It’s so black and white to you. There is a solution and we will find it. You just have to slow down, take a breath and think rationally about it all.’
‘But you’ve just offered his money! Are you saying you aren’t going to ask him for me now?’
Maddie realised there was no talking to her tonight. She was drunk, contradictory and irrational, lurching from one thing to the next.
‘That’s not what I said. Look, let’s talk about it when we’re sober. I’m tired.’
‘Oh right, so you want me to leave?’
‘Well, I—’
‘Fine, I know when I’m not wanted.’ Jade heaved to her feet and stormed from the flat, slamming the door behind her.
Minutes later, loud music started blasting from the flat above, the bass vibrating through the floor.
Maddie sighed, thinking over what had just happened, trying to understand Jade, make sense of it all. Part of her brain was telling her that Jade had a point. What if the three of them could move into the big house that was built for a family? She and Greg weren’t divorced yet. Half of that house was still hers.
She felt a flicker of joy as she thought about decorating the nursery one more time, but this time for a three-year-old boy with a serious smile and a love of cars. Maybe getting him one of those racing car beds.
No, she was letting her brain fog up again with daydreams, like that day with Mia. It was the wine talking.
She grabbed her phone to distract herself and found her fingers opening Facebook, looking at Greg’s profile again. She opened a post from a few months ago – a photo of him and Gemma on her birthday, posing in London with the Thames behind them and the twinkling lights illuminating their happiness. Looking at them, all glowing and smug, she had a moment where she could imagine a life without them in it, without Gemma’s shadow hanging over everything. Maybe Jade’s crazy idea wasn’t so crazy after all…
She zoomed into their faces, not sure what she was hoping to see. Then she noticed the necklace Gemma was wearing. It was a silver lightning bolt. She’d seen that somewhere before… recently…
Jade had been wearing it the other day.
Maddie sat back against the couch cushions, her mind reeling.
She must’ve taken it from the house. She’d stolen it.
THEN
The parking lot at the swimming pool is surprisingly quiet today. Usually, at this time of the morning, I have to park in a side street and walk over the road because my session coincides with the old biddies doing aqua aerobics in a section of the large pool. I like watching them bounce and jiggle to eighties hits blasting in distorted melody as the instructor cajoles the bobbing swimming caps in front of her to mimic her high-energy moves. The ladies – and occasional man – are always smiling, pleased to see each other and having fun. They look out for each other too. If Joan hasn’t been to a session for a while, they rally round and someone volunteers to check on her; when Sandra had her hip op, they clubbed together to send her flowers. They chat loudly in the changing rooms as they strip down to nothing, not afraid to bear their wrinkly bottoms and sagging boobs while discussing the Chelsea Flower Show and what the frost has done to their allotments.
This kind of community spirit is something I don’t get to revel in much. I still feel hopelessly alone most days and can’t remember the last time someone checked on my wellbeing. Greg says the right things – ‘Are you ok? Can I do anything? How are you feeling today?’ – but there’s an absentmindedness about the questions, as though he’s asking because he knows he should, but he’s too busy with his own grief to hear the answers anymore.