respond, an obsequious waiter had ushered him to the landing where it wasn’t quite so hallowed: media-whores milling, fat-cats in suits who spoke too loudly and under-dressed girls who simpered, fingers in ears against all the other loud and self-important chat.
Numbly I stared at Broadcast . I was sure Renee’s eye-bags had been doctored. Then Charlie was back, swinging his cashmere camel coat from the back of the chair, draping it over his shoulders like he was in The bloody Godfather . Well. He was a bloody hood, for all his supposed charm.
‘As soon as that cast is off, back in the office, okay, darling?’ It wasn’t an invitation. Charlie raised one perfectly manicured finger and slowly, slowly stroked my cheek. ‘You know I need you, Maggie. I miss you. You’re the best, despite your little balls-up. But it could be your final chance, darling. Crosswell would see to that in one fell swoop. You do remember Sam, don’t you? I’ll see you at work.’
When I dragged myself outside again, I searched for Alex everywhere – but there were just early revellers, beautiful toned gay men, excited theatre-goers. My ghost was gone.
Chapter Six
The day after my plaster-cast finally came off, Bel and Johnno got married. I’d never seen Bel looking quite so alive, as she stood smiling on the Registry steps on the Kings Road waiting to go in, clutching onto Johnno under a great scarlet umbrella like they’d never ever part, white velvet collar turned up high, setting off her blonde urchin cut and her beaming pixie face, a proper winter bride. And Johnno, oh God, he looked so proud, small and stocky but still towering over Bel’s birdlike form. Hannah stood tiny in sparkly white beside them, her patent shoes all shiny, holding her mother’s hand, beaming, the spit (thank the Lord) of Bel. I was overjoyed that Bel had finally recovered from the utter disaster of Hannah’s father: the hippy painter who had promised Bel the world and then vanished to Morocco with his other pregnant lover the week before Hannah was born. The father who’d never bothered to meet his adorable daughter.
I stood on the pavement, filming them with my little video camera – Bel’s parents and her brothers all cheering with joy. The way Bel looked at Johnno now was enough to give you hope.
The Christmas decorations were already up, although it was only November. The lampposts fizzed with electric blue stars and Hannah pointed a tiny hand and sang ‘Twinkle, twinkle, little Mummy’, and everybody laughed until Hannah went beet-red with excitement and overbalanced doing the deep curtsiesshe’d learned in ballet. And for a moment, for one long moment, I felt happy, happier than I’d been in such a long time.
I was just calling to Bel to describe how she felt on this auspicious day, in her last few moments before she become a Mrs for all time, when her face dropped visibly. Frowning, I lowered the camera. She was looking at something over my shoulder, and then she wrinkled her brow and Johnno looked in the same direction, then stooped and whispered in her ear. And then I felt them both gazing at me, and an icy claw crept down my back and I turned round quickly –
And there he was. Just standing there, just like that, as if everything was fine. He had both hands shoved deep in the pockets of an extremely smart dark suit, a suit he’d never have worn when he was with me, and for a moment he looked guarded – but then he caught my startled eye and slowly smiled. I felt a pain, like someone had just got hold of my heart and was slowly pulling the bleeding flesh out through my chest, as I stared at him. And then, as if in slow motion, I saw him put one long hand out behind him, and I saw a leather-gloved hand slip into his, and he pulled the owner, the girl who wore it, forwards.
A great gust of wind blew down the road. The trees leaned right over under the weight and the blue stars wobbled and Bel’s mother’s fussy pillbox hat went
Numbly I stared at Broadcast . I was sure Renee’s eye-bags had been doctored. Then Charlie was back, swinging his cashmere camel coat from the back of the chair, draping it over his shoulders like he was in The bloody Godfather . Well. He was a bloody hood, for all his supposed charm.
‘As soon as that cast is off, back in the office, okay, darling?’ It wasn’t an invitation. Charlie raised one perfectly manicured finger and slowly, slowly stroked my cheek. ‘You know I need you, Maggie. I miss you. You’re the best, despite your little balls-up. But it could be your final chance, darling. Crosswell would see to that in one fell swoop. You do remember Sam, don’t you? I’ll see you at work.’
When I dragged myself outside again, I searched for Alex everywhere – but there were just early revellers, beautiful toned gay men, excited theatre-goers. My ghost was gone.
Chapter Six
The day after my plaster-cast finally came off, Bel and Johnno got married. I’d never seen Bel looking quite so alive, as she stood smiling on the Registry steps on the Kings Road waiting to go in, clutching onto Johnno under a great scarlet umbrella like they’d never ever part, white velvet collar turned up high, setting off her blonde urchin cut and her beaming pixie face, a proper winter bride. And Johnno, oh God, he looked so proud, small and stocky but still towering over Bel’s birdlike form. Hannah stood tiny in sparkly white beside them, her patent shoes all shiny, holding her mother’s hand, beaming, the spit (thank the Lord) of Bel. I was overjoyed that Bel had finally recovered from the utter disaster of Hannah’s father: the hippy painter who had promised Bel the world and then vanished to Morocco with his other pregnant lover the week before Hannah was born. The father who’d never bothered to meet his adorable daughter.
I stood on the pavement, filming them with my little video camera – Bel’s parents and her brothers all cheering with joy. The way Bel looked at Johnno now was enough to give you hope.
The Christmas decorations were already up, although it was only November. The lampposts fizzed with electric blue stars and Hannah pointed a tiny hand and sang ‘Twinkle, twinkle, little Mummy’, and everybody laughed until Hannah went beet-red with excitement and overbalanced doing the deep curtsiesshe’d learned in ballet. And for a moment, for one long moment, I felt happy, happier than I’d been in such a long time.
I was just calling to Bel to describe how she felt on this auspicious day, in her last few moments before she become a Mrs for all time, when her face dropped visibly. Frowning, I lowered the camera. She was looking at something over my shoulder, and then she wrinkled her brow and Johnno looked in the same direction, then stooped and whispered in her ear. And then I felt them both gazing at me, and an icy claw crept down my back and I turned round quickly –
And there he was. Just standing there, just like that, as if everything was fine. He had both hands shoved deep in the pockets of an extremely smart dark suit, a suit he’d never have worn when he was with me, and for a moment he looked guarded – but then he caught my startled eye and slowly smiled. I felt a pain, like someone had just got hold of my heart and was slowly pulling the bleeding flesh out through my chest, as I stared at him. And then, as if in slow motion, I saw him put one long hand out behind him, and I saw a leather-gloved hand slip into his, and he pulled the owner, the girl who wore it, forwards.
A great gust of wind blew down the road. The trees leaned right over under the weight and the blue stars wobbled and Bel’s mother’s fussy pillbox hat went
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