Impossible to forget, p.8
Impossible To Forget, page 8
‘And I’m not trying to do the whole “woe is me” thing,’ Angie continued, ‘but when you get a start like I had, it’s hard enough to plan what you’re going to have for lunch, let alone the rest of your life.’
Maggie had no idea what kind of start Angie had had. It hadn’t been like hers; she knew that much, but because she hadn’t wanted to pry, Maggie was sketchy on the details of Angie’s childhood.
‘I’m sure it was hard,’ she replied vaguely.
‘It was pretty grim. Did you know that my mum got rid of me when I was only ten? Just handed me over to Social Services like I was nothing to do with her any more. And you don’t get much careers advice in children’s homes. They just want to get you through and out the other side without becoming an addict or getting picked up by a pimp, or worse. School was quite helpful. My form teacher went through all the paperwork and that with me. And by some miracle I got the grades and a place here. Then I got a job stacking shelves for a couple of months which meant that I could go travelling, but there’s no grand plan, not like you have. In fact, there’s no plan at all.’
Maggie shook her head silently. She suddenly felt very humble. ‘You’ve achieved so much already,’ she said. ‘I basically had uni handed to me on a plate. All I had to do was keep doing as I was told. But you. To get over all those hurdles. It’s a miracle. It really is.’
The pride that Maggie had felt moments before evaporated. What had she actually achieved when you stood it next to what Angie had done so far? And seen in this context, Angie’s more irritating habits made more sense – the borrowing of things, the food-taking, all of it. Maggie felt ashamed. Who was she to be so precious about a few tins of beans in the light of all that?
Angie shrugged. ‘I don’t know about any miracles,’ she said with an eye roll. ‘I’m not Jesus Christ. But I have had to decide stuff for myself. And it’s hard. And sometimes, like today, it’s scary too.’
‘Well, I’d suggest you stop listening to Tiger,’ Maggie said. ‘His counsel’s not that wise.’
The ghost of a smile crossed Angie’s face. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Tiger’s talents lie in other directions. As I think you’ve noticed.’ She raised an eyebrow at Maggie.
‘Tiger’s a nice bloke,’ Maggie replied weakly. She still wasn’t clear what there was between Angie and Tiger and she didn’t want to overstep any marks.
‘He is,’ said Angie. ‘Heart of gold, really.’
She grinned properly and it was as if the old Angie had re-entered the room, the only sign that there had been anything wrong being the pile of snotty loo roll on the floor.
‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ Maggie asked, reeling slightly at the sudden change of direction.
‘God, yes,’ said Angie dismissively. ‘And I need to get a shift on or I’m going to be late for my lecture.’
She swept all the balls of tissue paper into her hands, stood up and deposited them in the wicker bin by the desk. It felt to Maggie as if Angie was scrubbing the last few minutes out of existence and she wondered whether she would regret her candour later. Well, that was okay. They weren’t close and were never likely to be. This had probably just been Angie in a rare moment of weakness and she had simply happened to witness it. She hoped she might have helped a little bit, though. And she would try to be more forgiving from now on, now that she had a better idea of where Angie was coming from.
She stood up too and crossed the room to the door, stepping over Angie’s discarded clothes and books as she went.
‘Right,’ she said, ‘I’d better get on, too. Have a good day. I’ll see you later.’
‘Sure will,’ said Angie without looking over. ‘And Maggie . . .’ she added.
Maggie assumed that she was about to receive a word of thanks, but instead Angie said, ‘Me and Tiger.’ She shook her head.
Maggie had no idea what she meant. Was Angie saying that there was nothing between the two of them, or was she warning her off? Either way, it seemed that Maggie had been kidding herself to assume that no one else had noticed the spark in the air between her and Tiger.
She let herself out and closed the door behind her, heading to the kitchen. Her coffee was now half-cold, so she tipped it down the sink and began again. It was a shame, she thought as the kettle reboiled, that she and Angie weren’t closer. Maggie’s conscience was pricking her. She had misjudged her housemate, made assumptions based on what she had seen rather than taking the time to actually get to know her, but maybe it wasn’t too late to change that. And didn’t they both feel that university wasn’t quite turning out to be the highlight that they’d expected? Perhaps they did have something in common, after all.
Her coffee made, she went back to her room and settled herself at her desk. She was just finding the thread of Lord Denning’s argument in the case that she was reading when Angie appeared at the door. She had washed her face and there was no trace of her upset apart from maybe a little puffiness around her eyes. Maggie assumed she was going to tell her something about not being home for dinner or some other domestic banality but instead she met her gaze and said,
‘About before. Thanks, Mags.’
There was something in her tone and the simplicity of what she said that made Maggie feel that something had shifted, some door had been unlocked between them. It was as if they now shared a secret that drew them to one another in a way that they hadn’t been before. The idea made her feel surprisingly warm inside.
‘You’re welcome,’ she replied with a smile.
14
They were enjoying a lazy Saturday morning, Maggie sorting out her notes from the previous week at the kitchen table and Leon reading a magazine. A pot of lukewarm coffee sat between them with an empty bottle of milk and a half-eaten bowl of cornflakes, none of which Maggie had felt the need to clear away.
Tiger sauntered into the kitchen, fully dressed, which was unusual for that time of day. He moved about the room collecting his things with a surprising sense of purpose as Maggie watched, curious about what had prompted the tidy-up but also enjoying having an excuse to focus her attention on him without feeling awkward.
‘I’ll be getting out of your hair tomorrow,’ he said as he unhooked his denim jacket from the back of a chair.
Maggie’s heart jolted. The duration of Tiger’s visit had been characteristically vague, with none of them, including Tiger himself, being quite sure how long he intended to stay. Having overcome her initial wobble at his arrival, she had got used to having him around and felt sure that they were still building up to something, slowly but steadily.
But now, he was leaving, and so soon. Panic flooded through her. She wasn’t sure what she’d been hoping for, but she had expected that there’d be more time for the situation to play itself out.
‘I’ve got a coach booked down to Dover tomorrow,’ Tiger continued, ‘and then I’m heading to St Petersburg.’
‘St Petersburg, as in the Soviet Union?’ clarified Leon, looking up from his copy of New Musical Express and staring at Tiger open-mouthed. ‘I thought we couldn’t get beyond the Iron Curtain. Won’t they just chuck you in a gulag and leave you to rot?’
‘Only in spy novels, mate,’ said Tiger. ‘It’s pretty safe to travel there as long as you don’t do anything stupid. They watch you like a hawk, and you can’t really wander about on your own, but you can go and see. So, I’m catching a train from Paris on Monday night.’
‘What’s this?’ asked Angie, wandering in in an oversized Choose Life T-shirt that had gone a bit grey in the wash and a pair of baggy leggings, her auburn hair tied back with one of Leon’s socks. She had clearly only just got up.
‘Tiger’s leaving us,’ said Leon. ‘Tomorrow.’
Angie crossed the room and threw her arms around Tiger. ‘Oh mate, that’s a bugger. I’ll miss you,’ she said. ‘Where are you going?’
‘St Petersburg,’ replied Tiger.
‘Cool,’ said Angie. ‘Well, we’d better have a send-off party tonight then. Give you something to think about when you’re freezing your bits off in Siberia.’
‘St Petersburg is nowhere near Siberia,’ said Leon. ‘God, Angie, didn’t they teach you anything at school?’
Angie swallowed and Maggie thought of their conversation about her childhood. She wondered how often she got caught out like this, holes in her education exposed. Then again, the geography of the Soviet Union wasn’t Maggie’s specialist subject either.
Angie recovered quickly enough. ‘Absolutely nothing, Leon mate. I know nada, rien, nichts, niets,’ she said wryly.
Maggie noticed that as usual, Angie seemed to have decided to throw a party without any consultation with the rest of them, but for once she didn’t mind. It might be exactly what she and Tiger needed to finally decide where they stood.
‘A party, great idea,’ she said enthusiastically.
Leon gave her a sideways glance, as if he didn’t quite believe what he’d just heard.
‘Just us, or shall we invite a few people over?’ asked Angie.
Maggie, who didn’t have a few people to invite over, would rather that it was just the four of them, but she could see the advantage of a houseful. It would give her and Tiger more opportunity to make themselves scarce without drawing any attention.
‘Let’s see who’s free?’ she said. ‘Make a proper night of it.’
‘Okay. I’ll go and do a ring round. Anyone got a phonecard?’
Maggie rolled her eyes, got the newly purchased phonecard out of her purse and handed it to Angie. ‘Try not to use it all up,’ she said. ‘It’s still got £2.40 on it.’
‘Thanks,’ said Angie, slipping the card into her hair and heading for the door.
‘Aren’t you going to get dressed first?’ asked Maggie, but Angie just shrugged.
By the end of the day, they had mustered about ten guests who had all promised to bring their own drinks. Leon offered to make a chilli, his signature dish, and Maggie bought some plastic plates, forks and cups from Woolworths. Angie made a bowl of her world-famous punch, and they moved Leon’s sound system downstairs so that they could have some music. Maggie knew that it would have made more sense to use hers as her room was on the ground floor, and was immensely grateful to Leon for not suggesting it. Finally, Angie threw scarves over all the lights to create more of an intimate mood and they were ready to party.
The four of them gathered in the lounge and Angie filled plastic cups with punch, handing them round proudly.
‘Best punch you’ll ever drink,’ she said.
Maggie took a sip and recoiled involuntarily. It had quite a kick.
‘What did you put in it?’ she asked through her coughing.
‘Oh, you know,’ replied Angie vaguely. ‘Bit of this, bit of that.’
‘A lot of that,’ laughed Maggie, ‘going by how it tastes.’ But she took another mouthful.
By nine o’clock, no one had arrived.
‘What time did you tell everyone to come?’ asked Leon.
‘I didn’t really. Just said we were having a house party.’
‘So, they might not show up until after the pubs shut, then?’ asked Maggie.
She tried not to let her irritation show, but this was so typically Angie. Maggie didn’t want loads of people she didn’t know arriving at the house at midnight. That wasn’t what she wanted at all, but as the evening wore on and the guests were still conspicuous by their absence, it looked as if she would get her way. No one came.
‘We don’t need anyone else, anyway,’ said Angie, her voice slurring a little as the clock ticked past ten. ‘We’re a party all by ourselves.’
She turned up the volume and ‘Don’t Leave Me This Way’ filled the room.
‘The perfect tune,’ she said, sashaying over to where Tiger was sitting on the sagging sofa. ‘I can’t believe you’re abandoning me again,’ she added as she grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet, almost losing her balance in the process.
‘You could always come with me,’ replied Tiger, immediately finding the beat and moving smoothly into a bouncing movement. He looked as if dancing came as naturally to him as walking. Maggie’s dance style was more step than dance, with a bit of jumping up and down if she’d had too much to drink. She’d like to dance with Tiger, she thought, but having seen him move, her confidence deserted her. She reached for her plastic cup instead and took a deep slug of the eye-watering punch.
‘I can’t,’ shouted Angie, having turned the music up to its maximum. ‘I like it here and I’ve got a degree to get.’
Tiger took her hand and spun her in and out whilst Maggie watched. Part of her longed for it to be her that Tiger was dancing with like that and part of her was relieved that it wasn’t. She had another drink.
‘I’ve got an idea,’ said Leon, disappearing into the kitchen and emerging seconds later with the cornflakes box. He set it on the floor. ‘So, you have to pick the box up in your teeth, but you’re only allowed to have your feet on the floor.’
Maggie wasn’t keen on drinking games as a rule, but this one sounded innocuous enough.
‘Okay,’ said Angie, still dancing with Tiger. ‘Show us how it’s done.’
Leon bent over and easily took the box between his teeth and stood up. He grinned like the cat that had got the cream.
‘I’m not being funny, mate,’ said Tiger, ‘but that’s the crappest game I’ve ever seen.’
Leon raised an eyebrow, unfazed by the criticism. ‘Go on then, Tiger. Be my guest.’ He gestured at the box.
Tiger took a step towards it, looked at it and then began to bend down. It quickly became apparent that he didn’t have the flexibility that Leon had. He straightened up and tried again, this time bending one knee rather than both, and managed to get his face closer to the box but not close enough to pick it up.
‘God, Tiger, you’re rubbish at this,’ laughed Angie. ‘Let me have a go.’
Angie picked the box up but didn’t make it look as easy as Leon had done. ‘Ta dah!’ she said through gritted teeth, the box wavering in the air.
Maggie knew that she was going to have to take her turn, but she had absolutely no idea whether this was something that she could do or not. She didn’t want to look like an idiot if she couldn’t, but she knew she’d look worse if she didn’t try at all.
Angie put the box down. ‘Your turn, Mags,’ she said.
Maggie had rarely felt quite so self-conscious as she folded her body in two and reached for the box, but then was delighted to discover that picking it up was easy. A wave of relief rushed through her.
‘Let me have another go,’ said Tiger and, by copying the one-legged approach that Angie had adopted, he managed to pick the box up without falling over.
‘Okay,’ said Leon, plucking the box from Tiger’s teeth. ‘Now we tear this off’ – he tore a strip of cardboard from the top of the box – ‘and have another go.’
‘I’m going to need another drink if I’m going to get all the way down there,’ laughed Tiger.
They kept going round and round. Tiger dropped out on round three and Angie toppled over on round five and declared herself out. That just left Maggie and Leon. As each bent lower over the remains of the cereal box, Angie and Tiger cheered and whooped as if it were an Olympic sport.
Maggie hadn’t thought herself to be particularly competitive, but with the punch racing round her bloodstream and Tiger watching her, she found that she really wanted to win. As the box got lower and lower the feeling grew. Leon was stiff competition, though, and they matched each other until there were only a couple of inches left of the box.
Leon went first. He was still making it look easy, his hips and torso allowing him to bend low enough. It looked as if he could have licked the carpet if he’d needed to.
It was less easy for Maggie. There was a real danger that she would topple over and land on her nose. She repositioned herself, planting her feet further apart, but then she lost her balance and fell. Rolling on to her back, she grinned up at the three faces looking down at her.
‘I give up!’ she said. ‘You win, Leon.’
Leon began a celebratory circuit of the room, arms raised and cheering, and Angie tucked in behind him. Tiger dropped and straddled Maggie, pinning her arms down with his knees.
‘Got you,’ he said. ‘There’s no escape.’
He leant over so that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. She gave a half-hearted struggle to try to get free, but he sat firm, grinning at her. This was the moment, she thought. He was going to kiss her, and she didn’t care that Angie and Leon were there to witness it. She just wanted it to happen. She looked into his face, trying to signal this with her eyes. He must know, surely. They couldn’t get this close to one another and it not lead to a kiss.
But then she heard Leon shout, ‘Maggie’s down. All pile on!’
And then he was on her legs behind Tiger and the moment was gone. She could feel Angie come in and sit behind the two boys, and soon they were all lying on top of her, her breath being forced out of her lungs as their collective weight bore down. She could tell that Tiger was doing his best to take the bulk of their weight with his body, and moments later he tipped to one side and they all fell in a heap on to the carpet, gasping for breath.
‘Are you trying to kill me?’ she laughed, and they all denied it.
One by one they got to their feet, Leon offering Maggie a hand and hauling her up.
‘Well done, Mags,’ he said. ‘A worthy opponent in the cereal box challenge, but, as it turned out, not quite up to the mark!’
‘How did you do that, Lee? You must have been secretly practising for years,’ said Angie. ‘It’s like the bloody saxophone all over again.’
Leon shrugged. ‘I am a man of many hidden talents,’ he said, grinning at her.
‘Hmmm,’ she replied. ‘What time is it anyhow?’
‘It’s nearly twelve thirty,’ said Leon. ‘I don’t think anyone’s coming to our party.’
‘Good job,’ said Tiger. ‘Someone drank all the punch! Well, there’s a bit left. Who wants a bit more?’
