Using every ounce of strength that she had, she straightened her arms and passed a wriggling Romany over to him. He took her, holding her under her arms, her legs kicking beneath her. Then he pulled her into his chest and held her tightly. His face twisted and tears began to trickle down his cheeks as he stroked her fair, wispy hair. Angie watched dispassionately, shielding her heart from any emotional response, just as she had learned to do as a child.
Romany began to grizzle and Jax threw Angie an anxious look, seeking guidance on what he should do.
‘She’s hungry,’ Angie said flatly.
She took the baby back and immediately Romany began to root against her T-shirt, banging her little head on Angie’s collarbone in frustration.
‘Maybe I should go,’ said Jax uncertainly.
‘Yes. Probably,’ Angie replied.
He looked lost and forlorn and filled with regret, but he only had himself to blame for her response. She sat down on the sofa and began to prepare to feed Romany. She didn’t look at him.
‘Is that it, then?’ he asked, making one last stab at getting her to engage, feeble though it was. Four words to save four years.
Angie had to make a choice. He seemed to want to keep in touch on some level, although there had been no suggestion of any financial contribution which would have been the most help. If it were up to her, she would let him leave and drop all contact. But this wasn’t about her. It was about Romany. She needed to leave the door open for her child.
‘Let’s see, shall we?’ she said.
It was the best she could offer.
28
2006
Having a party for her fortieth birthday had seemed like such a great idea to Maggie back in January when she and Angie had first mooted it. Angie had also turned forty earlier that year but, as she had pointed out, Maggie’s house was far more suitable for a grown-up party than her little flat. And so Maggie, wooed by the idea of a social occasion that was too far away to worry about, had agreed. But now that the event was upon her, she was far less convinced.
It was never going to be a big do. Maggie had invited her team from the office plus their partners, which amounted to around thirty people. She could have told herself it had been a conscious decision to stick to just this social group so that everyone got along, which would make for a better party, but in truth Maggie knew that her colleagues were her social group. She had neither the time not the inclination to nurture any other friendships.
And anyway, she had her ‘uni bunch’， which was how she described them to anyone who asked. Angie and Romany were coming, as were Leon and Becky with their sons Thomas and James. And possibly Tiger. Maggie knew it was doubtful that Tiger would show up. She wasn’t even convinced that he would have got the invitation. Angie said that he did pop into internet cafés from time to time so he might have seen her email, but if he had then he hadn’t bothered to reply. So, whenever the butterflies had started up in her stomach at the possibility of seeing him, Maggie had wafted them away. She needed to grow out of Tiger.
The weather forecast was appalling so, of course, they were having a barbecue, with carefully selected meat alternatives for the vegetarians. In the planning stage, she had pictured her guests milling happily on the lawn in the late afternoon sunshine and only drifting inside when the autumn chill sent them in search of warmth. And even then, she’d secretly hoped that they would stay outside and not traipse dirt into her house. But there was no hope of that now. All her guests, adults and children alike, would have to be entertained indoors.
She had bought a gazebo so she could still cook outside at least, but as for the rest of it, they would definitely be in the house. Maggie looked at her pale cream carpets and the French-polished coffee table and sighed. C’est la vie.
Angie and Romany arrived first, by arrangement, in order to provide moral support. Angie was carrying an enormous birthday cake. Every available inch of its chocolate coating was adorned with a sweet of some kind and it was dotted all over with candles, many sticking out from the sides at ninety degrees so that the wax would drip directly on to whatever it sat on instead of dribbling neatly down to the candle holders. Maggie’s face burst into a smile the moment she saw it.
‘Happy birthday, Auntie Maggie,’ said Romany, grinning and bouncing on her toes at Angie’s side. ‘Do you like your cake? I decorated it, didn’t I, Mummy?’
So much was obvious, and Maggie felt her heart swell at the effort that Romany had clearly made for her and for Angie, who had made it happen.
‘I LOVE my cake,’ said Maggie, bending down and sweeping Romany up into a hug. At almost six, she was getting a little bit big to be lifted like this, but she wrapped her legs around Maggie’s hips and did her best to help bear the load. ‘Thank you, Romany!’ She showered Romany with little kisses on the top of her head.