Impossible to Forget(20)

‘He’ll have his sleeping bag,’ Angie replied, as if the comment was so pointless it hardly merited a response.

‘Well, I wouldn’t want to spend every night in a sleeping bag,’ Maggie managed, ‘but if he’s all right with it . . .’

‘Shall I cook?’ asked Leon, figuratively stepping between them. ‘I can do a big pot of chilli for us all.’

Leon’s culinary skills were limited, but his narrow range of dishes were all wholesome and tasty.

‘Great,’ said Angie. ‘Thanks, Leon.’

She gave him a sparking smile. It was no wonder that she had him under her spell, Maggie thought. It worked less well on her, of course.

Maggie had a tutorial to prepare for, so she retreated to her room where she stayed, emerging only to replenish her coffee and make herself a sandwich at lunchtime. When the doorbell rang just after four, she had pretty much forgotten they were to have a houseguest.

And then she remembered. Tiger! Her heart drummed against her ribs, and she tried to tell herself to calm down. There really was no reason to get this excited. It had been one moment in a corridor nine months earlier and she’d probably misinterpreted it anyway. But she couldn’t help herself, and there was nothing wrong with having a bit of a crush, was there?

What should she do? She couldn’t answer the door when she looked so awful. Her plan had been to tidy herself up before he arrived – brush her hair and put a little bit of make-up on, maybe change her top. But then she had become caught up in her tutorial preparation and had lost track of time. And now it was too late. He was here.

As she sat, frozen at her desk trying to decide, the doorbell rang again. Was she the only one in? She hadn’t heard the others go out, but then she had been so engrossed in her work that perhaps she wouldn’t have done. How dreadful did she actually look? Maybe she should just . . .

The doorbell rang for a third time and was accompanied by a rhythmical knocking. She couldn’t leave him just standing on the doorstep.

Then she heard footsteps thundering down the stairs, the door being flung open and squealing from Angie. ‘Hi! How are you? So great to see you! You look amazing. How was France? Did you find the house okay? Oh, it’s so good to see you.’

Maggie could hear the lower rumble of Tiger’s voice, something about getting in the house and a laugh and suddenly she didn’t really care what she looked like any more; she just wanted to say hello. She stood up from her desk, crossed to the door and stuck her head out. Tiger was standing on the doorstep, his rucksack on the pavement next to him. He was tanned to a rich almond and his hair was even blonder than it had been before. Maggie’s whole body shivered. Angie was hanging from his neck, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist like a little monkey. It appeared to be an intimate moment and suddenly Maggie felt as if she were intruding.

Then Tiger caught sight of her over the top of Angie’s head and his smile broadened.

‘Maggie! Hi!’ he mouthed, and something about the way he looked at her told her that she hadn’t misinterpreted anything the last time they’d met.

‘Hi,’ she replied quietly. She needed to remember to breathe.

‘God, I’ve missed you,’ Angie said, sinking her face into his neck, apparently oblivious to the undercurrent that was passing between Maggie and Tiger. ‘Come and have a cup of tea and tell me everything. And no missing anything out. I want to hear all of it!’

She hopped down and then took his hand and pulled him past Maggie’s door and into the heart of the house, leaving her standing there. She thought about following them, but this was so clearly Angie’s moment that she decided against it. There would be plenty of time to catch up later.

She went back to her desk and settled down, but she knew she would struggle to refocus her attention on her books. That smile, that private moment that they had just shared. Whatever there was between the two of them, it was clearly unfinished business.





12


Angie and Tiger chatted continuously until dinnertime. Maggie could hear the low rumble of voices punctuated by peals of laughter coming through the wall into her room. She would have loved to saunter into the sitting room and join in, but she didn’t. It wasn’t that she felt totally excluded, although that was part of it; it was more that this was clearly a precious time for Angie, and somehow, despite the tension that there still was between the two of them, Maggie didn’t wish Angie any ill. She wanted her to enjoy the reunion without anyone getting in the way.

It was clear that Tiger was special to her, that there was a deep bond between them. The separate rooms thing had been a surprise to start with, but actually, the way the pair of them interacted with one another put Maggie more in mind of siblings than lovers. Nothing she had seen had ever led her to a different conclusion, although this might have been wishful thinking on her part.

Then again, she would swear that whatever she had felt between herself and Tiger before was still there. He’d only spoken two words to her, but she knew. More could develop there, if she wanted it to.

But did she? That was the question. Tiger was only passing through. He was like a cowboy in one of those black and white films that her father enjoyed so much, blowing into town and then blowing back out again. And she still couldn’t dismiss the way he had left her standing there in the corridor that time. She had decided then that he was a player, and nothing had happened to change her mind about that. Tiger was definitely a girl-in-every-port kind of bloke, and heartache no doubt followed him around like a shadow. Was there really any point getting herself in a lather about him when he had all this going against him?