Impossible to Forget(69)

Angie shook her head. ‘No thanks,’ she said.

Maggie got a ten-pound note out of her purse and handed it to Romany.

‘Thanks, Auntie Maggie,’ she said, and then strolled off in the direction of the kiosk.

Maggie looked straight at Angie. ‘What on earth was that all about?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know,’ replied Angie. ‘I saw those photos, all with dads in them, and suddenly it felt like I had to ask. I’m sorry. I probably should have waited until we got home.’

‘Don’t worry about me,’ Maggie said. ‘Romey seems pretty clear on what she wants.’

Angie laughed. ‘She does, doesn’t she?’

‘She’s definitely your daughter! But he’s not here, is he?’ Maggie’s eyes narrowed as she searched Angie’s face for any sign of a lie.

‘No. No, he isn’t. I haven’t heard from him for years.’

‘Good. Because that would be really bad, if you suddenly brought him back into her life when she’s just said that she doesn’t want him.’

Angie nodded. Maggie was right. And yet . . .

‘I hope she changes her mind, though,’ Angie said. ‘When she’s older, I mean. He wouldn’t win any prizes for Partner of the Year, but he’s not a bad bloke. Not deep down. It would be good for them to get to know each other eventually.’

‘Possibly. But she’s only fifteen. There will be plenty of time for all that when she’s worked out who she is. And, as we know,’ Maggie added, ‘that can take quite a long time.’

Romany was coming back across the grass with a cone in one hand and a long bright orange lollipop in the other.

‘Thanks, Maggie,’ said Angie.

‘What for? I haven’t done anything.’

‘You’ve done plenty,’ replied Angie. ‘You’ll never know how much.’





35


Maggie let herself out of Leon’s flat and set off in the direction of the train station. The first few times she had made the trip across to Leeds she had driven, but actually, she found the half-hour’s train journey quite restorative, and now that she had time on her hands, she didn’t mind the forty-five-minute walk from York station to her house. Also, she had started leaving a few bits and pieces at Leon’s, toiletries mainly, so she didn’t have to take a bag each time she went, and it was working well.

It had taken them both by surprise, this . . . she wasn’t sure what to call it. Relationship sounded so grown up, but she supposed that that was what it was.

The first time they had had sex had been the night of the thirty years’ reunion. It hadn’t been on the cards, or definitely not Maggie’s cards, when she had suggested that he stay the night with her. But somehow, when they got home, their bodies had had other ideas.

It had begun with one of those corny moments that you see in a film. Maggie stumbled a little as she stepped into the house, and Leon put out a hand to steady her, their faces close, closer than Maggie had ever been to him before. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek and watched the look in his eyes change from surprise at their proximity to desire. Then they had kissed, tentatively at first, each not sure what the other wanted, and then with a passion that Maggie had rarely experienced.

The resulting sex had been frenzied and urgent. They were in her kitchen, her back against the cupboards. They didn’t bother to get undressed, simply removing the articles of clothing that impeded them. This too might have been shot in a studio, except that they were both so drunk that they found everything funny rather than smouldering.

Afterwards, sitting rather awkwardly opposite each other at her kitchen table and drinking hastily brewed coffee, they had been more shell-shocked than anything. Maggie had never thought of Leon in those terms before. He was just Leon, her friend. Now, though, she wondered if there had been the odd signal over the years to suggest that the idea had crossed his mind before, signals that she had chosen to ignore. She was probably wrong, though. Reading men wasn’t something that Maggie had had much practice with.

‘Well,’ said Leon, his eyes not meeting hers. ‘That was fun and not quite what I was expecting. Are you okay? I mean, is this okay?’ He looked at her then, a gentle questioning look that told her that the Leon she knew was with her.

Maggie, despite her age and the fact that she had just shared an extremely intimate moment with a man that she had known for more than half her lifetime, was suddenly as shy as a teenager. She could feel her cheeks burning and she lifted her coffee cup up in front of her face to hide them. She wasn’t sure what to say, although she did feel suddenly sober, which was a blessing at least.

‘Yes, I’m fine,’ she managed. And then, ‘I’m not sure what happened.’

Leon’s grin was downright lascivious and threw her even further off-kilter.

‘I know exactly what happened,’ he said. ‘And I’d like to do it again in a bit. If that’s all right with you.’



That had been three months ago, or at least it would be on Saturday. That made her feel like a teenager, counting anniversaries month by month, but was there anything so very wrong with that? There hadn’t been time to behave like a teenager when she had been one. She had been too intent on where she was going and how quickly she could get there to be bothered with such trivialities. Now, though, with the surge of hormones flooding her brain, she wondered whether her younger self might not have got her priorities a little bit out of whack. This being in lust thing was so much fun.