The Friends We Keep(15)

eight


- 1986–1987 -



Long after her parents left, Maggie kept thinking about their walk, bumping into Ben, his hand on her back, her mother and younger brother thinking he might have been interested in her. Mostly, she couldn’t stop thinking about how different he had been then than the times she had seen him in the King’s Head. There he was sullen and stern, whereas he had been warm and easy with her family, charming her parents.

She had a fantasy that he might get in touch with her, even if only as a walking partner. But she didn’t hear from him, and barely saw him after that weekend.

They didn’t go back to the King’s Head much after that terrible night. Evvie got the job at the Golden Lion, which became their regular, and by the time they did go back to the King’s Head, some months later, Evil Ben was no longer working there.

Maggie still saw him around town from time to time, but always at a distance, and he always seemed to be with other people. When Topher spotted him, he would dash back to tell Maggie where he was so the pair of them could run back out and see if there actually had been chemistry between them, to give Maggie a chance to work her magic on him and make him fall in love with her. But he was usually gone, and when he wasn’t, she had always lost her nerve, so they never actually spoke after that first night.

The year passed quickly, and once exams were over, the three of them started looking at houses to live in together in their second year.

They saw two houses off the high street that were so dingy and depressing, Maggie and Topher both said they would rather be homeless than live there.

Evvie eventually found the perfect house. She overheard someone in the pub saying they were moving, and she interrupted, asking about the house. The next day the three of them walked to Castle Street with no expectations, to a terraced house that was filled with light, with large square rooms and an eat-in kitchen that had Maggie sighing with delight.

“I can cook again!” she exclaimed, hugging herself as she whirled around the kitchen. “No more pot noodles! No more crappy food! If we take this house, I promise I will cook for all of us every night.”

“If we take this house?” Topher said. “There is no ‘if.’ This is by far the nicest house we’ve seen. It might be the nicest house in the whole town.” He turned, taking in the spotless carpets, the simple Ikea furniture, the clean paint. “Who was it again that lived here before?”

“A couple of postgrad students,” said the landlord. “One of them is leaving this year so the other decided to move to something smaller by himself. They were great tenants. Kept the place immaculate.” He peered at them. “You know you can’t have any parties here?”

“The only parties we’ll be having are dinner parties.” Topher shot Maggie a look. “We have our mother hen here to stop us from anything more raucous. Not that I would be having parties anyway,” he quickly reassured the landlord. “We will be model students, won’t we, girls?”

“We will!” squealed Maggie, in her excitement throwing her arms around Topher, who allowed it but shrank back, ever so slightly.

“Sorry, sorry!” she babbled. “I forgot you don’t like to be touched.”

“It’s okay.” Topher attempted to laugh it off before turning to the landlord. “See? We don’t even like touching other people. We’re all very dull indeed.”



* * *



? ? ?

They weren’t very dull, but they kept their word about parties in their house. Anyway, it was far too nice for parties, Maggie said. Even if they were allowed, she wouldn’t have wanted to risk messing up the carpets.

Instead, Evvie would make her Jamaican breakfast on the weekends, with Maggie cooking sumptuous cakes and comfort food suppers the rest of the week. Other friends would come over and spend evenings sitting around their kitchen table, talking long into the night.

Toward the end of their second year, they were adopted by a cat. He showed up one morning, meowing in the garden. Maggie opened the back door and the cat came running in, straight to the kitchen, where he kept on meowing until Maggie found a can of tuna lurking in a cupboard and opened it for him. And then, much to Topher’s disgust (he was definitely not a cat person), they appeared to have a cat. Maggie adored him. She named him Colin, and he often jumped up on the sofa when she was sitting there, although he didn’t like to be stroked.

It was a Saturday night when Maggie realized they hadn’t seen Colin in days.

“Thank the lord,” said Topher, before seeing Maggie’s stricken face. “He’s probably gone back to his original family,” he said quickly, relieved the cat had gone, not least because he had been bitten by something a week ago and was convinced Colin had fleas.

“You never liked him.”

“I could lie, but . . . you’re right. Cats don’t just turn up out of nowhere. He wasn’t ours to keep.”

“We didn’t exactly lock him in.”

“No, but you made it very comfortable for him.”

“I’m so sad. What if something’s happened to him?”

“He’ll be fine. He’s a feisty one. You need something to take your mind off the cat. Aren’t you going to that party tonight?”

“I am. Evvie’s meeting me there later with Julian.”