The Friends We Keep(16)

“Julian? I thought that was all over. She said she was dumping him for good after she heard he slept with that frosh.” He rolled his eyes. “She deserves so much better. Why does she put up with someone who treats her so badly?”

“I don’t know. She said Julian wanted to talk, so she might bring him. I don’t know that they’re definitely back together. Please come. I know you said you had work but can’t it wait?”

“Nope. Essay’s due on Monday. Go and get ready and snog someone gorgeous. That’ll stop you from thinking about the cat.”



* * *



? ? ?

The house was dark and packed, the Housemartins and Prefab Sprout blaring from the boom box as Maggie pushed her way through. She had bought a green wrap dress at Warehouse the week before, which showed off both her legs and her cleavage. It was not the sort of dress she usually wore, but she felt sophisticated and sexy, as if she could conquer the world.

Growing up with three brothers, Maggie hadn’t ever learned how to be a girl. She had never gravitated toward dolls, or pink, or flounces, but instead had climbed trees with her brothers and tumbled with them as they wrestled. She was, she told Topher, finally discovering her inner girl. Topher immediately shot back that she was actually discovering her inner middle-aged woman, for it was true, there was something mature about Maggie.

It was her maternal instinct. She was a natural nurturer, never happier than when in the kitchen, experimenting with recipes for her housemates and all their friends. Like her mother, she eschewed makeup and fancy clothes, but Evvie was trying to influence her, to inspire her to look a little more fun, a little more young. That night, Evvie helped her with makeup and hair, lending her huge dangly earrings, making her look at least a little like the young woman she was.

Maggie headed for the kitchen, sucking her stomach in. The problem with cooking so much was all the tasting. She had just made a carrot cake that afternoon, and her stomach was still bloated from licking the bowl.

There were a couple of familiar faces she passed on the way to the kitchen, but no one she knew well. She needed a drink to relax, and there, on the kitchen table, were half-empty bottles of vodka, gin, and tequila, and dozens of cans of beer on every surface. Maggie poured a liberal slug of vodka and downed it in one gulp, before pouring it again.

“I would never have pegged you for a drinker,” said a voice in her ear.

She turned and found herself looking at Evil Ben, inches from her face. Her heart fluttered as she blushed.

“There’s probably a lot about me you don’t know.” It came out sounding more flirtatious than she had meant it to, but Evil Ben raised an eyebrow and smiled, those dimples coming out.

“Cheers,” he said, finishing his beer and reaching for the tequila. “Join me?”

She nodded, aware that he was a little drunk, but not caring. He was the diametric opposite of the person she had thought him to be when she first met him. In fact, he was much more like the man she met on the bench during that walk with her parents. He looked happy, and relaxed. He was smiling, and, was she imagining it, or was he actually—oh please God, let that be the case—flirting with her? Could her mother have been right when she said he liked her?

She didn’t have to wait long to find out.

“I liked your parents,” he said, leading her to believe he was not as drunk as she thought he was. “They weren’t what I would have expected.”

“What does that mean?”

“I thought you were a posh girl. Well, you are a posh girl but your family’s also very down to earth, which I like. And they’re hikers. I never would have thought we’d have so much in common.”

“Who knows what else we might have in common.” Maggie was definitely flirting.

“Wouldn’t that be nice?” He laughed, his dimples showing again as Maggie’s heart flipped. “Shall we find somewhere quiet to talk?” She nodded as he took her hand, her heart leaping into her mouth. He led her through the crowds in the house and into the garden, where they sat on a low stone wall, close together, their legs brushing as Maggie felt sick with nervous anticipation.

“So what makes you tick, Maggie Hallwell? Other than hiking with your parents and almost getting into fights in pubs.”

“Ha ha,” she said, aware of the heat from his leg, a ripple of electricity running through her body when he pressed a little closer. “That was hardly my fault. I’m very nonconfrontational.”

“I don’t believe that,” he said. “I think you’re strong and opinionated.”

“What gave you that idea? Is it just because I’m tall and a bit Amazonian?”

“Amazonian?” He laughed. “That’s not the word I would have used. I would describe you as striking. Stunning, actually. And maybe just a little Amazonian. So are you strong and opinionated then?”

“I’m quite strong,” she admitted. “Three brothers will do that to you. I had to fend for myself.”

He squinted at her. “What’s the other side, Maggie? I think there’s another, softer side. Someone vulnerable and loving.”

Maggie stared at him, not knowing what to say. Of course she had that other side. Didn’t everyone? She didn’t expect Ben to have seen it though.

She shrugged.

“You’re a caretaker,” he said. “I can see that.”