Maame(57)

“Hello, I’m Sophie,” she says quietly.

“Maddie,” I say just as quietly. I don’t want to risk being heard over Ben’s speech, but I also want to ask why her name is so familiar.

“How do you know Ben?” she asks.

Her voice makes me shiver and the word “saccharine” comes to mind.

“Oh, erm, he’s my boyfriend. We’ve been dating for a while.”

She coughs in surprise, placing a hand to her chest. “Are you sure?” she asks.

I turn to her and frown. “That would be an odd thing to be uncertain about.”

She smiles, and I don’t like it. It triggers something in my brain and I ask, “How do you know Ben?”

“I’m also dating him.”

My mouth opens but no words come out.

She smiles again. “Well, I suppose we haven’t yet had the exclusive conversation,” she says, “but I assumed we were, seeing as I met his parents last weekend.”

“Last weekend?” I pause. “So the … the Saturday?”

She nods, frowning.

“So he slept with me on Sunday…” I’m blinking a lot and my throat feels tight “… after having introduced you to his parents the previous day?”

“You’re joking.” She rounds on me, and I notice by way of her tight dress that she has an exaggerated hourglass figure. I wonder how much pasta and ice-cream sundaes she eats, if any. “Or is that your deal then?” she asks me. “Were you actually dating?”

“Were?”

“Or were you just fucking him?”

I don’t know what to say, and I feel very small. I should own a second, taller pair of heels.

I step back. “No! I mean we are dating; we do date, we eat dinner. He makes me pasta.”

She scrunches her face, and it creases her makeup.

“We went to the cinema once.”

“Once? Oh.”

My chest burns when I realize she’s downgraded me from threat to mere obstacle.

“I’m guessing the two of you … have done more than that?”

There’s a deafening silence. The speech has stopped mid-sentence. Everyone looks at Ben, but he only looks at the two of us.

“Ahem, Ben,” says Eric.

He blinks. “Sorry, where was I? Yes, the foundation of this company…” He continues, but his eyes remain on us.

“Yes,” Sophie says. “But apart from meeting his family for dinner, nothing serious. A few gatherings with his friends, dinners out, midnight walks. Oh, God. Did he take you on that canal boat ride too?”

I just blink, and she rolls her eyes.

“Here was me thinking I was special,” she says.

She knows she is.

“Now I’m furious I gave in and slept with him last night.” She doesn’t look furious. “My own fault. My friends kept saying you can’t trust a man who wants to ‘wait until we know each other a bit better.’ I hope you’re going to give him hell for this.” She straightens her shoulders and tilts back her head. “I certainly am. No offense, Maggie, but I don’t share.”

“Excuse me.”

I leave the room with a familiar ringing in my ears. My vision’s blurred, so I can’t see the way I came in and instead keep walking down a long corridor. My stomach hurts and my chest is shrinking; I need to lie down. There’s a dark section between two doors that I melt into. There’s not much space, so I sit on the floor with my knees to my chest and my eyes shut.

I hear Ben walk past, quietly calling my name, then, “Soph, what did you say to her?”

“You were dating the two of us?” Now she sounds furious. “Tell me it wasn’t serious. I didn’t think that was your type.”

“Not now,” Ben says. “I need to find her.”

“Why?” Sophie asks. “She’s obviously gone home. You can go and see her tomorrow, to tell her it’s over, but everyone in that room is going to start asking questions if we don’t get back in there.” She clicks her fingers and holds out her hand. She has on fake nails so long they curl at the end. Ben hesitates, but eventually takes it. Hand in hand, they walk away.

I hear Ben say, “Sorry about that,” before the doors close. He may have been addressing the room or talking to Sophie. I’ll never know.

I wait in the dark for a bit longer before crawling out.

The receptionist is still there.

“Miss Wright, are you leaving already? Is everything okay?”

At least she remembers my name.

I nod, even though mascara has dried on my cheeks and I’m holding my heels. The bottom of my feet will be caked with dirt, but worse things have happened this week. I exit through the glass doors and watch the hordes entering and leaving the train station before calling for an Uber.

Thankfully, the driver’s not a talker, which explains why he’s rated so highly on the app. He takes one look at me, says, “Rough night, huh?” then puts the music on a little louder.

I sit with my head against the window watching the city’s lights and the road’s cars and London’s people, and silently cry.





Chapter Twenty-two


Dear Maddie,

Flowers and a small card to let you know how much we are all thinking of you and your family as you endure this sad and difficult time. I was so sorry to hear your news and wish you much love as you remember your dad and learn to live with this loss.