“So, you know Maddie, do you?” she asked pleasantly, scooping loose tea into the pot from a tin that once contained Bassett’s Liquorice Allsorts. She flicked me a brief bright glance. It was disconcerting to be staring into Sean’s ebony eyes set deep in a lined face.
“Erm, no, not really. I used to know Sean – a few years ago,” I said cautiously, watching as she grabbed her rolling pin and began vigorously flattening a dusty circle of pastry on the kitchen table. “I was wanting to see him about his brother.”
“Oh, that boy,” she said, but gently, with affection. She dunked a hand into an open bag of flour and flumped more of it onto the table. “He’s caused me some troubles,” she added, smiling again, “but if Roger grows out of it like Sean, I’ll count myself blessed.”
“You have a daughter as well, don’t you?” I asked, making conversation.
Just for a second, her busy hands stilled, then they were off again, as though the flag was down and the clock was against her. “Yes, yes I do,” she said, distractedly. “My Ursula’s not living at home any more. Oh, now, there’s that kettle.” She turned and sloshed the boiling water into the teapot so recklessly I feared she’d scald herself, but most of the liquid went where it was aimed.
“We’ve had a bit of a falling out,” she went on with unexpected candour when the teapot lid was safely rammed on and a rabbit-shaped cosy in place over the top.
Another quick smile, then she lowered her voice. “Between you and me, she’s gone and got herself into trouble. Won’t tell us who the father is. Sean’s been to see her, but he said she wouldn’t tell him anything either. I was hoping Maddie might be able to get through to her. She’s good at that, bless her, but no such luck.”
Sean’s mother seemed so keen to impart information that I couldn’t resist a little delicate pumping. “Madeleine – erm, Maddie – seems very nice,” I ventured.
The ploy, lame as it was, worked. Mrs Meyer plonked milk into the mugs, then poured the tea through a plastic strainer, handing mine across with a smile of satisfaction creating a new set of creases on her face.
“Yes, she is, isn’t she? Between you and me, I keep hoping she and Sean will name the day,” she said happily. “There now, I’ve surprised you. But, it’s two years they’ve been courting. That’s time enough to see if you’re suited, don’t you think? Besides, I keep telling them I want some grandchildren while I’m still young enough to cope with them.”
“You’ll never be too old to cope with kids, Mrs M,” Madeleine said from the doorway. “Oh good, is there any more tea in that pot? I’m dying for a cuppa.”
“Did you win?” I asked, taking a sip of my own tea and discovering it surprisingly thick and strong, with the hard smack of tannin following on.
“Of course,” Madeleine grinned, helping herself to a mug from the wall. She looked very much at home, not having to wait politely for service, like a guest. Or an outsider. I tried to work out why that should bother me so much.
“I’ll never understand those space invader games if I live to be a hundred,” Mrs Meyer put in, deftly peeling up the now wafer-thin pastry and flopping it over a ready-greased pie dish.
“They’re easy,” Madeleine shrugged. “You’d soon pick it up if you put your mind to it.” She leaned over the kitchen table as she passed and filched a cherry from the bowl waiting to fill the pie.
“Go on, out of my kitchen, you.” Mrs Meyer batted affectionately at her hand, but didn’t look in the least offended, despite the words. “You can have some when it’s done, and not before. You’re as bad as the children.”
Madeleine just laughed. “Come on, Charlie,” she said. “Let’s drink our tea in the back garden. It’s the only place we’ll get some peace.”
Just then, the two kids who’d been shooting water pistols at each other now reappeared at similar speed, this time duelling with plastic lightsabers and copious verbal sound effects.
Madeleine rolled her eyes as she grabbed a jacket and led the way out through the back door. It opened onto a small neat garden that was mainly gravel and flagging.
There were a couple of benches set against the hedge furthest from the house, under a crab apple tree, and it was there we sat. It was surprisingly tranquil. The only concession to Copthorne’s reputation was the fact that every movable object was chained or concreted to the ground.
Madeleine sighed heavily and slumped down, rubbing her eyes with a weary hand. “Those damned whiny kids,” she said with quiet feeling, digging in her jacket pockets. The search eventually produced a crumpled pack of Marlboro and a Zippo lighter. “Mrs M ends up “sitting for half the neighbourhood, I think. Thank God for electronic pacifiers.”
She offered a cigarette, which I declined with a shake of my head. Madeleine stuck one between her lips and lit it with the air of someone who isn’t allowed to smoke in the house, and has been indoors too long. When the initial buzz of nicotine had hit her system she turned, more relaxed, and eyed me curiously.
“You’re not at all like I was expecting,” she said.
Her words made my heart jump, but I waited silently for her to continue. What had Sean told her about me?
“Don’t get me wrong,” she hurried on when I didn’t speak. “Sean hasn’t told me much, but you know how it is, you build up a picture more from what he
Well, there was certainly a lot to be left unsaid about my relationship with Sean Meyer, but the idea that I’d been discussed in whispers in a semi-darkened bedroom somewhere made my stomach turn over.
I ignored it and buried my nose into the mug of tea, which was still stinking hot. I felt the liquid burning my throat all the way down and was perversely glad.
In between drags on her cigarette Madeleine took a gulp from her own mug and started again on a different tack. You couldn’t fault the girl for effort. “That was quite an exit you made the other night,” she said.
“Yeah, well, Sean and I didn’t exactly part on the best of terms,” I said wearily. “I wasn’t particularly anxious to bump into him again.”
“You should go easier on him.” There was just a hint of censure in her quiet tone.
I felt my shoulders stiffen involuntarily. “Excuse me?” I managed, my own voice low with anger. “And just what do you know about it, Madeleine?”
Even she had the grace to look a little squashed. “Hey, don’t get me wrong,” she said again, turning towards me and speaking quickly. “OK, so they threw you off your course. And I know it must have been tough on you, getting kicked out of the army just because you and he had a thing going, but at least they didn’t try and kill you.”
She drew a final breath through the filter tip, and dropped the cigarette butt on the ground, grinding it out. “After you left they posted him again, and kept posting him. One shitty hell-hole after another. They were hoping he’d do the decent thing and get himself blown up, or shot, but Sean doesn’t play by the rules like that. He kept coming back. Fortunately, when he realised what the bastards were trying to do, he got out before they succeeded. I know you think you’ve had it rough, Charlie, but he’s had it tough, too.”
I watched the genuine anger sketch across her perfectly put together features, and tried not to look for some devious ulterior motive. I had to ask, anyway. “Why are you telling me this?”
She took a moment to tamp down the emotion, draining her mug of tea before replying. “Just so you’ll understand,” she said at last. “Beyond anything else, Sean admired and respected you, you know? He never expected you to fail, never mind that you’d take him down with you. That was the biggest blow for him. Finding out this girl he practically idolised had clay feet.”
***
I’d been intending to wait around until Sean returned home, but after Madeleine’s soft-spoken attack I knew I had to get out of there, fast.
How dare Sean give anyone the impression that I’d had an easy time of it. Did he think I’d somehow brought it on myself? I remembered his words at the gym and suddenly it seemed more likely that he thought I’d made it all up. Or had he just conveniently forgotten to mention that part to Madeleine.
Besides, what Sean didn’t know was that they had indeed tried to kill me. OK, so it wasn’t quite the same as being sent on a suicide mission, but at the time it had seemed just as certain, and as terrifying.
Madeleine tried to get me to stay, seemed upset at my poor reaction. How did she expect me to respond to
