Maddie was a lot lower maintenance in the beauty stakes, but much harder to please emotionally. Gemma’s tastes may be material, but they were easy needs to meet. Maddie wanted something he couldn’t provide – and for a man who liked to fix problems, that became untenable. If only he could combine the best of both women into one, he would be a happy man.
Late last night Maddie had called him. He had been downstairs loading the dishwasher and catching up on Question Time when his mobile rang. She hadn’t said very much and what she did say he struggled to understand because she was laughing and sounded absolutely hammered. This was unusual in itself. She wasn’t much of a drinker. There had been someone else with her – a woman with a throaty cackle of a laugh, who was swearing like a football hooligan in the background.
He had to admit, he had felt a little jealous. He hadn’t heard Maddie laugh like that in years.
He’d tried to talk to her, but she’d gabbled at him and hung up. He’d been about to call her back but the baby monitor had burst into life as Jemima started to grizzle and he’d rushed upstairs to settle her before she woke Gemma.
But he thought about it now as he sat in his daughter’s impossibly pink bedroom, with the smell of nappy cream in his nostrils, tinged with sour milk from where she had thrown up on him a few minutes ago when she drank too quickly from her bottle. He finally had what Maddie had always yearned for, but it was with someone else. And all he wanted was for Maddie to find a happiness of her own, to move on from the sadness that had engulfed her all these years, but at the first sign of her doing just that, he found he was jealous.
It used to be him that made her laugh like that.
But he also knew Maddie inside and out. The woman he’d heard in the background with the filthy mouth and smoker’s cackle didn’t seem the kind of person Maddie would befriend for long. She was a bleeding heart for anyone with a sob story, but she was also very practical.
Jemima shoved her teddy in his face, interrupting his thoughts, and he laughed and tickled her. She really was his entire world. Gemma could be as difficult and high-maintenance as she wanted to be if it meant he had a few more of these little creatures running around the house.
At that moment, Greg realised he was happier than he had been in years, but a cloud hovered in the distance all the same. A Maddie-shaped cloud that rumbled with his self-reproach. If he could just find a way of helping Maddie to find some contentment while still keeping her in his life… That’s what the flat was about – close enough that she could still enjoy Jemima, but just far enough for Gemma to be comfortable and so that his happy family wasn’t thrown in Maddie’s face all the time.
He would call Maddie later and check in on her. She would likely have a huge hangover after the state she was in.
He chuckled to himself. She was terrible with hangovers, always had been. Gemma didn’t drink much at all – too many calories apparently.
Jemima was pressing a book into his hands now. He took it and she curled up in his lap again and rested her head against his chest. He kissed her head and began to read about lions and tigers and bears.
‘Greg!’ Gemma hollered up the stairs. ‘I’m going to yoga!’
‘Have fun – take your time!’ he called back.
‘Mummy’s gone, yay!’ he said in a whisper to Jemima and winked. She popped her thumb in her mouth and gazed at him adoringly.
*
It felt like hours had passed as Maddie tossed and turned, at times lying as still as possible so that her head wouldn’t thud and her stomach wouldn’t writhe. Apart from the occasional lurch to the bathroom, she remained buried, every now and then sticking a foot out of the covers for cool relief. By 3 p.m. she was feeling a little more human, so wrapped herself in her duvet and shuffled to the couch, grabbing a banana on the way. She’d read somewhere once that they were good for a hangover. Potassium or something. She turned on the TV and stared at some adverts for Bingo and online betting, before turning over to Netflix to search for some of the shows Jade had mentioned last night.
Some of her recommendations did not appeal to Maddie at all – what the hell was American Horror Story all about? – but she gave Stranger Things a go and before long had binged three episodes. Getting up to grab her phone and a large bag of salt and vinegar crisps, she sent Jade a message through Snapchat:
Sitting under a duvet binge-watching Stranger Things! It’s brilliant! Had a fun night last night. Feel horrible today though.
She didn’t expect Jade to read the message straight away, let alone reply, but a message came back immediately.
Good choice! Also feeling rough. Good laugh though! What episode are you on?
They spent the rest of the afternoon messaging back and forth, and it helped Maddie feel better. It struck her as bizarre that Jade was directly above her and yet they were having a conversation online as though they were hanging out in the same room. This was what friendships were like now, weren’t they? Maddie could see the appeal. It was easier to be funny, eloquent, charming and confidently opinionated when you weren’t looking someone in the eye. Maddie found herself saying bolder things in the Snapchat messages, throwing in a swear word or two, offering opinions that in the past she wouldn’t have dared say out loud in case she was judged, criticised or ridiculed. Greg was always telling her
