THE RESTAURANT, THE breakfast bar, and the covered veranda, where space heaters made it warm enough to sit and drink piping hot coffee, were still deserted. No one was up and about yet, and it looked as if most of the wedding guests had decided that brunch was a better option than breakfast.
Maggie had knocked on the door of Andrea’s apartment this morning, asking if she wanted to come for coffee with her. Joe had gone out for a walk with his grandfather, who was anxious to impart the secret of a long and happy marriage.
‘I suppose if anyone’s going to know it would be Joe’s grandpa. His grandparents have been married for nearly sixty years, without so much as a cross word.’
‘Really? Isn’t that a little bit boring?’ Andrea wasn’t in the mood to hear about domestic harmony this morning. Last night had been full of every kind of regret imaginable.
Maggie chuckled dryly. ‘I don’t think it’s actually true. Joe’s mum told me they’ve definitely been known to argue. They just keep it between themselves and work things out together.’
‘Not such a bad approach.’ Andrea should take a leaf from their book. She’d already decided to keep what had happened between her and Cal to herself. It would be a shame to cast any shadow over Maggie’s obvious happiness, however much Andrea needed her friend right now.
‘Yes, it sounds good to me too. Although Grandpa Dave’s a bit late with the advice on how Joe can make me happy, because he’s already done that. I think he just wants to go for a walk with Joe; they’ve always been close.’
‘So...where shall we go?’
Maggie surveyed the display of food on the counter of the breakfast bar. ‘Are you hungry? Joe and I already ate so I just want coffee.’
‘That’s all I want.’ Andrea didn’t even want to think about food at the moment.
‘How about the veranda, then? Unless it’s too cold for you?’
‘No, it’s fine.’ Andrea had woken in the night, shivering, unable to get warm, even though she’d gone and sat in front of the fire in the sitting room. The crisp cold of the morning was nothing compared to the icy fingers of regret over things she ought to be able to change, but couldn’t. And they’d be less likely to run into Cal on the veranda.
They sat down, arranging rugs over their legs. The waiter brought mugs of coffee and Maggie let out a contented sigh. ‘It’s so beautiful here. And you... You’ve done so much, Andrea. Thank you.’
‘I’ve enjoyed it too. It’s been a wonderful time.’ That at least was true. It was over now, but it had been wonderful.
‘Andrea?’ Maggie set her mug down, grabbing Andrea’s hand. It was only then that Andrea realised her eyes were full of tears. ‘What’s the matter, honey?’
‘Nothing... I mean...’ Andrea wiped the tears away with the sleeve of her sweater. ‘It’s just been so great to have you here. I’ll miss you.’
‘Are you sure that’s all it is?’ Maggie squeezed her hand. ‘Did anything happen?’
Did anything happen with Cal? That was what Maggie meant; she wasn’t blind. It was impossible to miss the chemistry between her and Cal.
‘Nothing happened. And everything’s fine, truly. I’m just a little tired.’
‘Because you and Cal stayed up so late, making our cake.’ Maggie smiled at her, leaning over for a hug. ‘You’re the best friend that anyone could have, Andrea.’
Maggie and Joe were leaving this afternoon for a week in the sunshine. Just six hours, and then Andrea could drop all the pretence and go and lock herself away in her apartment, until Cal left the hotel.
But there were still the goodbyes to get through. It was impossible that she shouldn’t be there to wave her friends off, and if she knew Cal at all then he’d be thinking the same. At least she could position herself on the opposite side of the gaggle of friends and family, while Maggie and Joe worked their way round, kissing cheeks and shaking hands.
‘We have to have a photo...’ Maggie’s mother had brought her camera with her. ‘Andrea, go and stand next to Joe. And where’s Cal?’
She could see the tension in Cal’s face when he stepped forward. He took his place by Maggie’s side, smiling for the camera. Andrea wondered if her own smile looked as pasted on as his did, but no one seemed to notice. Maggie’s mother fiddled with her camera, taking photograph after photograph.
‘That’ll be enough, Mum, surely.’ Maggie stepped forward, grinning, and took the camera from her mother. ‘What about one with just Andrea and Cal?’
The relief at the ordeal almost being over was tempered by the knowledge that the worst was still to come. Joe ducked out from between them, and she felt Cal put his arm around her.
He could hardly touch her. Cal was doing all the right things, standing next to her and smiling for the camera, but his hand wasn’t so much on her shoulder as hovering a millimetre above it. Andrea smiled, unable to move under the weight of numb misery.
As soon as Maggie had taken the photograph, he was gone. Maybe he had nothing to say to her, or maybe he too was taking Grandpa Dave’s approach and keeping their argument between themselves alone. Andrea silently sent up a sigh of relief as Maggie and Joe climbed onto the train, waving.
She could see Cal waving too, but as soon as the train drew away, he turned to Grandpa Dave. As the two walked away together, Grandpa Dave seemed to be giving Cal the benefit of his experience on something or other and Cal was nodding gravely.
That was it, then. After all the excitement and the hubbub, the only thing that remained was for everyone to go home. Then, finally, Andrea could grieve, for the loss of the future that had seemed to open up before her and which she’d been too afraid to grab hold of.
Cal had done everything that was expected of him. He’d spent the night trying to get a few hours’ sleep, but it had slipped through his fingers, as if it were playing a game of tag with him. Then he’d downed three cups of coffee, which had only served to leave him feeling like an overstretched piece of piano wire, before turning his mind to tackling the day.
He doggedly made the rounds of all the hotel staff who’d helped with the wedding, thanking each one personally. Somehow he managed to avoid Andrea, and he couldn’t help wondering if it was because she was also avoiding him.
When the time came to see Maggie and Joe off, she couldn’t even meet his gaze. Last night hadn’t been an aberration or a misunderstanding between friends. It had shown them both that they could never be together.
A call to the airline secured a ticket home for this evening in exchange for the one he’d booked in two days’ time. Cal packed his bags, walking down to the railway terminus. As the train drew into the station, the impulse to run back and try and make things right with Andrea seized him.
But things were right. He should never have allowed their relationship to go as far as it had, and he had no excuse other than having been dazzled by her. Andrea had found peace here, and if he loved her at all, then he should leave.
He picked up his bags and stepped into the carriage of the funicular train. As it drew away from the lights of the hotel, he didn’t allow himself to look back.
Four days. It had been four days since Cal had left without a word. Andrea had been angry with him, and then angry at herself. Now she just felt numb.
But she had to keep going. She kept on smiling for the family and friends who were still at the hotel for a few days’ holiday after the wedding. And kept on crying when she was alone.
She was woken by the doorbell. Sleeping late wasn’t her usual habit—the mornings were far too crisp and beautiful for that—but she was exhausted from nights of staring at the ceiling, wondering how she’d managed to be so stupid as to lose Cal. He’d told her how he felt. They’d agreed that they wouldn’t act on their feelings. She could have waved him off, knowing he’d be a friend she could contact any time she liked, but she’d destroyed all of that.
Aunt Mae was standing at the door of her apartment. She wore one of the hotel’s Ski Mavericks bright pink sweatshirts over immaculate cream trousers and a polo neck.
‘Aunt Mae. Come in.’ Andrea wondered for a moment if she was still dreaming, and decided she wasn’t. She’d arranged for Francine to take Aunt Mae for a ride on the slopes on one of the skidoos; Aunt Mae had obviously enjoyed herself and wanted a souvenir of the trip.
‘You look as if you need something to start your day.’ Aunt Mae walked determinedly into the small sitting room and sat down.
‘Uh. Yes. I’m just going to make coffee. Would you like some?’
A visit from Aunt Mae always required that cups and saucers be used. Andrea combed her hair in the kitchen while she was waiting for the coffee to brew, and when she returned to the sitting room she found Aunt Mae emptying the contents of her handbag onto the coffee table, presumably looking for a sandwich.
‘Would you like some toast?’ Andrea set the cups down.
‘No, I had breakfast some time ago. Don’t let me stop you though, dear.’
‘That’s okay. I’m not hungry.’ The bread in the kitchen was stale anyway.
Aunt Mae found what she was looking for and started to tip everything else back into her handbag. Andrea focussed on a small bottle of whisky, which must have come from the minibar in Aunt Mae’s room.
‘It’s a bit early, isn’t it?’
‘Needs must, dear.’ Aunt Mae opened the bottle, tipping a measure into both cups.
Andrea shrugged. ‘Okay.’ She obediently took a sip of her coffee, blinking from the taste of caffeine with alcohol. Maybe one sip was enough for courtesy’s sake.
‘Cal’s very handsome, isn’t he? He’s got that sparkle I like in a man.’
So this was what Mae was here for. Not much got past her, and she must have seen what Andrea had been trying so hard to conceal. She’d obviously decided that Andrea needed a pick-me-up and that fortifying her coffee at ten-thirty in the morning was going to do the trick.
‘Yes, he has. It’s okay, Aunt Mae. I’m not going to fall to pieces.’
Aunt Mae reached into the neck of her sweatshirt, pulling out the old-fashioned locket that she always wore, and lifting the chain over her white, perfectly coiffed curls. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever shown you this, have I?’
‘No, you haven’t.’ The locket was heavy in Andrea’s hand. ‘May I look inside?’
Aunt Mae nodded, and Andrea opened the locket. On one side was the picture of a young man in an army cap. On the other, an older man with a jovial smile.
‘My two husbands.’
What? ‘I didn’t know you were married, Aunt Mae.’
‘I haven’t always been eighty, dear. I married Ted, the one on the right, when I was eighteen, just before he went away to do his National Service. He was killed, making me a widow at nineteen.’
Andrea caught her breath. Suddenly her own troubles seemed very small. ‘I’m so sorry, Aunt Mae.’
‘It was a long time ago, dear, and, as you know, time heals. I married my second husband, Harry, ten years later. We had twenty good years together, before he died of a heart attack.’
Andrea stared at Aunt Mae dumbly. Aunt Mae never failed to surprise, but she was pulling out all the stops this morning.
‘It’s... Aunt Mae, I never knew...’ Andrea moved over to the sofa, giving Aunt Mae a hug.
‘It’s all right, dear. I loved them both and I’m thankful for every moment I had with each of them.’ Aunt Mae extricated herself from Andrea’s embrace. ‘Harry was a tiger between the sheets, you know.’
‘Aunt Mae!’
‘You think you invented sex? You’re not twelve years old any more, dear, and I assume you have a good idea about what I mean. Cal has that same something about him as my Harry did.’
Okay. Andrea definitely needed a drink now. She took a gulp of her coffee, blinking as it hit the back of her throat.
‘We...um. We didn’t ever get that far.’
Aunt Mae shot her a derisive look. ‘In those days we didn’t live together before we got married. But I knew exactly what to expect with my Harry, and he didn’t disappoint.’
Andrea picked up the locket from the coffee table, gently fixing the chain back around Aunt Mae’s neck. The worn engraving glinted in the sunlight, a testament to memories that had become mellow with age.
‘Whisky at ten-thirty in the morning, and telling me you had two husbands. This isn’t just a social call, is it, Aunt Mae? What is it you came to say?’
‘I’ve had a good life, and I don’t regret anything that I did. A few things that I didn’t do, maybe...’ Aunt Mae took a sip of her coffee, pausing as if to make a list in her head of the things she hadn’t done. Clearly that wasn’t relevant to her point.
‘Live your life, Andrea. Take it from me: if you don’t try for what you want you’ll always regret it.’
‘But... It’s complicated. He doesn’t want me...’
Aunt Mae snorted in disbelief. ‘It’s always complicated. In my experience, men are full of complications of one kind or the other. But they don’t dance that way with women they don’t want.’
Andrea felt a tear form at the corner of her eye. Aunt Mae had voiced the feeling that had been growing over the last few days, and suddenly it didn’t seem so outrageous after all.
‘Thank you...’ She hugged Aunt Mae again, feeling the tears begin to flow down her cheeks. ‘Thank you for...everything.’
‘My pleasure, dear. There isn’t much point in being this old if you can’t dispense a little wisdom from time to time. Now, drink your coffee and go and get dressed. There’s a little errand I want you to run for me.’
‘What is it?’ Andrea grinned, wiping her eyes. ‘If you don’t ask, then you don’t get.’
‘I’m glad you’ve been listening. Those torch processions they do at dusk...’ Aunt Mae patted the design on her Ski Mavericks sweatshirt.
Andrea nodded. ‘You want to be a part of one?’
‘They do look rather exciting.’
‘Consider it done. I’ll come with you and take some pictures, shall I?’ Andrea was sure that Francine and Bruno would be eager to make the occasion special, and that her parents would be there too, ready to celebrate Aunt Mae’s intrepid zest for life when she reached the bottom of the slope.
Aunt Mae clapped her hands together. ‘That would be lovely, thank you. Something to show everyone at the library, when I get home...’
‘So how’s married life, then?’ Cal put two pints of best bitter down onto the table in the cosy ‘snug’ bar of Joe’s local pub.
‘Good. I’d recommend it.’ Joe picked up his glass. ‘Cheers.’
It was good to see Joe so happy. It took some of the edge off Cal’s own unhappiness, making him feel that the world hadn’t completely faded into grey.
‘How are things with you? You said you’d taken the job you were offered?’
Cal nodded. ‘The board of directors offered me a great deal. We agreed that I’ll be a relatively free agent for the next couple of months, working with the other directors to create new strategies for innovation. Then I’ll take up my new role as London Director and start implementing some of those strategies.’
‘Sounds great. You got over whatever it was that was giving you the heebie-jeebies about it?’
A vision of Andrea’s smile formed in Cal’s imagination. She’d been following him for a while now—all the way back from Italy, in fact. Cal sent a silent thank-you to her and hoped that whatever she was doing this evening brought her happiness. It was the only thing that justified the pain that, for the last two weeks, had sometimes seemed to be tearing his heart from his chest.
‘Yeah. I took some good advice.’
Joe raised his eyebrows. ‘That’s new. Since when did you listen to anything anyone else had to say about your career?’
Since Andrea. It was as if everything had stopped when he’d met her, and then started anew.
‘People change.’
‘Yeah. I wouldn’t disagree with you there.’ Joe reached forward, picking up his beer. ‘I just didn’t think I’d ever hear you say it.’
Cal shrugged. ‘Like I say, people change.’
Joe narrowed his eyes. ‘Am I missing something? You could sound a lot more enthusiastic about this.’
His friend hadn’t missed anything. It was hard to keep up a positive façade when he felt his heart was breaking—a slow-motion disintegration that robbed Cal daily of even the smallest pleasures.
‘You remember when you told me that you’d met the woman you wanted to marry?’ Cal took a sip of his beer, the taste sour in his mouth.
‘Of course I do...’ Understanding dawned in Joe’s face. ‘Ah. Andrea.’
‘Was it that obvious?’
‘Put it like this: I haven’t witnessed that much chemistry since I was at school, doing my science A levels. You’ve told her?’
Cal shook his head. ‘You know as well as I do that Andrea’s vulnerable. She has her own comfort zone and she’s happy there. She doesn’t need me crashing into her life.’
Joe thought for a moment. ‘You’re sure about that? A good friend once told me that if I loved Maggie, then I shouldn’t let her go so easily.’
‘That’s different. You’re not an uncompromising control freak.’
‘She said that about you?’ Joe raised his eyebrows.
‘No, actually. She doesn’t know me quite as well as you do. You’ve said it a few times.’
‘Only in jest...’ Joe shrugged, but he knew it was true, just as well as Cal did.
Somehow, though, Andrea was still here: sitting at his elbow, telling him that he could change; believing in him the way he believed in her. The distant possibility that maybe one day they could both change, and that they’d be together, was all that kept him going at the moment.
‘Look, Cal. I know this is hard, but... If you really love her, isn’t it better to face the obstacles together?’
Cal shook his head. ‘You and Maggie are different. You weren’t the obstacle, were you?’
Joe grumbled into his beer, but he couldn’t disagree. Cal didn’t want to talk about it any more, and he walked over to the deep window ledge, sorting out the chess men from the pile of different board games, and setting them out on the chequered table between him and Joe.
The black-hearted king, who loved a glimmering white queen. Cal’s very nature made it impossible. But some impossible things were just harder and took longer. He had nothing left but a distant, unreachable hope and, despite everything his head was telling him, his instinct was to cling to it.
Joe rubbed his hands together, flexing his fingers in preparation for the battle ahead.