– 2 –

Madeleine’s hand cracked like a whip across Marian’s cheek. ‘You sly, conniving little bitch!’ she screamed. ‘I don’t know how you’ve got the nerve to stand there and say that to me.’ She made a cruel mimic of Marian’s voice: ‘“Paul O’Connell wants to court me!” Court. What kind of word’s that when it’s at home? And you know I’ve been trying to get off with him for weeks, so just what the hell are you playing at? What have you told him about me? What did you say to poison his mind?’

Marian was rubbing her cheek and blinking back the tears of pain. ‘I’m going to bed,’ she said, and turned to walk from the room. But Madeleine grabbed her and yanked her back again.

‘What did you say!’

‘I didn’t say anything about you,’ Marian answered calmly. ‘At least, nothing horrible.’

‘You liar! Well, I’ll tell you this for nothing, it won’t last. He’s only using you to make me jealous.’

‘Maybe,’ Marian said.

Madeleine gave a scream of rage. ‘You surely don’t think he fancies you, do you? A man like that with someone like you – it’s too ridiculous for words.’

‘I know.’

Madeleine sneered. ‘You know! You’re out of your league, Marian. And you only want him because I do, which is just typical of you. You want everything I’ve got, you always have.’

Marian took a deep breath. ‘Maddy, I’m going to bed. Maybe we can talk about this more sensibly in the morning when you’ve calmed down.’

‘Don’t act stuck up with me!’

‘I’m sorry. But you don’t mean the things you’re saying so there’s no point in dragging this out.’

To her surprise Madeleine let her go, but Marian knew that wasn’t the end of it.

The following morning, as she dressed for a day’s work at the Bristol and West Building Society, she knew Madeleine was awake, but judging it better to leave her, she went off to work, intending to phone her later. But when she did, Madeleine hung up, and when she returned home at six o’clock Madeleine had already gone to work and there was no note waiting for her. Her heart sank. Obviously Madeleine was still angry and she shuddered at the thought of another scene like the night before’s.

She wandered into the kitchen and lit the gas under the kettle before setting about the pile of washing-up Madeleine had left. It would be foolish to let him come between them, she told herself, after all he was little more than a stranger. And Madeleine was probably right, it wouldn’t last, so what was the point in creating all these problems? But in her heart she knew she wanted to see him again, and her eyes filled with tears as indecision racked her. Paul had denied that she was weak, but he’d change his mind if he could see her now. She didn’t have the courage to tell Madeleine she would carry on seeing Paul, and neither did she have the courage to ring Paul and tell him she wouldn’t see him again. If only Maddy could understand how wonderful it would be for her to have someone she could really talk to. She knew already that she could discuss anything in the world with Paul, including her own feelings and insecurities. But Madeleine wouldn’t understand. She would ask what was the matter with discussing things with her, after all she was family, wasn’t she? To explain to Madeleine would mean hurting her, and Marian wasn’t prepared to do that, no matter how much she wanted to see Paul.

When Madeleine came in just after midnight, Marian was in bed. Neither of them spoke as Madeleine flicked on the bedroom light and hummed tunelessly while she undressed, as if there were no one else in the room.

‘Good night?’ Marian asked.

Ignoring her, Madeleine continued with her nightly beauty routine. A few minutes later she picked up a magazine and got into bed.

‘It’s rather lonely in Coventry,’ Marian quipped. ‘Can we talk?’

Madeleine sighed and flicked over a page.

‘If I told you I’d decided not to see him again, would you stop behaving so childishly?’

‘What you have or haven’t decided is beside the point now,’ Madeleine answered loftily. ‘You’ve obviously turned him against me, so it’s too late to start crawling round me now.’

‘I’m not crawling round you,’ Marian snapped. ‘I’m trying to discuss this in an adult manner. But it’s difficult when you insist on acting like a selfish, spoiled little brat.’

‘Just fuck off,’ Madeleine said.

‘Does that have to be your answer to everything?’

‘As far as you’re concerned, yes.’

‘All right. If you’re going to take that attitude then I might as well see him again. It doesn’t seem I’ve got much to lose.’

‘You do that. And don’t come crying to me when he dumps you.’

The next day was even more difficult; they were both at home, but Madeleine carried on as if Marian wasn’t there. A couple of her friends came round and they drank a bottle of wine without offering her any. If she attempted to join in the conversation there was a hostile silence, and then they continued as if she hadn’t spoken. Madeleine answered the phone to the Sue Sheppard Agency and told them she’d never heard of a Marian Deacon; and when Marian called the agency back, Madeleine turned the stereo up so loud she couldn’t hear a thing. So she put on her coat and went out to a call-box. After she’d got her typing assignment for the following day she wandered around for an hour, and only went back to the flat when she was sure Madeleine had gone to work.

And here, she thought to herself as she started to clear the mess Madeleine had left, is proof of my cowardice.

‘I shouldn’t let her get away it,’ she told Paul when he came round later, ‘but I simply don’t know what to do about it.’

‘Yes, you do,’ he said. ‘In fact, you’ve already done it.’

Marian frowned. ‘Have I?’

He smiled. ‘You called me. Which, I take it, was what you wanted to do.’

Marian gave him a shy look and offered him another cup of tea. He wrinkled his nose, and going out to the hall, produced a bottle of red wine from his raincoat pocket.

‘I shouldn’t have told you all that,’ she said, when they were in the kitchen hunting for the corkscrew. ‘She accused me of turning you off her, and she’s not exactly wrong now, is she?’

‘Marian,’ he said, ‘I was never “on” Madeleine in the first place, as you know full well. So stop this self-chastisement and give me that corkscrew.’

Marian watched his hands as he poured the wine, then had to swallow hard as he handed her a glass. ‘Madeleine will be furious if you’re still here when she comes in,’ she said.

‘I’ll be long gone, if that’s what you want. But if she asks, you’re not to deny having seen me. Unless you’re ashamed, of course.’

She smiled at that, and led the way back into the sitting-room. He sat on the sofa again, but when she headed towards the chair he caught her hand and pulled her down next to him. ‘And if she hits you again then I will have something to say on the matter, whether you like it or not. Now, shall we change the subject?’

Despite the peculiarly hot vortex that was whirling about in her chest, Marian couldn’t resist a tease. ‘Are you by any chance trying to tell me you’ve found my conversation boring so far?’

‘Trying to tell you? You mean I’ve failed?’

Marian laughed. ‘In that case, maybe you’d like to bore me by telling me what your book’s about.’

‘Ah! Now we’re talking deeply dull. Male adolescence.’

Marian yawned. ‘Mm, deeply dull. In fact . . .’ She giggled as he put a hand over her mouth and gave her a warning look. Then tucking her feet under her, she sat back to listen.

Several times her mind wandered, but it had nothing to do with being bored. It was because she simply couldn’t get to grips with the fact that he was really there, and she was responding to him in such a natural and relaxed way. She even started to challenge some of the things he said, and he listened, considered her suggestions and often admitted she might have a point. His feet were resting on the wooden box they used as a coffee table, and Marian was finding it difficult to keep her eyes from wandering the length of his muscular legs. She liked the way his hand swept through his hair from time to time, and the droll look that came into his eyes when he compared the boy in his book with himself as a teenager.

At nine o’clock they went out for a Chinese takeaway, and as they ate she told him about her mother, her father, her schooldays, and the little terraced house they’d lived in in Totnes.

‘And you?’ she said. ‘Where are your parents?’

‘They died when I was in my teens. My aunt took over from there, but I’m afraid she’s dead now too.’

‘Oh.’ Marian’s face was filled with concern. ‘Don’t you have any family at all?’

He shook his head. ‘No family, no roots. And indeed, no job to speak of. Unless you call writing a job.’

‘But what do you do for money?’

As he answered his eyes were full of humour. ‘I sign on, like plenty of others.’ He laughed at her evident shock. ‘It was a deliberate choice,’ he continued. ‘I wanted to write, and it was no good trying to do it on a part-time basis.’

She looked at his clothes, recognising the expensive cut. ‘What did you do before?’ she asked.

‘I ran several businesses, made a great deal of money and spent it all.’

‘Really?’

‘That’s what money’s for, isn’t it?’

‘What did you spend it on?’

‘Women, mainly.’

Marian looked away, but he reached out and pulled her face back to look at him. ‘And now I’ve met you, I’m a pauper. But in certain situations, with certain people, money is irrelevant, wouldn’t you agree? And I think you know that what I can give you, if you will allow it, no amount of money in the world could buy.’

Marian’s small grey eyes looked at him. Her tongue was knotted somewhere in the back of her throat, but the wonderful latency of his words had started a rush through her veins that made her skin glow.

He smiled, and she looked at his white teeth, then at the dark shadow on his chin. His eyes were watching her from beneath the black arches of his brows. She wanted to say something but didn’t know what. Then he glanced at his watch and got to his feet. ‘Now, if you want me out of here before Madeleine returns,’ he said, ‘I guess I’d better be on my way.’

She followed him into the hall, still unable to speak. In a way she was glad he was going, she wanted to savour that moment alone and unobserved.

As he opened the door he turned to look at her. ‘Can I call you tomorrow?’

She nodded.

‘Around seven?’

Again she nodded, and with a smile that was so intimate it seemed to touch her, he left.

She rushed into the bedroom and went to look at herself in the mirror. She was amazed at what she saw, and pinched herself, sure it was all a dream. She tried to stop smiling but found it was impossible. Her eyes had never sparkled like that before, and her skin was flushed and tingling. She felt as if she was floating, as if she could fly even. How could just a few words have had such an effect?

Madeleine didn’t come home that night, and secretly Marian was glad. She’d never have been able to hide her feelings and she didn’t want Madeleine to say anything to spoil her happiness.

After that she saw him every day, usually in the evenings, but if she wasn’t working they wrapped up warmly and strolled across the Downs, or toured the zoo, or window-shopped for things they couldn’t afford. Her heart was like a volcano, erupting with such happiness and love that it gave her a radiance even Madeleine couldn’t fail to notice. But even Madeleine’s peevish resentment did nothing to destroy her euphoria.

‘It’s classic, isn’t it?’ he said one day, when they were standing outside a jeweller’s in Broadmead. ‘Now I’ve met someone I really want to spend money on, I don’t have it.’

She wanted to put her arms round him and tell him it didn’t matter, but they hadn’t got as far as an embrace yet, and she was too shy to make the first move. Sometimes he held her hand as they walked, or even put an arm round her shoulders, but he never seemed inclined to kiss her. She told herself it didn’t matter, but despite feeling gay and carefree when she was with him – and sometimes even reckless when she made him laugh – there was nothing she could do to stall the flood of panic that sometimes overcame her when she was alone. In the middle of the night she would stare into the darkness and convince herself that any day now he would meet someone else. Someone he would want to kiss, someone he would want to make love to – and she, Marian, would be forgotten. But in the morning, when he called to tell her he would meet her from work, or take her to Bath or Weston-Super-Mare for the day, all her fears disappeared.

Then one afternoon, while they were giggling at being ticked off for making a noise in the library, he told her he wouldn’t be able to see her for a week.

Her heart started to pound and she knew that the day she’d been dreading had arrived. ‘I see,’ she breathed. Then she forced a smile before looking down at the book in front of her.

‘Aren’t you going to ask me why?’ he said.

Keeping her eyes lowered, she shook her head.

‘I think I’ll tell you anyway. I’m taking my manuscript to a publisher. I’ve spoken to him on the phone and he’s interested enough to want to see me, and I can use the opportunity to sort out other business in London while I’m there.’

Since she assumed that the other business meant a woman, this did nothing to cheer her, and when she saw him off on the train the next day, though she smiled bravely, her volcano was spent and her heart was a dull, leaden weight.

When Madeleine came in early from work that night she found Marian crying on her bed.

‘Dumped you, has he?’ she said acidly.

Marian looked up. Her face was ravaged. ‘I think so,’ she whispered.

Madeleine tossed her bag on her own bed and went to sit on Marian’s. ‘Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you. If you must play out of your league, you must expect to lose.’

‘Don’t be nasty, Maddy,’ Marian said.

Madeleine looked at her cousin’s face, and seeing how heartbroken she was, she felt herself start to soften. ‘Well you’ve always got me,’ she said. ‘That is, if I’m good enough for you now.’

Marian sat up and put her arms round Madeleine. ‘You say the most ridiculous and the most monstrous things sometimes,’ she said, ‘but you’re more important to me than anyone else in the world.’

Madeleine swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘I’m sorry about the past few weeks,’ she said. ‘But it’s over now, so shall we put it behind us, forget it ever happened?’

Marian nodded, wishing she could.

‘If you like you can tell me about him,’ Madeleine said, as she was getting into bed. ‘I mean, what was he like? Did he make you come? I’ll bet he’s got a fantastic body, you lucky old cow. Fancy having someone like him for your first time!’ She sighed and gave a little shiver of lust. ‘You did do it, didn’t you?’ she said, when she realised Marian hadn’t answered.

Marian was sitting up in bed, drinking the cocoa Madeleine had made. ‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘If you want to know the truth, he never even kissed me.’

‘What! Then what the hell did you do?’

‘We talked.’

‘Talked! What about?’

‘Everything.’

‘Bloody hell,’ Madeleine muttered. Then she shrugged, feeling rather pleased that her cousin hadn’t succeeded where she’d failed after all. ‘Where does he live?’ she asked.

Marian looked down at her cup. ‘I don’t know,’ she answered. ‘He never told me.’

‘Didn’t you ask?’

‘Yes, but he always managed to avoid the question somehow.’

‘Oh,’ Madeleine said knowingly. ‘Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? He’s married.’

Marian felt crushed at having her own suspicions voiced. She put her cup down, and turning off her bedside lamp she said: ‘If you don’t mind, I don’t want to talk about him any more.’

At seven o’clock the next morning he rang. And again at seven in the evening. His calls continued in that pattern until the following Monday, when he asked Marian to meet him at the station on Tuesday morning. She was so relieved that she didn’t sleep a wink all night and simply poked her tongue out at Madeleine when she said: ‘Haven’t you got any pride? He snaps his fingers and you go running like a faithful old dog. He doesn’t want you,’ she yelled as Marian put her coat on, ‘let’s face it, he can’t even get it up where you’re concerned.’

The train arrived early and he was already waiting outside Temple Meads when she got there. She longed to run into his arms and have him spin her round the way they did in films, but she made do with his beaming smile and his arm draped loosely round her shoulders as they walked to the bus stop.

‘Madeleine thinks you’re married,’ she said as they rode through the city centre.

He gave a shout of laughter. ‘Well Madeleine would, wouldn’t she? And what do you think?’

‘I think, I hope, you’re not.’

‘Well it’s my aim to make all your hopes and dreams come true.’

‘Does that mean you’re not?’

He shook his head, his face still alight with amusement. ‘No, I’m not married,’ he said. Then looking into her eyes, he added, ‘At least, not yet.’

Her heart erupted in a storm of incredulous happiness and she closed her eyes.

‘You haven’t asked me how I got on in London,’ he said.

She turned to look at him. ‘Well?’

‘I don’t know yet. The editor I saw is going to give me a call sometime next week, when he’s read the script. Which reminds me, I gave him your telephone number, I hope you don’t mind.’

‘No, not in the least. But natural curiosity is going to make me ask why?’

‘Because, my darling, I am homeless. I called my landlady yesterday and she’s terminating my tenancy as of this Friday.’

‘Oh no!’ Marian gasped. ‘What will you do?’

He shrugged. ‘At the moment I don’t know. But I’m sure I’ll come up with something.’ As the bus was approaching their stop he stood up and rang the bell. Marian noticed that the two girls sitting behind her were looking at him in awed admiration, and she felt herself go almost dizzy with pride.

When they got to her flat, Madeleine was there with her friends Jackie and Sharon. They all looked at Paul as he followed Marian through the door; their lascivious appraisal of him, and their open coquetry, made her stomach churn. She went to make some coffee while Madeleine took Paul’s arm and sat him down. She couldn’t quite hear what they were asking him, but from their frequent shrieks of laughter she guessed that he was exercising his charm.

When she joined them she felt even more awkward because there was nowhere for her to sit, so excusing herself, she went into the bedroom. A few minutes later there was a knock on the door and he came in.

‘You’re not jealous, are you?’ he teased when he saw her glum face.

With a wry smile she said, ‘Yet again you’ve seen through me.’ She was sitting at the dressing-table and he went to stand behind her, looking at her reflection in the mirror. She turned away, uncomfortable at the striking contrast between his beauty and her ordinariness.

As she stood up he watched her walk past him, and when she reached the door he said, ‘Are you afraid of me?’

She turned, her face showing only mild surprise at the question. ‘Sometimes,’ she answered frankly.

He held out his hand, and when she took it he led her to the bed and sat her down. ‘Why?’ he asked, as he sat down next to her.

‘Truthfully?’

‘Of course.’

‘For the same reason I’m afraid of everyone else.’

‘And that is?’

‘I don’t think you’re going to like the answer much,’ she smiled, and seeing the sadness in her eyes, he squeezed her hand and ran the back of his fingers over her face. ‘It’s because people can be exceptionally cruel to people who look like me. It’s as if we don’t count. Because we aren’t beautiful, or attractive, we aren’t credited with feelings. You’d be amazed at some of the things I’ve had said to me – though most of the time I’m just ignored. No matter how often it happens I still can’t get used to it, and though I’m always half expecting it, it still comes as a shock. So I’m afraid of you – of people – because I’m ugly, and because I don’t like being hurt.’

She was looking down at their entwined hands and tensed as a tear splashed onto his wrist. As he lifted her face she tried to turn away, but he wouldn’t let her, and when she looked up she found he was gazing straight into her eyes. As he moved slowly towards her, her mouth trembled. His lips were soft and tender and slightly parted. She closed her eyes as her own lips parted, and she felt his arm move round her shoulders as he pulled her closer. He kissed her again, caressing her mouth with his and tracing her jaw with his thumb as his fingers splayed through her hair.

‘Marian,’ he whispered, still holding her close, ‘you really don’t know how beautiful you are, do you? It shines from your eyes when you speak. It’s in your honesty and humility. It lives inside you like a light that will only be extinguished on the day you die.’

They heard a giggle outside, and Marian sprang to her feet as the door opened.

‘Sorry if I’m interrupting something,’ Madeleine said, ‘but I need to get changed for work.’

Paul took Marian’s hand, and turning so the others couldn’t see, he winked. ‘Nearly caught in the act,’ he said. ‘I told you to wait.’ He turned back to the others. ‘She can’t keep her hands off me for more than two minutes at a time,’ he said. ‘But then I can’t keep mine off her either.’ And before Marian could do a thing to stop him, he tumbled her onto the bed and covered her with his body.

Within seconds they heard the door close, and lifting himself onto his elbows he looked down into Marian’s face. Her expression made him burst out laughing; she hit him, then pushed him off the bed.

‘Can’t keep my hands off you indeed!’ she cried, her voice bubbling with mirth. ‘What’s everyone going to say?’

‘Do you care?’ he asked, looking up at her from the floor.

‘Not a jot!’

‘Keep up that sort of defiance and I’ll kiss you again,’ he warned, then laughed as she blushed. ‘Your cousin sure knows how to pick her moments,’ he said as he got up. ‘And there was me trying my damnedest to be romantic.’ He pulled her to her feet. ‘But I meant what I said. And you must stop under-rating yourself, and very definitely stop feeling sorry for yourself.’

‘Sorry for myself!’ she cried indignantly.

‘Yes, and you know it. In fact I think you only did it to make me kiss you.’

Her mouth was opening and closing as sparks of affront and delight flashed from her eyes.

‘Yes, go on,’ he said, ‘what are you trying to say?’ and she collapsed against him, laughing.

‘I was thinking,’ she said later, while she dished a spoonful of beans onto a piece of toast, ‘how would you feel about moving in here with Madeleine and me? I mean, until you find somewhere else,’ she added hastily, in case he should think her forward. ‘You’d have to sleep on the sofa, but it’s better than the streets.’

She turned to look at him. He was spooning tea into the pot and her heart gave a flutter at the pleasure of their domesticity.

‘And what would Madeleine have to say to this very improper suggestion?’ he said. And when he looked up, their eyes locked for a moment before they burst out laughing.

‘What, shack up with you two!’ Madeleine stormed when Marian asked her. ‘Are you serious? Because if you are, you’d better get your brain fixed.’

‘It wouldn’t be for long,’ Marian pleaded. ‘And it’ll help with the rent. We’ve fallen behind again, and I’ve had a nasty letter from Barclaycard. That’s not to mention the other bills we can’t pay. We could do with the money, Maddy, and it would mean a lot to me if you said yes.’

‘I’ll bet it would. Well, I’m not going to, so don’t bother asking again.’

Marian didn’t then, but she wasn’t going to give in that easily. In fact, she was determined to win. And when Madeleine came home at half-past one in the morning, she was waiting up. ‘I want to talk to you again about Paul moving in,’ she said, as Madeleine flopped into a chair.

‘Oh good,’ Madeleine answered. She was smiling cheerfully and Marian’s hopes lifted. ‘I’ve been thinking about it too,’ Madeleine went on, ‘and you’re right. We could do with the money, so tell him it’s all right by me.’

‘Are you sure?’ Marian said, hardly able to believe her ears.

‘Of course I am,’ Madeleine answered. ‘In fact I’ve come to the conclusion I’ve been behaving very childishly over all this, and I want you to know that really, deep down, I’m happy for you. Anyone can see he’s head over heels in love with you, so who am I to stand in your way?’

Marian was amazed. ‘You mean, you really don’t mind about us any more?’

Madeleine shook her head, and Marian fell back into the sofa. ‘Thank God,’ she breathed. ‘Oh, thank God. I’ve been longing to talk to you about him, tell you all the things he says. I’ve missed you, Maddy, even though you’ve been here. Does this mean we can be friends again?’

‘I certainly hope so, because I’ve missed you too.’

‘Shall we have some cocoa to celebrate?’ Marian grinned.

‘No, we’ll have some wine. And then we’ll sit up half the night while you talk about him to your heart’s content.’

While she waited for Marian to fetch some glasses from the kitchen, Madeleine was mulling over what her friend Jackie had said earlier. ‘You’re mad for saying no,’ she’d told Madeleine. ‘If he’s there, under the same roof, then you’ll have no problem pulling him. And what’s more, if you get Marian to tell you everything he likes and doesn’t like, and all that sort of thing, then you can make use of it yourself, and he’ll be eating out of your hand inside a month. In fact, if he isn’t laying her, two weeks in your company and he’ll be begging you for it.’

‘Do you think so?’ Madeleine said.

‘I know so. But just in case, be nice to Marian. That’ll show him what a wonderful person you can be, and hey presto, he’ll be in your knickers before you can say fuck me.’

Jackie was right, of course; in fact thinking about it now, Madeleine couldn’t believe that she hadn’t seen it for herself.