Page 22 of Such a Good Couple
She could not intuit whether this was rooted in the miserable but deeply held conviction that her body was ugly. Or did it all stem from something more existential? Was her body going into a sort of retirement, a middle-aged retreat, having served itspurpose? She’d been looked at and fucked and had reproduced, and now what? She could be invisible? There would be a sort of relief in it after a lifetime of being a woman and being judged on her appearance.
Fuck sleep.She sighed and untangled herself from the knotted sheets. After the night before, her stomach felt cleaved and empty –but even despite not feeling amazing, the anger Brody’s text had kicked off made her want to eat. If she made it down to breakfast early, before anyone else got there, she could maybe have something a little extra.
‘Good morning, ma’am.’
The toothy waitress was new, Maggie noted.
‘Morning.’ Maggie smiled, squinting up at her.
‘You’re up early!’
‘I am.’ Maggie smiled again. ‘Can you bring me some coffee and melon?’
‘Sure.’ The girl nodded, turning to leave. Maggie flipped over her phone to check the time: 6.50 a.m. Still good and early, no one would be up anytime soon.
‘And, sorry …?’ Maggie blurted, then lowered her voice. ‘A plate of pancakes for my girls, they’ll be here any minute and they getsoimpatient.’
‘Of course, Mrs Strong.’
While she waited, Maggie googled her husband. This activity was pure self-harm, as both Eva and Britney frequently lectured. But today was different. She needed to know what the internet was saying, if she was going to be frank with him about how these stories and his disconnect from their day-to-day life impacted her. Though was she actually going to confront him?
She paused in her googling to consider this, her thoughts drifting this way and that. If they started fighting on the holidayit would wreck the buzz and waste what little time they had with their friends. If she didn’t say anything, nothing would change. Then again, what did she want to change? Did she evenwantFionn home more at this point? And, Jesus Christ, what didthatmean if she didn’t? Mercifully, the coffee, melon and a stack of fluffy American-style pancakes arrived before she could become even more mired in the knotty questions of her marriage.
She checked the group chat to make sure Annie and Clara hadn’t messaged in yet. No sign of life there. They had to be still asleep, surely; yesterday had been a heavy one, soaked in booze and sun. Maggie glanced up at the windows of the upper stories of the house above her. They were mirrors in the sun, giving no hint to whether there were stirrings in the rooms within.
Someonecouldbe standing on the other side of the shining glass admiring the shimmering view.
The volume on the more insistent thought in her head was starting to amp up.Fuck it, just get it done. Eat them fast before someone comes along.She wanted the numbing calm that came with consuming with abandon.
She shifted her chair so that her back was to the house, and hunched slightly over to try and shield the pancakes from the view of any staff possibly drifting around inside.
At least it’ll keep me from googling Fionn.
She propped her head up on her left hand, allowing a sheet of hair to fall and provide a fraction more cover. With her right hand, she rolled the top pancake into a scroll-like shape and ate it in two bites. In another minute, she’d dispatched two more in the exact same efficient manner. Her hands were tacky with syrup. She didn’t even like syrup. Or this kind of thick pancake. She liked lemon and sugar on her pancakes – the thin kind that they’d had at home when she was a kid. Still, the satisfying weight of carbs and sugar hitting her stomach was good. Sherolled up the remaining two pancakes and sucked them down as well. She quickly ran a finger around the edge of the plate where the last of the syrup glistened and discreetly brought her fingertips to her mouth. This speedy hit of food pacified her and she could practicallyfeelher body slacken. Thoughts of Fionn felt more distant, if only momentarily. She snuck a glance back at the house; it looked the exact same as it had just minutes before. She considered the empty pancake plate. She could slip it underneath the plate of melon in front of her and just say nothing or she could—
‘Maggie! Morning!’
Maggie started at her name coming from below on the beach. It was Ollie, just a few feet from the bottom of the steps up to the deck.
Shite. She’d been so preoccupied with being seen from the house that she hadn’t even checked the beach side.
‘Hey,’ she called back, and then used the time it took him to jog up the stairs to wipe her face. Her right hand was a sticky mess but there was no water on the table to clean it off. She could see the top of Ollie’s wavy hair and made the split-second decision to plunge her hand into her coffee – her still quite fucking hot coffee! She grabbed a napkin to dry her hand as Ollie bounded up to the other side of the table.
‘You’re up early.’ He squinted down at her.
‘You too!’ Maggie speared a chunk of watermelon. ‘Where’ve you been?’
‘Just a little jog.’ He squinted back towards the beach. ‘It is unbelievably gorgeous out there. Beats the treadmill, those things are mind-numbingly boring.’
‘Yeah.’ Maggie nodded, a little amused. ‘I can’t say I’d ever pictured you on a treadmill. Or up before seven to jog! Except maybe to get to the next session on a roll-over.’
‘Ha.’ Ollie grinned. ‘Look, we all have to have our midlifecrisis. It could be so much worse. Half the lads at home are becoming extremely tedious about coffee – it’s the new artisanal IPAs. At least I’m not boring anyone about my running. Or trying not to.’ He started a few sweaty lunges by the railing. ‘Are you planning a little midlife crisis yourself at all? I feel like it’d suit you.’
‘Just the usualI look older than Nosferatu, my ass is heading due south and my husband scores twenty-somethings for a living.’
‘Ah yes, the “usual”.’ Ollie chewed his lower lip, looking concerned. ‘It’s a fucking tough gig, Mags. I can’t imagine. I know it’s just acting and all but if Clara kissed someone else …’ He shook his head. ‘It’d wreck me.’
‘Yeah …’ Maggie sighed. ‘I guess I’m just used to it with Fionn. He’s always been an actor. So I’ve had to get used to the intimacy required. But the speculation online. That’s been hitting another level of hard.’
