Page 54 of Things We Never Said
‘Maggie, was it? Fair enough,’ Pete says.
‘And her partner,’ Sean adds, furrowing his brow and smiling in amusement. ‘Dave, his name is.’
‘Ah,’ Pete says, sounding disappointed. ‘Oh well.’
After another awkward silence the talk turns to Jim’s wife, who is pregnant again, and then to Pete’s upcoming retirement party, and then finally to their standard staple: football. And it’s a relief for Sean to have an hour of mundane, everyday conversation.
It’s strangely calming to discuss things that really don’t matter, he realises, but it also occupies his mind so that it doesn’t go hunting under rocks. Because Sean’s pretty sure there’s something lurking in the shadows here that he doesn’t want to see.
By ten thirty, when the quiz ends, they’re all pleasantly drunk. But despite their alcohol intake they have done well, in no small part due to Sean’s grasp of eighties pop music. When the results are tallied up, it is their group that has won. First prize. An eighty-pound bar tab for future use.
‘Yay!’ Pete says, raising one hand in a victory gesture and almost knocking over his pint in the process. ‘Result! Third time in a row! We rule!’
Despite his attempts at not thinking about it, the truth that has been tugging at Sean’s sleeve, trying to get his attention, finally takes centre stage. Because, evidently, the group never stopped coming to quiz night. They simply stopped inviting Sean.
Sean makes his excuses and leaves the table, but a shadow must have crossed his features because when he stands and heads for the bathroom, Jim, who has always been one of the more sensitive souls in the group, follows him.
Side by side at the urinals, Jim says, ‘I’m glad you’re back, mate. We missed you.’
‘I never went away, though, did I?’ Sean says. The alcohol has loosened his tongue.
Jim clears his throat. ‘No,’ he says. ‘Sorry about that. It’s just, you know ...’
‘No,’ Sean says, buttoning his jeans. ‘I’m not sure I do.’
‘It’s just, you know, when Cathy got ill,’ Jim says awkwardly. ‘It was a real downer and no one knew what to say, really.’
‘Right,’ Sean says.
‘And then Pete’s missus went and got cured and everything. And she started coming out with us, for a while. And it seemed ... I dunno. It just seemed a bit awkward, really. To be rubbing her good health in your face, like.’
‘Right,’ Sean says.
‘It was nothing personal,’ Jim says. ‘It was nothing against you. It was just, we ... I dunno really.’
Sean washes his hands and dries them on the roller towel.
‘Still, you’re back, now,’ Jim says, slapping him on the shoulder.
‘Yeah,’ Sean says, sounding unconvinced. ‘Yeah, I’m back now.’
Snapshot #17
35mm format, colour. On a pub lawn, two women in summer dresses lie either side of a handsome man with slicked-back hair. He’s wearing a waistcoat and rolled-up shirtsleeves. A small girl stands behind them holding a glass of orange juice. Of the four people in the photo, only the man is smiling.
Ouch, Sean thinks, the second he sees the photo. Because something had gone wrong that day between Catherine and Maggie. Despite the summer sun and the alcohol, the ambiance had been bitchy and glacial – so difficult, in fact, that Sean had been forced to abandon the whole mission and drag Catherine and April away.
It was a shame because Sean, for his part, had been feeling on top of the world. The Marble Drama, as it had come to be known, was over, and he was working on a new sheltered housing project out in Chesterton. The building did not require cladding.
Maggie had met Stéphane, the man in the photo, and was as happy as he had ever seen her. Actually, thinking back on it now, Maggie had been unreasonably, hysterically, irritatingly happy, and he had thought that it was this that had put Catherine’s back up that day. Of course, knowing what he knows now, she must still have been fuming, quite simply, over their supposed affair.
But Catherine should really have felt reassured. Because Maggie could only talk about one thing. Stéphane. Bloody Stéphane. She had talked about him for weeks at work and she had talked about him that day, as well. Stéphane who had a gym in his London flat; Stéphane who knew all the best restaurants. ‘And guess who bought me these gorgeously tasteful earrings? Why, Stéphane, of course!’
If the truth be told, even though he hadn’t even considered having an affair with Maggie, he had, once Stéphane came along, felt vaguely jilted. There was something about the guy that just really annoyed him.
Cassette #17
Hello honey.
