Impossible to Forget(5)

A fond smile rippled around the table.

‘And her cooking!’ said Tiger. ‘Some of the things we ended up eating just because that was what she had in. Do you remember when she put bananas in the pasta sauce because we didn’t have any veg?’

He ran a hand through his sun-bleached hair. It was starting to turn grey, Maggie noticed, although the strands were well disguised by the blond. It was thinning on top, too. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to look less bronzed beach bum and more ageing hippy. He still had that magical something, though, she thought. She batted the inconvenient thought away.

They sat for a moment, each lost in their own memories. Hope, perching on the front of her chair and ready to leap up at any second, kept looking up at the clock above the bar. Okay, Maggie thought, she couldn’t join in with their reminiscing, not having been part of their group, but did she have to make her lack of interest so very obvious? Maggie could feel her resentment growing stronger. Soon it would have little legs and everything. Why had Angie got Hope involved anyway? Couldn’t she just have stuck to her old friends when allocating the tasks? It would have made life so much simpler. Now, as well as trying to work out how to make things work for Romany, they were going to have to get a measure of Hope on top. It was an added layer of complication that they didn’t need.

‘I’m not sure what I’m meant to do either,’ said Tiger. ‘She gives me travel to mentor and then makes me stay in her flat! It makes no sense. I haven’t lived in one place since I left home when I was Romany’s age.’

This wasn’t true, Maggie knew; of course he had. What he meant was that he had been unable to settle in any one place. He did have a point, though. It was ironic that he should be given travel and then asked to stay put.

‘If you think about it,’ said Leon quietly, ‘it makes perfect sense. You can just move in there at the drop of a hat. All your stuff is in that blessed rucksack and you don’t have to leave anywhere, or anyone, else to do it.’

‘That’s as may be,’ replied Tiger, ‘but I don’t see the rest of you having to put your life on hold to carry out Angie’s last wishes. You can just keep going like you were doing. I’ve got to change everything I’ve ever known. I mean, it’s not that fair, guys, when you actually think about it.’

Hope spoke now. Her voice was clear but she didn’t make eye contact with any of them. ‘Yes, but you do get to live rent-free for a year. Sounds like a pretty cushy number to me,’ she said.

Tiger opened his mouth to object and then closed it again. What could he say to that? She was completely right.

‘What we need to remember,’ said Maggie, ‘is that Romany is an adult. She can make her own decisions. We are just there to help guide her until she finds her feet. There are going to be plenty of things that she’ll want help with. She needs to know that she only has to ask.’

‘Maggie’s right,’ said Leon. ‘None of us knows exactly how this is going to work. So, I suppose we just need to be guided by Romany and take our lead from her.’

The four of them nodded enthusiastically at this, but Maggie couldn’t help thinking that it was more to convince each other than anything else.

‘So, I’ll move in and cover the day-to-day stuff,’ said Tiger. ‘And the rest of you can just step in as and when required.’

‘I suppose so,’ said Leon.

‘That’s easy enough,’ said Tiger with a resigned grin. ‘I mean, what could possibly go wrong?’





3


THE EIGHTIES


1985


Maggie cast a discerning eye around her new home and gave a nod of satisfaction. Her law textbooks were lined up neatly on the bookshelf, their unbroken spines promisingly broad. Her new record player, bought with the proceeds of her summer work experience at a prestigious firm of solicitors, sat on the chest of drawers next to a selection of her favourite compilation tapes. On the desk sat a pristine A4 pad, her pencil case and the black angle-poise lamp that had come with the room. The enamel had chipped off the lamp in several places, which was disappointing, but perhaps she could paint over the larger bare patches with nail varnish so they weren’t so glaring. There was also an umbrella plant in a plastic pot, which her mother had given her for good luck. It stood about a foot tall and was too big for the desk and too small for the floor but, like the lamp, it would do for now. The narrow bed, far narrower than her bed at home, she was sure, was made up with her blue and white checked duvet cover and matching pillowcase set, and her blue towels sat in a neat pile on the end. Look out, University of York: Maggie Summers had arrived.

Of course, exciting though it was to be there, the room was far from ideal. It was barely big enough to swing a cat in. The walls were white-washed breeze blocks that made it feel disconcertingly cell-like and the carpet was faintly tacky under her feet. But Maggie could overlook all that. She was here. She had arrived at university. She had made it happen for herself, and she was going to do everything in her power to ensure it was a success.

Now that she had her new room arranged just so, she was starting to feel curious about her neighbours. The door to her room, B27, led off a long corridor of similar doors. Maggie had requested a quiet area. She was here to work, and whilst she wasn’t averse to letting her hair down from time to time, she was no party animal. So far all seemed well on that front, however. She had seen a boy with lank dark hair scuttling into the room opposite hers when she had gone to check out the bathroom, but he didn’t look the wild party type either. He had offered her a tentative smile, which she had returned politely. She had no real need for friends, but manners cost nothing.