The Vintage Teacup Club (27 page)

Maggie shook her head and concentrated on putting the folder back in her satchel.

‘Look, Maggie,’ Owen said, in a no-nonsense way. ‘I’d like for us to be on better terms than this. We left things badly the other day.’

‘What, do you feel guilty?’ she said, clicking the clasp on her bag shut again and looking up at him. ‘You should,’ she continued. ‘You were way out of line. But if you want to pull out of the wedding, then that’s your decision.’ Maggie stood up straighter. ‘How did Lucy react when you told her? Or did you two have more important things to do than discuss that?’

‘Actually I haven’t spoken to her yet,’ Owen said, his voice calm. ‘And for God’s sake Maggie, please can you stop it with this stupid conspiracy theory? There’s nothing going on between Lucy and
me, and it’s pretty ridiculous that you’d think there was, to be honest.’

Maggie recoiled. Oh, she thought, a blush creeping up her neck. Oh dear.

‘Jack’s my best friend, Lucy’s his fiancée, end of story.’ Owen looked unruffled.

‘But, but … the necklace?’ Maggie said, her mind racing, losing whatever cool she might have had left.

‘Ah, the necklace,’ Owen said. ‘Or, as you clearly see it, the evidence. Yes, it’s Lucy’s. She gave it to me because she wanted the stone reset and my neighbour here is a jeweller. If you go next door I’m sure he’d be happy to show you the new setting now.’

Maggie felt her cheeks burning hot. She knew she was in the wrong, but she didn’t want to back down.

‘Maggie, look,’ he said. ‘Come inside? The kettle’s just boiled.’

At least Owen hadn’t broken the news to Lucy, yet, and if there was still a way to salvage the wedding she had a duty to Lucy – and to her business – to find it. She stepped inside and sat down on a worn corduroy-covered sofa that was placed against the wall. From it she could see the garden through the wide windows, with its jasmine and honeysuckle and a group of birds crowding onto the little bird table. Owen handed her a chipped mug of milky tea heaped with sugar she hadn’t asked for, and she cradled the mug in her hands while he
took a seat next to her.

‘I’m sorry,’ Maggie finally managed to say. ‘I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.’

‘It’s OK,’ Owen said. ‘It was an honest mistake, even if the case for the prosecution was pretty flimsy. Anyway, you don’t know me, and if you did I hope you’d realise I’d never do something like that.’

Maggie’s face relaxed a little.

‘By the way,’ he continued. ‘I meant almost everything I said to you the other day.’ She raised an eyebrow at that and her instinct was to leave. ‘But still, I’m sorry.’ He looked down and ran a hand over his hair. ‘For the way that I said it. I never meant to offend you, I know I was harsh. It’s a bad habit of mine. You’re not the first person I’ve upset like this, just ask Jack. But listen,’ Owen went on, ‘I was wondering if we might be able to meet in the middle somehow.’

Maggie looked at him in disbelief.

‘Are you sure about that? You made it pretty clear when we spoke that you’ve got nothing but distaste for the way that I run my company.’

‘That’s not what I meant at all,’ Owen countered. ‘I respect your business, and the way you manage it.’

‘Really?’ she said.

‘Yes.’

He looked away from her as he said it. That T-shirt really could do with a good wash, she thought, and the denim of his jeans was wearing pretty thin
in places. But sitting beside him, she couldn’t help noticing that he smelled good; his arms and neck had a sheen of fresh sweat that she took in, alongside the soil and leaf smells of outdoors.

‘I know I must have sounded self-righteous,’ he said, turning back to look at her.

‘Too right,’ Maggie said, quietly.

He ignored her and continued. ‘And judgemental. And I handled the situation all wrong. But I know you’re more experienced than me with this sort of event, and maybe that made me feel a bit small.’

OK, Maggie thought, surprised. Perhaps I can work with this.

Owen carried on. ‘I should be better at understanding people whose values are different to mine.’

‘But there you go again,’ Maggie said, all the feelings that had made her walk out the other day flooding back. ‘That’s not it at all. My values aren’t that different. I’m not celebrity-obsessed, and believe it or not I don’t hate polar bears.’

Maggie stopped herself as she realised she was starting to lose her thread.

‘Anyway, I don’t know why you insist on pigeonholing me like that.’ Maggie’s head hurt from all the confrontations of the past few days. She just wanted it all to stop. ‘I hadn’t thought all of the ethical choices through, no,’ she said, close to giving in now through sheer
exhaustion, ‘but that’s not because I don’t care. It’s just that most of the time I’ve been slogging my guts out to meet deadlines and make ends meet.’

‘But can’t you see that while you’ve been meeting your deadlines, your environmental choices will have already made an impact,’ Owen said, forcefully.

‘Enough,’ Maggie retorted, getting to her feet. ‘I didn’t come here to be preached to, Owen. I really, really can’t handle any more arguments now.’

Owen looked up at her, surprised.

‘Your life is so simple, isn’t it?’ she went on. ‘So I don’t always live mine perfectly, but do you have any idea what the last few weeks have been like for me?’ Maggie’s voice strained as she struggled to keep control of her emotions.

‘No,’ Owen said. ‘I don’t. But it always seems pretty rosy over there with your flower business, and you’ve got your own house, haven’t you? I just assumed—’

‘Rosy? Ha!’ Maggie gave a wry laugh. ‘No, Owen. It has not all been rosy.’

‘Sit down,’ Owen said. Reluctantly, Maggie took a seat next to him again.

‘What’s been going on?’ he asked, gently.

‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘I mean nothing and everything. My life got turned upside-down for a while, but it’ll be fine.’

‘Really?’ he said. The look in his eyes seemed
to change, soften a little. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. Are you sure you’re OK?’

‘No,’ Maggie said, tears springing to her eyes. ‘Actually I’m not that sure at all.’

Owen’s hand reached over to touch Maggie’s where it lay on the sofa, and they both rested on the floral fabric of her tea dress, next to her thigh. She didn’t pull her hand away.

‘I want you to be OK,’ he said, hesitating. ‘You deserve to be happy. And for what it’s worth, I know you’re not really as bad as I made out. You don’t seem like a polar bear hater to me,’ he smiled. ‘Perhaps, if I’m honest, I wanted you to be.’

They locked eyes. Maggie’s heart was beating hard in her chest.

‘It would all be easier that way,’ he said. ‘If there were some concrete reason why I could stop caring about you.’

He was close to her right now. Really quite close. Had his mouth always looked that tempting? He reached a hand up to touch her hair, and her chest constricted. She put her hand up to block his.

‘Owen, stop,’ she said, her voice soft, hushing the rush of adrenalin she felt under the surface.

He dropped his hand and looked down. She saw that the man who had made her so angry was now fragile in her presence. She sat up straight and looked over at her bag and jacket. She was going to get up
and go. She’d pick up her things and go. Five minutes and she’d be out of here and on the road. But she should really say something first. She turned back to him.

‘Owen, I’m sorry, I’d better …’

He nodded, silently. She raised her hand to touch the side of his face. His skin was warm, and in a instant his hand covered hers. It felt familiar, his touch. Her mouth met his full lips and she felt the warmth of his kiss, tasted part of that scent of outdoors that had drawn her to him earlier. Owen brought her closer and his hands ran through her thick red hair as if this was the only chance they’d get. Then he pulled back for a minute to look over her face, to take everything in. He didn’t say a word.

Maggie kissed him again and let the rush of feeling block out every other troubled
thought.

Alison was sketching out a thigh in charcoal, Maggie was focusing a little higher up, and I was sipping champagne from my glass and fighting the urge to giggle. I suspected it had been Ali’s idea to build in a creative element to my hen party – and here we all were in one of Charlesworth’s artists’ studios, with a pretty gorgeous naked male model in the middle of the room.

‘I tell you what,’ Chloe whispered to me, picking up a piece of chalk to add the highlights on the model’s body – she was really launching into the drawing with gusto, ‘he is nearly enough to make me backtrack on swearing off men.’

Maggie, overhearing, caught her eye and winked. Chloe seemed to have turned her
back on Jon for good this time, and she seemed more confident with every passing day. It was good to see how Maggie was starting to bounce back after Dylan’s betrayal too.

‘I know what you mean about temptation,’ I glanced over at the model again and smiled. ‘And there I was, thinking I was ready to sign up for a lifetime of monogamy.’

When I finally got over the awkwardness of not knowing quite where to look, I sketched in the outline of the man’s body, the muscles, and then began to fill in the dark and light patches and the detail. The fizz of the champagne was making me feel light – as I was drawing I could hear voices around me, the girls laughing and having fun together, pouring more bubbles, and every so often I’d hear a snatch of conversation and join in. When we finally looked up at the clock it was nearly six, time for us to step back from the easels and move on to the next venue.

‘Hey Jen, move back, let’s see yours,’ Chloe said, pushing a rogue curl out of her eye and shuffling round to get a better look at what I’d drawn.

‘It’s good, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘Hey, Alison, you’re arty, aren’t you?’ Chloe shouted over. ‘What do you think of what Jen has drawn? I think it’s good.’

Alison came over, and cast an eye over
my picture and took her time responding.

‘Not bad at all, Jenny,’ she said.

I blushed, uncomfortable with all the attention. But then I thought of the package I’d given Alison to pass on to her friend – the book I’d finally finished working on. I knew publishers received tons of submissions, but perhaps it wasn’t mad to think I might stand a chance?

‘OK, ladies,’ the woman running the session came around to where we were standing. ‘Ooh that’s nice,’ she said, looking at what I’d drawn. ‘I’m afraid we’re going to have to let Marcus put his clothes on again now.’

The girls reacted with a chorus of dismay.

Alison jumped in. ‘OK, so we’re done with the hors d’oeuvres, let’s go on to the main course. May the eating and drinking commence!’

‘So, we asked Dan,’ Chloe said, ‘“What is your favourite part of Jenny’s body?” What do you think he said?’

‘Er, hmm … I don’t know. Bum?’ I replied.

‘Nope!’ Chloe said jubilantly, handing me another shot glass. ‘Eyes. What a charmer. Drink!’

I downed my sambuca. Two hours ago things had all still been fairly civilised – we’d left the studio and come here to Jasmine’s, a Chinese restaurant on the high street, for dinner and drinks. We had a corner table and half a dozen more of my friends had come to join us; girls from uni and school I hadn’t seen for ages and who I was touched had made the effort to come – as soon as we hugged hello, the years apart had seemed
to dissolve; they all seemed just the same. Annie, the girl I’d once played with out in our street, showed me photos on her iPhone of her baby girl. ‘She’s gorgeous,’ I told her, it was clear that she was brimming over with pride about the new arrival. ‘I love her to bits,’ she said, ‘but you know what, I haven’t been out for months, and I really can’t wait to get a bit wasted with you tonight.’ She gave me a squeeze.

Dan’s sister Emma was there too, laughing and covering her ears at the more explicit Mr and Mrs questions. There were a few, and I had been sort of relieved to get them over and done with, but embarrassment aside, I was loving having all of my closest girlfriends here. Women from different times and places in my life but who had all formed some of my favourite memories, and were throwing themselves wholeheartedly into making sure I’d have new happy memories of tonight.

Maggie and Chloe were huddled together talking about something away from the rest of the crowd when I interrupted them.

‘What’s going on over here?’ I asked. They’d only met that morning but had really hit it off.

‘Nothing,’ Maggie said. Chloe looked sheepish.

‘Nothing?’ I said, unconvinced.

‘OK, there is something,’ Maggie said, and Chloe nudged her sharply in the ribs. ‘Chloe’s got her eye on someone and we were just working out
a little plan of action.’

‘Really?’ I said, feeling excited but also a little left out. ‘And who’s the new man?’

Chloe was blushing fiercely now, something she didn’t often do.

‘Oh no …’ I said. ‘It’s not …’

Maggie was trying to stifle her laughter.

‘Marcus?’ I guessed, remembering the buff model we’d all been drawing earlier. Chloe looked relieved, exchanging looks with Maggie and nodding.

‘Yes, him,’ she said, giggling. But there was something in her eyes that hinted it wasn’t him at all.