stood, comically, in front of her in a towel which, on him, looked like a miniskirt.
‘What?’
‘You, um, you look a bit ridiculous.’
He simply raised his glass as in a salute to her, then downed it in one.
Once they were sat at the table and Maddie had dished out huge bowls of spaghetti, she tried not to notice Greg’s bare leg pressing on her thigh. Just then, his phone bleeped. There had been several boats that had lost their mooring that afternoon, and a few had been smashed up in the harbour. One person had been taken to hospital for hypothermia, and another experienced sailor from the club had apparently broken his arm as the boom had crashed onto him in the storm. ‘We were lucky,’ Greg muttered, ending the voicemail and looking at her and Ed.
‘Thanks for looking after us today, Greg, and for saving Taffie.’ Ed leant his head to one side. Greg nodded in response and leant down and patted Taffie, who had followed him into the kitchen.
‘I’m bushed,’ Ed said, yawning and stretching both arms above his head. He gathered up the three plates and put them next to the sink. ‘I’m heading to bed.’ He turned back around. ‘Yeah, I’ve learnt a lot!’
‘You have.’ Greg took a slug of wine and then refilled his and Maddie’s glasses. ‘You’ve experienced things that no class lessons can teach you. Good work out there today. I know it was pretty terrifying. Holding your nerve on that boat took some effort, nobody can teach you that.’
Ed nodded. ‘Night – and, um, thanks again, Greg, for saving Taffie.’ He looked at Maddie, eyes misting.
‘He’s a great little warrior.’ Greg leant down and put a hand on Taffie who was now curled up next to his bare feet.
*
Maddie and Greg tidied up the kitchen in companionable silence using some unwritten code: she put away food in the fridge, Greg washed up. Finally, it was just the two of them sitting by the fire. His shorts had dried and he had changed back into them after supper. She put another two logs on the fire, and they crackled loudly as they fell back on the others, catching light. Orange flames burst up and circled both logs; she was finally feeling warm. Greg poured them both another glass of red wine from a new bottle. Surely Greg wouldn’t drive back now? Taffie jumped into his lap again.
Greg had a photo in one hand, his other stroking Taffie gently; it was of Ed in a highchair, burbling in delight, his hands covered in chocolate. Maddie was standing behind him, laughing, with a glass of something in her hand.
‘I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me,’ Maddie said, noticing how he was now frowning at the photo. The fire spat out a few sparks and Taffie looked up, yawned, then snapped his jaws back together and rested his head on Greg’s lap again.
‘I don’t hate you, Maddie.’ He turned to look at her. ‘That’s something I’ve never felt. Frustrated, yes. But you’ve given me a son I didn’t think I’d ever have.’ His eyes were misty. The mood had altered.
‘Yes but it’s, it’s…’ She didn’t know what she wanted to say. She felt so overwhelmed with emotion. Tim had been given the privilege of bringing up Ed and yet what had he done? Barely engaged with the child. And it was guilt, guilt that had kept her with him. She’d always felt she’d done the wrong thing, that she’d put the family through ‘hell’ as she’d once overheard her mother saying and that had cut through her like a knife slicing rotting flesh. It was such a simple solution. Marry Tim, make it all right, take away the shame, stifle your tears at night. Good girl.
‘Well, better now than never…’ he said, his eyes settling on something behind her and then he looked her in the eye again. ‘You did put this place on the market?’ he said. ‘There’s a board outside. I’m not—’ He broke off.
‘Yes – time to sell up and move on. There’s not much more I can do to the place.’ She smiled bravely, even though the thought was like ripping out her heart. If she could do it once, she could do it again.
The room was stuffy, the wind ratting the windows. Maddie put the back of her hand up to her cheek. It was burning hot. She looked over at Greg’s empty glass.