it back again.
Oh, she’d seen him all right. She’d looked at the profile shots. She’d had friends in common who would share a photo or two, affording her tantalising glimpses of him, and of his wife, who she assumed was the golden-haired goddess hanging off his arm… She realised she was hardly breathing as he slowly came towards her. ‘Maddie’ was his first word to her in twenty years, accompanied by twinkly eyes in the hazy light.
And there it was. The spell was broken. The wondering. He was here. Right. In. Front. Of. Her. With one hand in his pocket.
Those same earthy brown eyes, the crinkles a bit more etched into his tanned face, with cheekbones that really should be on a model… She couldn’t help glancing down at his left hand to confirm what she already knew. Ring. On. Finger. It was as if someone had stabbed her. She took a deep breath in and tried to keep her smile fixed on her face.
‘Greg.’ She was rooted to the spot.
‘How are you?’ A lifted eyebrow, offhand. It was the one underneath the little scar. Yes, it was still there. He laughed, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He leant towards her and in that moment she felt both faint and exhilarated. He kissed her on the cheek and she was immediately back. Back to graduation day in 1998: the smell of leather, the woody aftershave, that feeling of a quickening heartbeat – but then the pain, how she felt out of place. Then heartache. The sickening feeling. The disappointment in her mother’s eyes, how Maddie had watched her lips twitch. Oh, Maddie.
There was a reason why she’d hesitated when the invitation for the university reunion had come through, forwarded by Liz, ‘Twenty Year Reunion!’; it was more than just a bit of Botox and a push-up bra that was stopping her going. Those weighty trunks of emotion stored in her personal attic were heavy to bear. He won’t be there, Maddie, another mutual friend had assured her. She’d decided to go, to find a bit of the ‘old Maddie’ – whoever that was. She’d disappeared under a pile of 50 per cent polycotton duvets waiting to be ironed a long time ago.
But now she was in a room with him. Talking.
He was still looking at her, but not really seeing. She was back to being twenty-one, glued to the spot and short of breath. And there it was, the bitter bile rising up, the pain seeping into her heart. The memory of all those years ago. Oh, Greg. She gave a nod and smoothed down her hair.
‘I’m fine.’ A tight smile.
Fine. Stupid Maddie. You didn’t want it to be like this, did you? Polite. Smiling. Fucking friends.
He tipped his head to one side and awkwardly smiled. Then he took his hand out of his pocket and for a moment she wondered if he was going to reach out. Touch her even. She inhaled sharply.
‘Actually, I’m on my way out of here,’ he said, straightening up and adjusting his collar. He looked at her intently, and she was sure it was still there: that bond, that unspoken connection. Neither of them wanted to mention the past. They couldn’t right now, but she could feel the undercurrents, the tow of emotion running deep between them, pulling them towards each other like a rip tide; the unsaid words, the silence before he spoke, saying only what he could say, not what he seemed to want to say.
It was the familiarity, the way she knew that he had a mole right there, just under his left ear, where the earlobe met his jaw. She glanced up at him; yes, it was still there. How can it be that you remember the landscape of your lover’s face twenty years on? The detail, the way nature has carved out particular idiosyncrasies that you know about, the ones on show and those buried beneath clothes: the scars, the birthmark, the lopsided nipples. She blushed, remembering. A ripple ran across her skin.
Suddenly, there was a clattering of heels.
‘There you are!’ Ellie came toward them, as Greg frowned at Maddie.
‘It’s Elliot,’ she whispered to Greg – the electricity between them was almost tangible. But as soon as Ellie appeared, Greg made his excuses and shot off through the doors to the dinner hall.
They sat at separate tables. Maddie picked at her food and allowed her glass to be refilled several times, and eventually emerged from the fuggy