Читать книгу Right Here Waiting for You: A brilliant laugh out loud romantic comedy - Rebecca Pugh - Страница 14

Chapter Five

‘I’m going to be going away for a couple of weeks.’

‘Oh?’ Greg raised his head in interest at the other end of the dining table. ‘And where are you going?’

‘I’m going to visit my father. I’m going to go back to Worthington Green.’

Greg’s eyes narrowed. ‘Your father? I thought you and he didn’t speak any more.’

It was because of Greg that Magda’s relationship with her father had withered away to nothing. ‘We don’t, but life is too short, isn’t it? I’d like to see him again. I have no other family and I feel as though I’ve let my relationship with my father slip away. I miss him.’

‘Nonsense. You have my family,’ Greg said simply, as if that should have been enough for her.

‘I’m talking about my family,’ Magda challenged, raising her voice slightly. She could hardly call Greg’s parents her ‘family’. There was no warmth between them, no relationship or bond. ‘I shan’t be gone too long. Perhaps two weeks, maybe more if things go well. It all depends, I suppose.’

‘Okay. Fine. When will you be leaving?’

‘As soon as I can.’

‘And what shall I tell people?’

Magda fought the urge to fling her plate at his head. Instead, she exhaled slowly. ‘Tell them I’ve gone to visit my family. Honestly, Greg, you’d think it was completely out of the ordinary, the way you go on. It’s not a big deal. People go home and visit their families all the time. It’s not alien to do so and I’ve no idea why you think it is.’

‘It is for you,’ he replied. He cocked his head to the side and eyed her.

With a tight smile, she rose from the table. ‘I’m going to have an early night. Goodnight.’

She felt him watching her as she left the room, but refused to look back at him.

*

The very moment she left the house a couple of days later, Magda felt the weight lift from her shoulders as if it were a physical thing. As she drove away from the place she laughably called ‘home’, she watched it grow smaller and smaller in the rear-view mirror and finally felt able to breathe again. It was a blessed relief to get away, although what she was heading towards would only bring the anxiety back tenfold when she arrived at her next destination. No matter. She was prepared for it. Kind of. All she knew was that she was thankful to get away for a little while. Away from Greg and the lonely, lonely walls of that bloody house.

If Magda was completely honest, she was using the invitation to the school reunion as a ticket out of the miserable life she led, but if only it was as simple as that. This wasn’t just a trip home to see her father. It was so much more.

Magda had wondered, too, if Tom Archer was still around, working in that chip shop he’d spent so much of his time in. She remembered how many nights she and her friends had spent in that place back then. They must have stank of the smell of it when they left but they hadn’t cared. The memory of cans of pop fizzed on Magda’s tongue and the tang of the salty sausages lined the inside of her mouth. She hadn’t enjoyed a chip shop dinner in years. Greg didn’t allow any sort of fast food at home.

Perhaps that’s what she would do this evening once she arrived in Worthington Green, as an act of defiance. Fuck you and your fast-food ban, Greg. I will absolutely stuff my face with food that is bad for me and there’s not a damn thing you’ll be able to do about it. She knew her father would appreciate it. He’d always enjoyed one of the chip shop’s steak and kidney pies, cradled on his lap while he sat in his favourite armchair and chomped away in front of the TV. He was a creature of habit, although it hadn’t always been that way. Only since Helena, his wife and Magda’s mother, had passed away. Before that, he’d been a businessman, overseeing the running of the fishing boats down at the harbour. He’d had a passion then. A purpose. A reason to spring out of bed every morning and get stuck into the day ahead. That had all changed though, and so had he.

There was still a while to go before she arrived, so Magda turned her thoughts to her childhood, which seemed fitting, seeing as her destination was where most of her favourite memories had been created, if not all of them. She’d had a wonderful early childhood, there was no doubt about it. She and her parents hadn’t lived the most lavish of lifestyles but they hadn’t cared. They’d had everything they needed and that was all that had mattered. A bed to sleep in at night, warm food on the table and plenty of love to go around.

It was odd that she’d turned into such a lover of material things as she’d grown older. That had changed now, but she had been very materialistic when she’d first met Greg and saw what sort of lifestyle he was offering. Maybe those expensive things she’d been such a fan of had only been to fill the empty spaces in her life as the years had worn on.

Her mother had grown fresh vegetables and herbs in their small back garden and Magda could remember running along after her in the summer, with a woven basket to collect the final produce once her mother had plucked them from the ground. Potatoes, carrots, tomatoes and runner beans had often found their way into their dinners for the rest of the week. It had always felt comforting, knowing that the ingredients in their meals had come from their very own garden, tended to lovingly by Helena. Magda had always loved the dishes served up at dinner time too. Hearty stews and roast dinners had often graced their table, filling the kitchen with the smell of being at home, of being loved and wanted and taken care of. God, it had been such a long, long time since she’d felt that way.

A stray tear had escaped during her thoughts, and Magda sniffed and hurriedly brushed it away. It wouldn’t do to cry. After all, where had it got her in the past? She knew about crying your heart out. She’d done plenty of that with her back against the locked bathroom door of her en suite. There’d been no need to lock it really. Greg wouldn’t have come looking for her in there. He was oblivious to her upset ninety-nine per cent of the time, and the one per cent when he did notice something was wrong, he chose to ignore it anyway. Stupid, stupid man. For the umpteenth time, Magda felt relief wash over her at being able to spend some time away from him. It would do her the world of good. But what followed was dread at the thought of going back to him afterwards. Well, she just wouldn’t think about that yet. She had plenty of time before her return, so until then, she’d push Greg completely out of her thoughts and focus on what was waiting for her in Worthington Green instead.

Already she felt more like her old self, which was always the way when they spent time apart, as if being away from Greg allowed enough room for her original personality to come back. It was odd, how much she’d lost, when back then she’d only been able to see the things she’d gain, which, in hindsight, hadn’t turned out to be a lot at all.

Turning the volume of the car radio up to drown out her negative thoughts, she hummed along to the song playing and focused on the road. She made a few stops on the journey for coffee and snacks, just to keep her going until, finally, she passed by sights that looked all too familiar. An old windmill she’d been fascinated by as a little girl whenever her father had driven past, conjuring up a fairy-tale quality that had held Magda spellbound. There were the old factories too, now empty and unused and a bit of an eyesore on the otherwise picturesque landscape. With the sky the blue of a watercolour painting, Magda felt her heart lift at the prospect of being here again. She had missed it more than she cared to admit.

The car continued to trundle along, slower now she’d entered the town of Worthington Green, and Magda gawked through the window at her surroundings. The familiar streets and pavements and shops and cafés had hardly changed at all. In fact, it was as if she’d never been away. Soon enough, she was heading down the winding road that led towards the harbour and the tired old homes that were some of the very first to have been built there. As she passed the row of houses that led to her father’s, she wondered about the people inside them. Were they still the same neighbours she’d known growing up? Or had those people moved on with their lives and set up home somewhere far away from this place? There was a strange sort of feeling taking over her. Almost as if time had stopped during her absence and only now that she’d returned were the hands of the clock beginning to tick-tock again.

‘I can’t believe you’re no longer a virgin. What was it like? Did it hurt?’

Sophia bit her lip. ‘I don’t know how to explain it, really. It was like… nothing I’ve ever felt before. It did hurt a bit, but it’s supposed to during your first time, isn’t it? He was so gentle though.’

Magda squashed down the urge to ask more. She didn’t want to seem too interested in it. But she was. She wanted to know every single tiny detail of what it was like to have sex with Tom Archer. She looked at Sophia, tried to spot if there was any difference in her best friend now that she’d done the deed, but there was nothing obvious that had changed. She looked a bit glowy in the face, but that was expected.

‘I can’t believe it. You’re a proper grown-up woman now.’

Sophia laughed. ‘Hardly. He still makes me go all giggly when he kisses my neck.’ She snorted at herself. ‘I guess it’ll be your turn next. We need to find you a man, Magda Crossley.’

‘I’m more than happy to wait for the right one to come along,’ she replied. ‘Until then, I can just live vicariously through you.’

‘Of course you can,’ sang Sophia, dancing around the room.

She was in the throes of young love, and Magda couldn’t ignore the pang of jealousy she felt.