might enjoy meeting.’
‘Ahh,’ Maggie said, ‘I see where this is going. Thanks for offering Ali, I appreciate it. But work takes up most of my time.’ Alison raised an eyebrow at that. ‘And anyway …’ Maggie’s voice suddenly became more business like. ‘Well, seeing as I have you two here, can I pick your brains aboutsomething?’ She rearranged her position on the rug, hugging her legs to her. ‘I’ve got a bit of a dilemma.’
‘Of course,’ Alison said with a warm smile, and I nodded. ‘Step into the surgery. What’s up?’
‘It’s a man thing, unsurprisingly,’ Maggie ventured, her cheeks colouring a little. ‘I wasn’t always the weird scented-candle-cat-lady, you know,’ she said, smiling.
‘For a woman like you, I’d say a glamorous romantic past is a given,’ Alison encouraged her.
‘Agreed,’ I said, ‘and as for the cat thing, I’ve really only heard a couple of kids call you that.’
Maggie gave me good-natured push.
‘So I was married once,’ she said, her voice gaining strength now. ‘When Dylan and I tied the knot I thought that was it, happily ever after.’ Maggie took a sip of wine and her brow creased as she searched for the right words.
‘Anyway, after three years he changed his mind.’ She shrugged her shoulders and continued. ‘He said he’d been unhappy for ages. I hadn’t realised at all, perhaps I’d had my head in the sand but it felt to me like one day, without any warning, he packed his things and left our London flat. I couldn’t afford the rent on my own, needed a change, and so I came to live down this way instead.’
‘How long ago was that?’ I asked. I was still processing what Maggie had said – how could any man leavea woman like her?
‘Four years,’ Maggie said. ‘Four years, some difficult, some rewarding. I started up Bluebelle and bought my house.’
‘And what about Dylan?’ Alison asked.
‘We didn’t – couldn’t – speak. That was the hardest thing but also the only way the two of us could let go. We never had that many mutual friends, only one or two, and I fell out of contact with them once I’d left London. I just drew a line under the marriage and built a new life for myself.’
‘But now?’ Maggie said. ‘Something’s changed?’
A frisbee landed in the middle of our rug, missing the wine bottle by a couple of centimetres. A blond teenage boy in board shorts dashed over to retrieve it. ‘Sorry ladies,’ he said, giving us a cheeky smile. I passed the frisbee back to him, then listened to Maggie continue her story.
‘This week Dylan got in contact and made it clear that he wants to meet up. He says he’s sorry, and, I suppose this is my dilemma, I’m wondering whether to hear him out,’ Maggie said.
‘I see,’ Alison responded. ‘So he’s had all that time to look around, sow his wild oats a bit, get lonely, and now he wants you to forgive him, right?’
Ouch
. I thought, that was a bit blunt.
‘Yes, maybe,’ Maggie said, tilting her head.
‘Does he deserve a second chance, do you think?’ Alison asked, and a flush roseto Maggie’s cheeks. She looked as if she wished she’d never brought the subject up.
‘How about we look at this another way,’ I said, feeling for her. ‘You say you never really understood what happened, and that it came as a surprise when he left. Would it help you to know what his reasons were?’
‘Part of me thinks that.’ Maggie shrugged. ‘Some closure might help me to move on with my life. Romantically, I mean.’
‘In that case, I think you should do it,’ I said. ‘Why not?’ Alison raised her eyebrows at me. ‘Give him a chance to clear the air, at least.’
‘OK, I think I will,’ Maggie said with a nod. ‘It’s all water under the bridge for me. What he’s going through now, doubting the decision he made, wanting to see me again, I went through all of that years ago. I feel sorry for him, in a way, that he’s only just at the start of
‘Ahh,’ Maggie said, ‘I see where this is going. Thanks for offering Ali, I appreciate it. But work takes up most of my time.’ Alison raised an eyebrow at that. ‘And anyway …’ Maggie’s voice suddenly became more business like. ‘Well, seeing as I have you two here, can I pick your brains aboutsomething?’ She rearranged her position on the rug, hugging her legs to her. ‘I’ve got a bit of a dilemma.’
‘Of course,’ Alison said with a warm smile, and I nodded. ‘Step into the surgery. What’s up?’
‘It’s a man thing, unsurprisingly,’ Maggie ventured, her cheeks colouring a little. ‘I wasn’t always the weird scented-candle-cat-lady, you know,’ she said, smiling.
‘For a woman like you, I’d say a glamorous romantic past is a given,’ Alison encouraged her.
‘Agreed,’ I said, ‘and as for the cat thing, I’ve really only heard a couple of kids call you that.’
Maggie gave me good-natured push.
‘So I was married once,’ she said, her voice gaining strength now. ‘When Dylan and I tied the knot I thought that was it, happily ever after.’ Maggie took a sip of wine and her brow creased as she searched for the right words.
‘Anyway, after three years he changed his mind.’ She shrugged her shoulders and continued. ‘He said he’d been unhappy for ages. I hadn’t realised at all, perhaps I’d had my head in the sand but it felt to me like one day, without any warning, he packed his things and left our London flat. I couldn’t afford the rent on my own, needed a change, and so I came to live down this way instead.’
‘How long ago was that?’ I asked. I was still processing what Maggie had said – how could any man leavea woman like her?
‘Four years,’ Maggie said. ‘Four years, some difficult, some rewarding. I started up Bluebelle and bought my house.’
‘And what about Dylan?’ Alison asked.
‘We didn’t – couldn’t – speak. That was the hardest thing but also the only way the two of us could let go. We never had that many mutual friends, only one or two, and I fell out of contact with them once I’d left London. I just drew a line under the marriage and built a new life for myself.’
‘But now?’ Maggie said. ‘Something’s changed?’
A frisbee landed in the middle of our rug, missing the wine bottle by a couple of centimetres. A blond teenage boy in board shorts dashed over to retrieve it. ‘Sorry ladies,’ he said, giving us a cheeky smile. I passed the frisbee back to him, then listened to Maggie continue her story.
‘This week Dylan got in contact and made it clear that he wants to meet up. He says he’s sorry, and, I suppose this is my dilemma, I’m wondering whether to hear him out,’ Maggie said.
‘I see,’ Alison responded. ‘So he’s had all that time to look around, sow his wild oats a bit, get lonely, and now he wants you to forgive him, right?’
Ouch
. I thought, that was a bit blunt.
‘Yes, maybe,’ Maggie said, tilting her head.
‘Does he deserve a second chance, do you think?’ Alison asked, and a flush roseto Maggie’s cheeks. She looked as if she wished she’d never brought the subject up.
‘How about we look at this another way,’ I said, feeling for her. ‘You say you never really understood what happened, and that it came as a surprise when he left. Would it help you to know what his reasons were?’
‘Part of me thinks that.’ Maggie shrugged. ‘Some closure might help me to move on with my life. Romantically, I mean.’
‘In that case, I think you should do it,’ I said. ‘Why not?’ Alison raised her eyebrows at me. ‘Give him a chance to clear the air, at least.’
‘OK, I think I will,’ Maggie said with a nod. ‘It’s all water under the bridge for me. What he’s going through now, doubting the decision he made, wanting to see me again, I went through all of that years ago. I feel sorry for him, in a way, that he’s only just at the start of
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