The Maddie stood by my window and the Maddie two years ago before Frank came along were two different people.
Before she met Frank, Maddie was lively and sociable. She was the centre of her little community in Northwest London and would always be at someone’s house party, summer barbeque, having an impromptu coffee morning or raising money for her community. Her social media would be ablaze with photos of her mingling at a barbeque, or a birthday party or grinning with a small army of charity gardening volunteers. I couldn’t recall the last time Maddie had told me she’d been out with her old friends. All she did now was stay inside her luxury home and she never used her social media anymore.
I could never tell Mum I was worried about Maddie’s marriage as she would first scream down the phone at me, call for Gary to make her a new cocktail to calm her nerves and then lecture me on what a bloody good catch Frank was and how my sister would never have to struggle financially, like she did when Dad left us.
‘Maddie, don’t you miss strolling into town, going for a coffee or a pub lunch, bumping into some friends and having a nose in some local shops?’
Maddie shrugged, wandered around my living room and came to a stop at my makeshift Olivia shrine. I’d covered a little table with photos and personal things which reminded me of Olivia and made me feel she was still with me in some way. Maddie lifted one of the photo frames and smiled. It was the photo of Olivia and me at a line dancing event. Olivia had seen the event advertised and had one of her lightbulb moments – we both needed to experience line dancing. The next night we both dressed up as cowgirls and pulled two handsome cowboys – well… two lads from Brighton with rubbish American accents.
Two years ago, Olivia applied to be my flatmate. I didn’t know her before that. We hit it off the second we met. Her flat-share interview started in the kitchen over a coffee and ended many hours later in a cocktail bar after a lot of dancing, squealing, and chatting. We had the same sense of humour, the same taste in men and I loved how she wrote novels in her spare time. I’d also never met someone who enjoyed talking as much as I did. In a matter of weeks, we went from strangers to flatmates to – as she put it – ‘soul sisters’.
Maddie peered underneath the table at Olivia’s pink vintage typewriter, along with a pile of her self-published novels. ‘My favourite is the regency romance where the duke falls from his horse into an icy river and is saved by a beautiful maiden who nurses him back to health in her little cottage in the woods. Oh, my goodness, I was an emotional mess by the end when he goes back to find her.’
Pulling my knees into my chest, I wished Olivia could hear Maddie’s unofficial book review.
My mind brought back that awful day at the end of September when two police officers came to my flat to inform me Olivia had been in a road accident. She’d been cycling to work and she collided with a car. Paramedics tried to save her at the side of the road, but nothing could be done. It was one of the worst days of my life.
Maddie touched Olivia’s pink coffee travel mug, which I had kept. ‘Whenever I came to visit, Olivia would always appear carrying this. Sometimes I wondered whether it was surgically attached to her hand.’
I smiled and blinked away tears. Maddie came to perch on the sofa arm. ‘It must be hard living in this flat with all your memories of her and your dripping ceiling. Have you thought of finding somewhere new to live?’
‘If I moved away, I wouldn’t feel close to her.’
I felt my sister’s warm hand on my shoulder.
‘If I am honest, Maddie, the shrine for her over there is not working. I don’t feel close to Olivia here, but I’m giving it time.’
‘Rachel, I know you don’t want to, and I get that it still hurts like hell, and you want to stay close to her, but you do have to move on with your life.’
‘I’ll think about it in the new year.’
Maddie continued. ‘You’re not tied to a job right now so you could go anywhere.’
‘Yes, good point,’ I mumbled.
‘Why don’t you leave project management and go back into catering?’
Years ago, after leaving college with an array of catering and cooking qualifications. I started a small mobile catering company. I turned an old blue camper van into a mini kitchen, and I made and sold food at festivals and weddings. I gave it up as it didn’t make much money and Mum kept nagging me to get a proper job.
The idea did awaken something inside of me. Maybe I could go back to what I once loved. My mind reminded me of Mum’s five-year job change nagging campaign. ‘That would result in Mum setting up another WhatsApp chat about me and I would never hear the end of it.’
She nodded. ‘How are things… romantically?’
‘Non-existent. I blame Sam for cheating on me last Christmas.’
Maddie checked the time on her phone. ‘I better be getting back. Remember to be at ours on Saturday morning. We leave at noon. Frank will give you a lecture on the house rules.’
I patted her on the arm. ‘He doesn’t need to do that. I know the rules. You’re right about me needing a break.’
‘Oh, and we now have a cleaner who will be coming in every few days. Frank also has a builder working on the new kitchen. The builder will be there. I’m sorry.’
‘Will I be able to cook food?’
Maddie laughed. ‘The new kitchen is being built on the end of the old one. Frank has kept the old kitchen, but he has said eventually it will become a playroom.’
My sister fiddled with her gigantic engagement rock and her wedding band. ‘I’ll get pregnant. We’ll go back to live in the States so I can have the baby over there. Frank thinks the healthcare is better.’
‘Living over there made you sad.’ I reached out and touched my sister’s arm. Her blue eyes were watery.
