“Maisy, are you nearly ready? Katy and Freddie will be here any minute,” said Simon impatiently, peeking into the bedroom.
“Just a sec,” replied Maisy without turning from the wardrobe mirror. She traced her lips with lipstick, shook her head just enough to tousle her perfectly styled hair, adjusted the neckline of her dress, and only then faced her husband.
“All set,” she smiled.
“Blimey, you’re stunning,” Simon murmured, pulling her close.
“Careful, the lipstick,” Maisy tilted her head back, giving him a playful, tender look.
“Maisy—” Simon began, his voice suddenly rough, but the doorbell rang. “Typical.” He sighed, loosening his arms and went to answer. Maisy stole one last glance in the mirror, smoothed her dress, and followed.
Freddie was already in the hallway, cracking jokes and holding a massive bouquet of roses. Beside him stood his wife, Katy, clutching a gift bag.
“Where’s the birthday girl? Not greeting her guests?” Freddie boomed, rustling the flower wrap. He spotted Maisy and stepped forward. “There you are. Maisy, you look divine. Simon, watch out—I might steal her.” He planted a loud kiss on her cheek before handing over the roses. “Wishing you—”
“Alright, enough chatter—save the toasts for the table,” Simon cut in.
“Simon, grab the slippers. I’ll put these in water,” Maisy said, vanishing into the kitchen.
The flat instantly felt cramped and noisy. Freddie rubbed his hands together, eyeing the laden table in the centre of the room.
“Maisy, you’ve outdone yourself. I might drown in my own drool,” he groaned theatrically.
“You’ll survive,” she teased, returning with the roses in a vase. She placed them on the windowsill coffee table.
“Clown,” Katy muttered under her breath, rolling her dark eyes.
Maisy rested a hand on her shoulder, as if to soothe her. The doorbell rang again, and Maisy went to greet the newcomers.
“This is Laurie, and this is my sister, Maisy,” Max introduced, handing Maisy another bouquet.
“Nice to meet you,” Maisy said warmly. Laurie barely nodded. “Sorry, we’re out of spare slippers.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll give her mine,” Max offered.
Maisy shot her brother a puzzled look—what on earth did they have in common?
“Seat everyone, sis,” Max said, oblivious.
They returned to the dining room. “You all know my brother, and this is Laurie, his new girlfriend,” Maisy announced. “Over to you,” she whispered to Max before slipping back to the kitchen with the flowers. No spare vase—she stuffed them into a litre jug and left them on the counter.
When she returned, the guests were seated. Simon gestured to the head of the table. Maisy sat and noticed, with surprise, that Freddie and Katy had taken separate sides.
Simon was already pouring brandy for the men and wine for the women. Laurie sat rigid, indifferent, barely acknowledging the plate of salad Max set before her.
“Bloody hell, she’s icy. Max’s had girlfriends before, but this one’s like a statue…” Maisy’s thoughts scattered as Simon stood, glass raised, his tender gaze fixed on her.
A hush fell. Glasses clinked, cutlery scraped against plates…
Maisy scanned the room. Freddie ate noisily, praising her cooking while stealing glances at Katy, who stared at her plate, ignoring him. Laurie chewed mechanically, Max whispering in her ear. Simon kept everyone’s glasses full. His expression said, “See? Everything’s fine. No need to fret.”
Maisy relaxed. Once the hunger was sated and the wine flowed, Simon fetched his guitar. After tuning it, he sang, “You’re the One I Want,” his voice deep, velvety. Everyone knew it was for Maisy.
She swayed, then joined in. Their harmony was effortless. When the song ended, silence lingered before requests poured in. Simon strummed the opening chords of “Yellow” by Coldplay—Maisy’s favourite.
Midway through, Katy stood and slipped into the kitchen, shutting the door behind her.
“Brilliant voice, mate. That deserves a drink,” Freddie declared when the song finished.
“I’ll get the roast,” Maisy whispered to Simon and followed Katy.
Katy leaned against the open window, cigarette trembling between her fingers. Ash dusted the sill—she swiped at it, smudging the powder.
“What’s wrong?” Maisy asked, joining her.
Katy exhaled smoke. “I still love hearing Simon sing,” she said, glancing at the door.
From the dining room, off-key voices belted out “We Are the Champions,” Freddie loudest of all.
“Could you help me?” Katy asked suddenly.
“Money?”
“I don’t need money.” She took a long drag. “Have you and Freddie fought?”
“Maisy,” Katy checked the door again, flicked the cigarette out the window. “I’ve fallen for someone. Properly lost my head.”
“Katy… What about Freddie?”
“What’s Freddie got to do with it?” she snapped, then lowered her voice. “Our marriage is dead.”
“Does he suspect?” Maisy studied Katy’s sharp profile.
“Probably.” A shrug.
Maisy waited.
“There’s this new doctor at the hospital. From the countryside. Took one look and knew I was done for. I swap shifts just to work with him. Think I’m awful?”
“Just… unexpected. What now?”
“I can’t breathe without him. If my son weren’t… We met at Mum’s while she was away. But she’s back now. Nowhere to go.” The words came out like smoke.
Maisy bit her lip, silent.
“You and Simon are out all day, no kids… I’ve no one else to ask.”
“Bit cruel to rub the kids thing in, don’t you think?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“You want to use our flat? Is that it?”
“Just for a couple of hours, now and then. Please. Why won’t you answer?”
Maisy couldn’t look at her. She remembered Freddie’s heartbreak, how he’d pined for the woman with dark eyes and glossy hair, terrified she’d never marry him…
“Doesn’t this doctor have his own place? Oh. He’s married.”
“So what? We’re in love. I can’t live without him. Maisy—” Her voice cracked. “I never thought it’d feel like this. Like I’m being torn apart. When I see him, nothing else exists. My heart pounds so loud, I think everyone hears…”
“No,” Maisy said sharply, turning away. “Ask for anything else—money, babysitting—but not our keys.”
Simon poked his head in. “Ladies, the roast—” He caught Maisy’s pleading look and vanished.
“What are you thinking? Freddie’s a good man, a great dad. Your son won’t forgive—”
“He’ll understand when he’s older,” Katy mumbled.
“I don’t get you. A fling’s one thing, but wrecking two families? You really think it’ll be better with him?”
“I don’t know. I just know I can’t stop. So you won’t help?”
“No.” Maisy grabbed oven mitts, yanked out the roast—her signature dish. Katy held the door as she carried it through.
“About time! We were fading away,” Freddie slurred, already tipsy.
Maisy set the dish down. Freddie stared at Katy, willing her to look back. Laurie remained statue-still. Max drank silently.
Maisy served the food, seething. Katy had ruined the evening. The table was eerily quiet now, even Freddie sullen. Katy prodded her food.
“Not my problem. She’s reckless—I’m not,” Maisy thought.
“We should go. Need to fetch our son,” Katy announced, standing abruptly.
Freddie mumbled and rose too. Simon and Maisy saw them out, Katy avoiding Maisy’s gaze.
“Fancy some cake?” Maisy asked brightly, returning to the table.
Max said they ought to leave too—Laurie didn’t eat sweets.
“What’s with everyone?” Maisy huffed.
“Sis, we really should go,” Max said.
Soon, they were alone.
“Leftovers galore,” Maisy sighed, clearing plates.
“What were you and Katy whispering about?” Simon asked, helping.
“They’ve had a row. She was complaining about him.” Maisy headed to the bathroom. She emerged in her robe, makeup gone.
“You’re even lovelier like this. Cosy,” Simon said over the dishes.
“Thanks.” She yawned. “Exhausted.”
“I’ll finish up. Go rest.”
Maisy flopped onto the sofa. Simon joined her later.
“So, whatLater that night, the phone rang—Freddie was at the station, Katy was gone, and nothing would ever be the same again.
