Experience had taught Maggie not to let anyone help when she was in charge of preparing a meal. Cooking wasn’t an impossible task; far from it, it was something she enjoyed doing, but there were challenges and it required her full concentration. All she had to do was keep track of what she had put where and as long as well-meaning helpers didn’t come in and move things around, she could turn out a pretty mean curry. Maggie especially loved working with spices that would release delicious aromas when crushed, ground, toasted or simply left to simmer in the pot.
Tonight, Maggie was more than happy to enforce her rules, which afforded her a little respite from more onerous duties. Judith and Ken had arrived and James had been left to play host to his parents with only Harvey as reinforcement. Jenny was predictably late but at least she had phoned to say she would be on her way very soon. Maggie had warned her that if she didn’t hurry up then she’d be around personally to drag her out of the house. Jenny lived in a large 1930s semi-detached house, similar in size and style to Maggie’s and only two streets away, so she knew the threat wasn’t an idle one.
Stirring the lamb curry, a cloud of steam billowed upwards and Maggie breathed in the spiced air. The mix was the perfect balance of earth and fire and it made her mouth water. She used a wooden spoon to scrape across the bottom of the pan and judged that the curry needed a little longer for the sauce to thicken and the vegetables to soften. A quick taste confirmed that she had the balance of flavours and seasoning just right. Everything else was ready and there was nothing left to keep her from her guests – the quick hello on their arrival wasn’t good enough and she knew it.
Maggie opened the kitchen door and stepped out of her haven. The hallway was long and wide with a solid timber floor and ceilings that reached the full height of the house above the staircase. She could hear the distant thud of heavy raindrops hitting the skylight above.
Her pensive footsteps made only the barest whisper but as she slipped past the living room door on her right, a floorboard creaked. Maggie stopped immediately and explored the floor tentatively with her socked foot. This part of the house had seen the most change since moving in and the flooring had only been laid six months ago so the boards were still settling into place. She stepped gingerly to the left until her outstretched hand brushed against another door on the opposite side which was nestled beneath the stairs and had once led to a large garage that was now divided into two separate workspaces. This door gave access to her office while the remaining space, accessible from the front of the house, was James’s workshop.
Maggie’s nerves were getting the better of her and she tried to regulate her breathing as she approached the dining room door. Her leg hit something and it clattered to the floor. Cursing herself, she scrambled around to find what had fallen over. At the same time, a series of measured creaks marked the approach of someone on the other side of the door. When it opened, she detected the scent of her husband’s aftershave.
‘I knocked an umbrella over, that’s all,’ she whispered.
‘Time for a stiff drink?’
‘If only I could,’ Maggie mumbled as she entered the room.
The dining room had been recently redecorated and as Maggie walked in she was thankful for the sense of security it gave her. This was her territory. The newly plastered walls had been painted a soft shade of green that was almost blue, complementing a feature wall which had been papered in a raised art deco pattern of silvers and greys, and the soft furnishing and accessories picked up the reflective tones of the wallpaper. Before the cloud of curry spices had a chance to overwhelm the room, Maggie could detect the scent of the rosemary- and peppermint-scented oils she had left warming to welcome her guests.
‘Ready for some help yet?’ Judith asked.
‘No, everything’s under control,’ replied Maggie, her false cheerfulness a perfect match for that of her mother-in-law.
‘Here you go, love, you’ve earned this,’ Ken said.
Maggie could hear the glug of a wine glass being filled. The bouquet of dark plum mixed with notes of oak cut through the already heavily scented air. Whether it was nerves or delayed signs of morning sickness, her stomach flipped as she took a seat at the dining table.
‘Not for me, thanks, Ken. I’ll keep to sparkling water for now.’ The pause she left was the perfect opening for the announcement but the only sound from James was the clink of glass as he poured her water. She had no choice but to continue and said, ‘I need to keep a clear head while I’m in charge of dinner.’
‘Mum was saying how Liam’s been pestering Carolyn for a dog.’
‘I wonder where that idea came from,’ Maggie said, patting her hand against her thigh and within seconds Harvey was by her side, nuzzling her hand with his wet nose as he deciphered the scent of the meal she had been preparing. A soft sneeze confirmed that he wasn’t impressed with her choice of menu.
‘So is she going to give in do you think?’ James asked his mum.
‘I hope so. A dog would be good company for her. She gets so lonely with Tony working away so much. I’m a bit worried about her if I’m being honest.’
‘They were debating different breeds when we left,’ Ken said when everyone else fell silent. Neither James nor Maggie was prepared to launch into a debate about the state of Carolyn’s marriage. ‘It was a good job we came home when we did. Given half a chance, your mum would have marched them all off to the nearest kennels to put down a deposit on the first puppy they saw.’
‘I hope they don’t get a Labrador,’ James said. ‘The boys might be less inclined to come up here otherwise.’
‘You know there’s more for them here than just Harvey,’ Maggie said, picking up immediately on the insecurity in James’s voice that he was trying hard to disguise. ‘They might love him to bits but they love you more.’
‘And let’s not forget their wicked stepmother,’ James reminded her.
Maggie’s gentle laughter helped her relax a little. Her first taste of motherhood had felt daunting at the time but in hindsight it had been nothing compared to the prospect of caring for a newborn. There had been a gradual introduction into the boys’ lives and, with her mum by her side, Maggie had embraced her new role and the challenges that came with it. ‘The one who can see through walls, you mean?’
Liam and Sam had learnt very quickly that they couldn’t get away with quite as much as they had first expected with Maggie. Her hearing could see around corners and through closed doors and occasionally she had even been able to detect the sound of wet tongues being poked at her. But that had been in the early days. Their reluctance to accept a rival for their father’s affections had been overpowered by Maggie’s winning charm, one that had four legs and a wagging tail.
‘How’s Kathy doing?’ Judith asked her, clearly not willing to dwell on her daughter-in-law’s virtues. ‘Still working at the salon until all hours? It’s high time that woman slowed down.’
‘She never will and I can’t imagine the place without her,’ Maggie said of the person who had been pivotal in getting her business up and running eight years ago. Aromatherapy had been little more than a hobby before then, and the offer to rent out an old storeroom in Kathy’s salon had been too good to turn down.
‘We all thought she was mad moving away from Nantwich and setting up in Sedgefield, of all places. Her mum was absolutely against it but Kathy was as stubborn then as she is now,’ Judith said.
‘She’s stubborn?’ asked Ken before turning to Maggie and saying, ‘I have to take cover when those two are in the same room. How they’ve remained friends for the best part of fifty years is beyond