Authors: Alice Hoffman
M
ADDY WAS ASLEEP
when she heard the man across the hall, shouting. She looked at the clock: ten-thirty again. She went to the door. It sounded like the same fight every night. Maybe all lovers' quarrels were the same hurts repeated over and over again. Maddy put her hand on the doorknob. She could hear her own raspy breathing as she listened to the couple's dispute. It sounded as if it was the end of something.
She sat down cross-legged on the floor, her ear against the door.
“How could you do this?” the man said.
Maddy started to cry even though the quarrel had nothing to do with her. She should have opened her eyes when she was up in that sycamore tree. Maybe then she would have loved her mother. Maybe her mother would have loved her back.
She fell asleep on the carpet, curled up by the door. In the morning, her bones ached. On her way to breakfast she stopped at the desk to complain about her noisy neighbors to a young woman named Kara Atkins who seemed to be in charge of guest services, however limited such services were at the Lion Park.
“The people across from me are making a huge racket. They're ridiculous, the way they go at it. I can't sleep.”
“I'm so sorry. Let me check.” Miss Atkins went to the registry and looked up Maddy's room. “Oh, you're on the seventh floor, 708.”
“They're at it every night. It's endless fighting. I know it's none of my business, but it's very disturbing.”
The hotel management would be happy to move Maddy to another floor, Miss Atkins said, but Maddy told her not to bother. Paul might come looking for her; she didn't want to chance not being there.
When she went in to have her breakfast there was Teddy Healy, asleep in one of the booths. He was curled up like a mouse, snoring lightly. He'd been there all night. The hotel management treated him kindly; he was their oldest customer and they seemed to take care of him. Seeing him like that, Maddy decided to pull herself together. Then and there. She did not want to end up drunk in some hotel bar. She was not going to waste away like the heron's wife.
She had coffee and toast and jam and went back upstairs to collect her dress. It was time for the bridesmaids' prewedding fitting. On her way back to her room, she noticed that the door of 707 was open. She peeked in. Hopefully the fighting couple was at last checking out.
The room was empty. Not only were there no guests, there was no furniture. No dresser. No bed. Several mattresses were stored up against the wall. It was freezing. When Maddy exhaled, her breath turned to smoky air. Maddy remembered that her mother's bedroom was always cold. She never wanted to go in there; she was afraid. Maybe she was like her father, ready to run at the first hint of a crisis. Allie had to take her by the hand and pull her past the door. It's just Mom, you silly, she would say. She won't bite.
Maddy went downstairs to the front desk.
“It turns out I don't have neighbors,” Maddy told Miss Atkins. “There's no one in that room where all the fighting's been going on. There's not even a bed in there.”
“Well, they say it's Michael Macklin,” Kara Atkins explained sheepishly.
“Is he famous or something? Am I supposed to know who he is?”
“He's a ghost,” Miss Atkins explained. “Or at least that's what people say. You understand, I don't believe in such things.”
“That's great,” Maddy replied. “I'm glad he's moved.”
“Oh, he didn't move. There hasn't been furniture in there for over twenty years and that hasn't stopped him. Ghosts go wherever they like. They don't need a bureau or a desk.”
“I thought you didn't believe in such things?”
“I don't,” Kara said. “But I've actually heard this one.”
“You're not serious.”
Maddy saw the expression in Kara's eyes.
“Good lord, you are,” she said.
“The incident took place in 1952, which is fairly modern in terms of a haunting, if there is a haunting.”
“Not that you believe,” Maddy said.
“Exactly. One of the participants in the actual event comes to the bar every night. Probably reliving what happened. But he won't discuss it.”
“Teddy Healy? The older gentleman?”
“That's him.”
“Are you telling me that's what I'm hearing at ten-thirty every night?”
“I'm just telling you a story,” Kara said. “You can decide the rest.”
M
ADDY HAD BEEN
planning to take a cab to her sister's, but now she thought she might walk. She didn't like talk of ghosts and of love gone wrong. It was a good thing she'd decided to stop drinking. She was going to get on with her life. She carried the maid of honor dress over her shoulder. In the sunlight it looked even more brilliant as it floated behind her. When she turned into the park everything was dreamy and green. Today, she didn't hate London, even though the weather was still hot. There was the scent of something that reminded her of the marsh at home. It had a spicy, fragrant odor. The Serpentine was ahead. There were model boats in the water. The leaves on the trees were green, but the edges were yellow. She entered a garden where huge white roses grewâwhite saucers that seemed carved out of ice, except that they moved with the breeze.
Maddy was going to be late, but she didn't care. She had done everything wrong so she might as well be the last to arrive at her sister's. She stopped at a kiosk for a fizzy lemonade. She could see why somebody might want to haunt this park, walk down this path again and again, smell the same roses forever after. That would be a nice loop to be doomed to repeat if you had to be a ghost, if you believed in such things. Ghosts didn't need furniture, so maybe they didn't need love either. Maybe they slept in nests in the trees, looking down at the stupid things human beings did.
Maddy made her way to Bayswater. When she entered Allie's flat, the other bridesmaids were already there in their creamy suits. They stood around in silence; it seemed more like a wake than a fitting for a joyous event.
“Couldn't you be on time this once?” Georgia said.
“Not that it's any of your business,” Maddy said, “but I got lost.” It was almost true, after all. “Where's my sister?”
“Why don't you find her yourself?”
Allie was in the kitchen, crying.
“Look, I'm sorry,” Maddy said. She tossed her dress over a kitchen chair and went to put her arms around her sister. “I'm an idiot and I'm late. There are no excuses for the stupid things I do. Your friend Georgia has already informed me of that, and I can't argue with her. I am so sorry, Allie. I think you should disown me.”
Allie leaned in close. “He's ill, Maddy. He has been all year. I didn't want to burden you, and Paul didn't want anyone to know. He's been so angry. Now he's taken a turn for the worse.”
Maddy could hear how noisy the fridge was in this apartment. She hadn't noticed it before. She hadn't noticed, either, that her sister looked so drained. She had never seemed excited about her wedding, only dutiful.
“He was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin's lymphoma last year, stage four when we found it. I found it. He'd been sweating at night and he'd lost his appetite. We were in the shower together when I felt it. A lump under his arm. We thought it was nothing, a bug bite that had become infected, something like that, but that wasn't it. It turned out to be cancer. It was everywhere. He didn't want me to talk about it. The thing isâI was going to break up with him before he became ill.”
Maddy went to the sink for some glasses of water. That way Allie couldn't see her face.
“He was a lousy boyfriend. I don't know if I ever really was in love with him or if it was just time to settle down when he proposed. We were both wrong for each other, but there we were. I had to see him through treatment, didn't I? I'm not the sort of person who leaves, but it was horrible. Much worse than Mom. He was so sick from the chemo, they didn't know if he'd survive it. He lost thirty pounds, he lost his hair. I had to stay.”
Maddy brought the water to the table. “Of course you did.”
“He was enraged. Why him? Why us? Why anything. Well, I wasn't going to do what Dad did, was I? I wasn't going to leave in the midst of a crisis. Then he went into remission in the winter. He didn't need a bone marrow transplant. He was getting stronger. In March, I told him that it was over and he got so mad again. God, he was furious. We had pretty much broken up right before you came to visit in April. I was just going through the motions; you must have guessed at that cake tasting. I was going to cancel. And then it came back and everything changed.”
Neither sister could drink her water.
“It was too late for the transplant,” Allie said.
“He'll get better.”
“You're not listening to me, Maddy. There is no better. There's probably not even a tomorrow. He was admitted back into the hospital after the dinner. It's happening so fast. He's lost his vision. He can't move his legs. It's up and down his spine.”
Maddy needed to sit down. “I didn't think this could happen so fast.”
“I'm sorry to tell you like this. I told the others when they arrived today. Georgia and Hannah knew, but no one else. Oh, and Mom. She's always known.”
“Mom?” Maddy could barely swallow. “You told her and you didn't tell me?”
“I wanted to protect you.”
“Of course. I'm so weak. I couldn't be any help to anyone!”
Allie looked wounded. “I didn't mean that at all.”
“Why can't you ever treat me like I'm an equal?” Maddy took out her pack of cigarettes and lit one. Allie didn't even tell her to put it out. Here was Maddy, once again thinking of her own hurt first. She took one drag, then stubbed the cigarette out in a plate. “I'm an idiot,” Maddy said. “I'm sorry.”
“We'll have the wedding in the hospital. I wish we could have it under the sycamore tree. We could tie bells and bows to all the branches.” That was what the heron wife had done to call her husband home when he strayed in Allie's book. “We'll have to pay off the Orangeryâthe caterers and the flowers and everythingâwe always knew that was a possibility. That's why I wouldn't let Mom and Dad pay for anything.”
“Dad knows? God, Allie, the whole world knew and I didn't?”
“Paul didn't want you to know.”
“Did he single me out? Did he say, Don't tell Maddy?”
“No, of course not. He's just so headstrong. He's the kind of person who will refuse to see our closest friends, then take some lonely old lady out to the theater or to dinner. He didn't want to ruin my life with his illness. He did everything he could to make me dump him. I thought it was just because he was so angry at me. Now I understand he wanted to set me free.”
“Are you telling me that he's dying?” Maddy didn't quite sound like herself.
Allie was wearing her wedding suit. She'd lost so much weight she was down two sizes. “He is,” she said.
Georgia peeked around the doorway, then came into the kitchen. “Everything all right?” Georgia linked her arm through Allie's and gazed over at Maddy. “You told her?” Allie nodded. “We don't have to go on with the fitting,” Georgia suggested. “We can send the tailor home.”
“Hell, no,” Allie said. “I'm going to make sure everything's moving right along.”
When Allie went into the parlor to see about her bridesmaids, Maddy turned to Georgia. “What hospital is he in?”
“Bart's,” Georgia said. “St. Bartholomew's Hospital. That's where he was in the autumn. Hannah and I took turns staying with Allie back then.”
“I had no idea,” Maddy said.
“Did you ever ask?”
“Don't make this my fault. Allie can never accept any help.”
“Well, your mum has been back and forth all spring and summer. She's been helping out all the while.”
Maddy felt stricken.
“I'm surprised he didn't tell you himself,” Georgia said. Here it was; the reason for her dislike. “Did you think I didn't know when I saw you together in the taxi? You both looked so guilty. Let's just hope Allie never finds out.”
Maddy escaped into the parlor and slipped on the blue silk dress. None of the bridesmaids was speaking. Only the tailor and his helper were chattering away. Maddy's dress didn't need to be taken in at all. “Perfect,” the tailor said.
“You look gorgeous,” Allie agreed. “The dresses have already been paid for, so they may as well fit correctly. You can all wear them for some other occasion.”
The tailor and his helper began to pack up their packets of needles and pins.
“Do you want me to stay?” Maddy asked her sister. She knew what the answer would be.
“I'll call you if I need you,” Allie vowed, even though they both knew she never would.
Maddy took a taxi back to her hotel, left the dress at the front desk, then returned to the waiting taxi and continued on to the hospital. There was a great deal of traffic and it was nearly dinnertime when she got there. The hospital was like a labyrinth, crowded and confusing. She hated hospitals. No one seemed to have any information, but at last Maddy found Paul's room. A nurse stopped her and insisted she put on a blue mask. Maddy went in, eyes averted so she wouldn't be imposing on the first occupant in the room, who was in bed and breathing with great difficultly. Already she felt like crying. Paul was in the second bed, ashen, half-asleep, hooked up to an IV. Paul strained to see.
“Allie?” he said.
His optic nerves had been affected and all he could see were shadows. Maddy should have realized that at the groom's dinner. She'd been too busy hating him to really notice what was going on. He was desperately ill.
“No. It's me,” Maddy said.
“The little sister.” Paul grinned. He looked his age. Not so boyish now. “You're supposed to bring flowers and sweets on hospital visits.”
“I can't believe you're such a good liar.” Maddy sat on a hard-backed chair beside his bed. She took his hand. It was limp, cold. “You should have told me.”