The Legacy of Lucy Harte: A poignant, life-affirming novel that will make you laugh and cry. Emma Heatherington
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whole bloody lot of them rolled into one and don’t you ever forget it!’
I turn my back on Davey. I feel his eyes burning on my backside.
‘I hear you, Dad,’ I say and feel tears sting my eyes. ‘I am absolutely fine and as much as I wish I looked like Lady Di or Liz Taylor or the whole bloody lot of them, believe me when I say that finding a man is the least of my worries. Now, stop worrying! I am thirty-three years old. I can cope with being dumped and having my heart broken. I’ve coped with a lot worse…’
I know that he is pointing his finger through the air in front of him as he speaks. I can just see him.
‘Well, I’m just saying that when the time comes to find love again, you’ll have no bother,’ he tells me, ‘so don’t be worrying that you are going to be on your own because you won’t be on your own for long. You’ve been through enough in your life and if I was talking to the man upstairs if there even is such a thing as the man upstairs I would be telling him that enough is enough and it’s about time he left you alone! Enough is enough!’
And at that I burst out crying.
‘Yes and that is well enough, Robert!’ my mother shouts in the background. ‘Enjoy dinner with Flo and send our love to her, Maggie. Is she crying?’
‘I’m not crying,’ I say, wiping black blobs of mascara onto the back of my hand. ‘I love you both, okay? See you soon. I will come visit really soon.’
‘Do. Yes, see you soon, love,’ says my dad and I can tell that he is crying too.
This makes me feel even worse because every time my second-hand heart breaks, I think my parents feel my pain even more than I do.
‘Morning, Maggie,’ chirps Bridget, our long-serving receptionist who caters for the six businesses who share our building, diverting calls and taking appointments and basically minding other people’s business. ‘My God, what happened? You look a mess. And you’re very late!’
Bridget is salt of the earth, but she couldn’t tell a white lie to save her own life. I know I look like shit. I don’t need her to remind me. I also know I’m late too! I fucking hate this place right now.
I stop in my tracks. I am not just late for work. I am late for a really, really important meeting. Oh shit!
‘Can you tell the guys I will be up in two? And give my apologies, please, of course. I’ve had a rough morning.’
Bridget looks back at me somewhat reluctantly.
‘A speedy two-minute fix-up in the bathroom isn’t going to make much difference, is it?’ I say.
She shrugs and lifts her phone while I quickly nip into the bathroom and see her honesty staring right back at me. I have a face that would scare babies, all blurred mascara, and I am as white as a ghost. Ah well, nothing that a hairbrush and some good old war paint won’t fix. Thank heavens for make-up. I need to compose myself and then forget what day it is.
Lucy Harte, just for now, I will have to try and let your sweet memory go.
A few minutes later I am in the elevator. My eyes are only slightly puffy but I’ve made a good job of looking as normal as I possibly can under the circumstances.
I’m half an hour late for a meeting with Will Powers Jr. I should be terrified. I urge the elevator to speed up. My heart begins to race. See, it works. It may be broken but it works and I am reminded of its presence every day as it breaks into tinier pieces over Jeff and that cat-loving smurf he is living with.…
But anyhow…Will Powers… the boss’s son … the smooth-talking, suit-wearing, stereotypical rich kid who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and was blessed with brooding good looks to boot is waiting for me and he is probably foaming at the mouth in temper.
Will lives in Spain most of the year but comes back and forth to deal with mainly human resources matters and is always tanned and tries his best to be nice but would stab you in the back if you didn’t watch yourself. You could say he has it all really… until he opens his mouth and talks the biggest load of shite you ever did hear in a fake American accent. He has it all, apart from a heart, that is. He could be doing with a transplant too, I often think. Swap his swinging brick for something that actually shows some compassion now and again.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ I say, trying to sound convincing but I’m not really sure that I’m sorry. I can’t feel sorry for anyone, only myself, these days.
Will looks at his watch, then, like a Mexican wave at a football match, the rest do too. Copy-cats. Five faces stare back at me and I feel my face flush.
They are waiting on my excuse. Their silence tells me so.
‘I… I was…’
‘Sit down, Maggie,’ says Will.
I wasn’t expecting such a gathering and I have no idea what this meeting is even about. I was probably informed in advance, but, surprise, surprise, I can’t remember.
The company directors, all of them, are here in one room. I bet I have big red blotches all over my chest, which always bloody happens when I’m under pressure, but, more importantly, what on earth is going on?
Will pulls out a seat and I do as I am told. I sit. He smells of posh cologne and flashes an uber-white smile. ‘I know this is a difficult day for you.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Just try and relax, Maggie. Thirty minutes late is not going to change the world. Have a seat and chill.’
Chill? Who does he think he is, Jay-Z? Who even says ‘chill’ these days?
Why is everyone staring? And what on earth does he know about my difficult day and its relevance to my life? I hadn’t told anyone that it’s my heart anniversary and I keep my private life very much private. No one even knows I broke up with Jeff. Well, apart from Bridget downstairs whose brother knows Jeff’s family and, yes, I told Diane who sits opposite me and… okay, so I may have told a few people. Maybe they all know more than I thought they do about me. But what the hell is going on?
‘I’m sure you have been wondering what this meeting is all about, Maggie,’ said Will. ‘I hope I haven’t been causing you sleepless nights.’
Sleepless nights? I haven’t had a full night’s sleep since Jeff dumped me. It’s not easy to sleep and stalk mutual friends on Facebook for clues on his whereabouts at the same time.
‘I haven’t been sleeping well lately but…’
The five faces are staring at me.
Will looks up at me from beneath dark knitted eyebrows that I notice are the exact same as his father’s. No, Will Sr’s are even thicker. But greyer. Why am I even thinking about eyebrows?
‘Maggie?’
‘I’m fine. Just the odd sleepless night, but yes. I’m… I’m fine,’ I say, screwing up my forehead. I think I have overused that word for one day but it’s all I can think of. I reach out my hands in front and clasp them together. I wish I had papers to shuffle, or a diary to check or something to do with my hands.
‘You don’t have to pretend you are fine,’ says Sylvia Madden, one of the CEOs, from across the table. ‘You have been through quite a lot personally lately and no one expects you to be fine.’
They are all staring at me. I need to get out of here. I don’t want to be here any more. I feel the room closing in.
‘I can’t do this any more,’ I say, but I barely recognise my own voice. I stand up. ‘I need to go… I need to quit. I can’t do it. Sorry.’
I am going to cry. Will shakes his head. He is smiling. Why is he smiling?
‘I understand why you would feel like giving it all up, quitting,’ he says. ‘But you’re not a quitter, Maggie.’
Now,