Breach of Faith

by Andrea Hughes

  “Frank, I wanted to apologise –”

  “Wait!” Frank strode to the end of the counter, opened the flap and stepped through. Without looking at me he opened another door wide. “In here.”

  I squared my shoulders and marched resolutely past Frank, stopping in the middle of the room. Dreadlock Man gave a small snort as I walked away which I determined to ignore.

  A choking noise forced me to turn. Frank was staring at me, amusement warring with embarrassed dismay on his face. He turned his back and slammed the door, pausing for a moment before swivelling to face me, his face pinched. “What do you want, Kate?”

  “I owe you an apology,” I took a step towards him, “Frank, I’m so terribly sorry.”

  “About what?”

  “Huh?”

  “What are you sorry about? Accusing me of being an alcoholic? Or maybe calling me a murdering bastard? Perhaps you’re sorry for me because I have cancer?” Frank’s face was stony, his eyes burning, his voice low and rasping with emotion. I flinched but to my surprise I was positive there was also a flash of desire in the blue depths; carefully concealed.

  “All of it,” I whispered. “I … I was upset and guilty; I blamed you for what we did. Paula told me –”

  “I know. She should have kept her mouth shut.”

  “Frank, she knows I care about you. I am sorry about your leukaemia, I wish you’d told me.” I hesitatingly held out my hand in comfort.

  “I tried to, Kate, you just didn’t give me the chance. You were too busy accusing.” Frank batted my hand away with his own, “what we did was a mistake, you know that.” He turned away but not before I saw the sorrow in his eyes, “I’m sorry too, Kate. I’m sorry I considered your friendship worthwhile, and I’m sorry I started to develop feelings for you beyond a simple friendship.” He turned back to face me, his hand rising, stopping just short of my cheek before falling limply to his side, “and I’m very, very sorry I made love to you, Kate.”

  “Frank –”

  “I think you’d better go, Kate.”

  “But –”

  “Please, Kate, just go. I accept your apology but there’s nothing more to say.”

  “I have to tell you something –”

  “You just have. Thankyou. Now, I’d like to be alone.”

  I walked slowly to the door. “I’m not sorry we made love that night.” I grasped the handle but was halted by Frank’s voice. He was irritated but obviously amused too.

  Keeping my back turned to him, my hand still clutching the door knob, I squared my shoulders. I was not going to let him see the tears welling in my eyes. He may have made me feel like a useless friend but he was not going to take away my dignity. Not even he could do that.

  “Kate, there’s something I should tell you.”

  Chapter fourteen

  1 November

  “What happened then?” Martha was on the edge of her seat, agog with curiosity. “Did he declare undying love?”

  I raised my eyebrows in exasperation and elbowed her in the ribs. “After telling me he’s sorry he’d ever met me?”

  “He also told you that he had feelings for you,” Martha reminded.

  “He was sorry about that too.”

  “He liked you enough to take you to bed,” Martha replied softly with a glance at Tom. “And possibly get you pregnant.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  “So? What did he tell you?”

  I hesitated, flustered. “Doesn’t matter,” I mumbled.

  “Kate?”

  Face burning, I finally caught my friend’s eye. “He told me that I really should use a mirror when I get dressed.”

  “What?” Martha scratched her head, “I never saw Frank as some kind of fashion guru.”

  I crossed my arms across my chest and spoke through clenched teeth. “He’s not. He just needs to grow up.”

  “Kate, you’re not making any sense. What –”

  “He pointed out, between chuckles, that I’d tucked the back of my skirt into the waistband of my undies.”

  Silence.

  “Oh!”

  “Is that all you’re going to say?”

  “Which ones?” Funny, squeaky voice.

  “Which ones?”

  Martha was trying hard not to laugh, “which undies?”

  “You know which ones.”

  “Black, lacy, bare-bummers?”

  Embarrassed silence.

  Martha snorted, giving in to her mirth, “oh, Kate. How … um … how much did you show?”

  “Enough,” I answered shortly.

  Martha let out a hoot of laughter, “I’m sorry, Kate, I really am, but you have to see the funny side. Do you … um … do you have a respectable bum?”

  Turning a withering stare onto Martha, I summoned every last speck of dignity I could muster. Back straight and shoulders squared I replied, “good enough to scare a teenager, my friend. Good enough to scare a teenager.”

  *

  I lay down on the sofa and closed my eyes. Tom would be waking soon and a wave of pregnancy exhaustion had overtaken me. Ten minutes, that’s all I needed, ten minutes rest.

  A small smile turned up the corners of my mouth as I thought about the embarrassing incident with my skirt. It was either laugh or cry about that one and I really didn’t have the energy to cry right now. The smile soon disappeared though and I put my arm over my face, effectively blocking out all light, all reality.

  “So what happened,” Martha had asked, “when you told Frank about the baby? When he realised that he could soon be a daddy?”

  My silence had answered the question more succinctly, more plainly than any words ever could.

  “Oh Kate. You have to tell him. He has a right to know.”

  A right to know? Did he? Did he really? In my heart of hearts, I knew that Martha’s words were sound. Both Frank and Will had a right to know but how the hell was I going to tell them.

  “I’m sure it’s not Frank’s,” I had lied. “Doesn’t cancer treatment make people infertile.”

  “But how can you be so sure without talking to him?”

  “Well, Will was there first. Twenty-four hours before I slept with Frank. It has to be Will’s.”

  “First come, first served, you mean?” Martha sighed, “Kate, it doesn’t work like that as I’m sure you’re aware.”

  “This time, it has to,” tears welled in my eyes, “I just can’t bear to think about the alternative. It was a mistake, Martha, a horrible mistake because I thought Will was sleeping around”

  “So, pay-back, was it? Tit for tat? Grow up, Kate.”

  “No!” I stared beseechingly at Martha’s disapproving face. “It wasn’t like that. Frank made me feel good.”

  “I’ll bet he did.”

  “We had a couple of drinks at the motel and we talked. For the first time in ages I felt attractive. Frank listened to me, he laughed at my jokes and I laughed at his. He made me feel young again.”

  Martha nodded slowly. “So to say thanks you gave him your body. Great decision, Kate, look where it’s got you.”

  Lying here now, temporarily shielded from the world, I could almost believe that none of it had happened.

  Almost.

  What now?

  “I don’t know,” I muttered.

  You have to find out the truth, you have to be honest. With them. And yourself.

  “It’s all happened so fast,” I moaned, “one minute Frank is in my head, then…”

  His head is in you.

  I cringed, “that’s gross.”

  You know what you have to do.

  “Do I?”

  There’s only one thing you can do.

  I removed my arm and opened my eyes, “you’re right, I have to tell Will that he’s going to be a daddy again.

  “And I have to forget about Frank.”

  Chapter fifteen

  6 December

  “What are you doing?”

  I looked up from the lar
ge pile of thick jumpers to find Will’s amused face in the doorway.

  Will’s grin broadened. “At a guess I’d say you’re feeling a bit chilly?”

  Wiping an errant drop of sweat from my temple, the temperature was well into the thirties today, I glared at my husband. “If you must know, I’m sorting out our warm clothes. A shop in town is selling off all last season’s winter stuff, half-price. I can’t pass that up.”

  Will frowned, “ shopping. Yes, I can see how you’d find it difficult to miss that opportunity.”

  I stuck out my tongue, ‘smart arse. I was making sure we have enough to keep us cosy in the middle of an English winter, but if you keep up those smarty-pants comments I’ll leave all yours behind. You can freeze your butt off.”

  Will stepped up and put his arms around me, hands resting on my flat stomach, chin touching the top of my head. “I’m sorry,” he said, counterfeit contrition oozing from every word. “Cross my heart and hope to die, I promise, no more smart arse.”

  “Clown,” I pinched the skin on the back of his hand, a small smile touching my lips.

  Will planted a gentle kiss on the top of my head. “When are you going shopping?”

  “Now,” I leaned back against him, pushing my bottom invitingly into his groin. “Unless you had other plans?”

  I held my breath; this wasn’t the first time in the last few weeks I’d tested him like this, with a subtle sexual implication or gesture. Take me to bed, my actions demanded. So far the answer had always been no, this time …?

  Will hesitated, “no,” he ventured, “nothing planned.” He removed his hands from my belly and ruffled my hair, “and, please, no purple jumpers. I’m begging.”

  As he sauntered out of the room, I placed my hands over my womb, shocked to realise I honestly didn’t know whether to feel dismayed or just relieved at Will’s lack of interest. Trying to ignore the empty space in my heart I turned to pick up my bag.

  Who’s it for, that empty space in your lonely heart? Who’s it for?

  And with that question echoing in my brain, I quietly closed the front door behind me.

  *

  Holding the little slippers in one hand, I ran my finger slowly across the surface of the miniature footwear. “So gorgeous,” I whispered. “I’d forgotten how small …” I held the slippers close to my belly, “do you like these ones or would you prefer green?”

  Rubbing my lower stomach gently, I smiled and dropped the tiny yellow slippers into my shopping basket. This was an excellent idea, retail therapy can help to forget anything.

  “I’m sure you’d agree,” I grinned to my belly, giving it a little pat. “Spending money makes me feel good and, if I feel good, you must too.”

  “I do,” said the quiet, oh-so-familiar voice and suddenly the bubble I had surrounded myself with as protection from the rest of the world burst so succinctly, so utterly, that it left me breathless.

  “I want you to feel good,” continued his voice, full of badly-disguised sadness, “although I don’t think those would fit you, Kate.” A long, muscular arm snaked over my shoulder, plucking the tiny slippers from the relative safety of my basket and waggling them beneath my nose.

  I closed my eyes, swaying, don’t faint, please don’t faint.

  When the world steadied, I opened my eyes and slowly turned to face him.

  Oh look, it’s Frank.

  Frank.

  If all else fails, I thought as the shopping basket dropped from my nerveless fingers, if all else fails … RUN.

  It was all a blur as I ran hell-for-leather through the racks and shelves of skirts, shirts and socks. An arm shot out of nowhere, trying to catch me, and I batted it away, registering briefly a loud bang and clatter behind me.

  I could hear my name being called and I pumped my arms in a desperate effort to escape. I could see the door now, an automatic sliding door, notorious for not opening fast enough when you want to walk through. It was wide open now, though, a mouth waiting to gobble me up.

  Run, Kate, run, the little voice said gleefully.

  “KATE! Wait.”

  Run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run.”

  The door loomed closer, slowly closing as if in slow motion.

  “Kate, wait!”

  Move those feet, girl, move those feet.

  My feet were slowing, I screamed as the door kept closing. Almost there. Then …

  … it all went black.

  *

  “Kate? Are you okay?”

  I groaned, not another dream, when is this going to stop? When is Frank ever going to get out of my head?

  Or his head out of you?

  Stop that.

  I could feel a dull throb in my temples and an ache on one kneecap. All I wanted to do was go back to sleep but that damn hand kept shaking me.

  “Kate, talk to me.”

  “Gerroff,” I muttered, my head pounding, “dream. Need sleep.”

  “Kate, wake up.”

  “Shall I call an ambulance?” This time a woman’s voice. “She did hit it pretty hard.”

  Groggy as I was the return of reality was a gradual and painful process but eventually my wild eyes flew open. “Why is there a woman in my bedroom?”

  “Kate?” The man’s voice was back, along with the belated realisation that it wasn’t Will. I squeezed my eyes closed in desperation: maybe he would disappear if I couldn’t see him.

  “Kate, open your eyes.”

  The authority in his voice was palpable, it was all I could do to stop myself from obeying him.

  “What about the ambulance?” The woman sounded unsure.

  “NO!” I opened my eyes. Thankfully, the spinning had almost stopped, although my head felt like it was going to burst. I took a deep breath, “no,” I repeated. “I’m fine.”

  Rising unsteadily to my feet, I swayed alarmingly and a strong hand placed itself firmly under my elbow.

  “There’s a seat outside,” Frank murmured, “come sit down.”

  Thankful to escape the attention, I allowed Frank to steer me through the shop door and towards the shady bench. “What happened?”

  Frank sat down beside me, “I was hoping you could tell me. One minute I’m making polite conversation, the next you’re tearing through the shop as if the devil himself was after you.” He paused, “you ran slap-bang into the glass door.”

  “No wonder my head aches.”

  Amusement, confusion and something undecipherable were warring for prominence on his face. I looked away, embarrassed.

  “You also totally wrecked one of their manikins,” Frank continued in a strange voice. “Its arm went flying halfway across the store. Almost took some poor old bloke’s head off.”

  Feeling the heat rise in my cheeks as I realised he was desperately trying not to laugh, I rubbed them briskly. “I thought it was trying to stop me.”

  “What on earth happened in there, Kate?”

  I thought for a moment, “I don’t know, it’s all just a blur, like a dream. I remember someone chasing me –”

  “That was me,” Frank interjected, trying to get control of himself. He held up a number of plastic bags, “you left your shopping behind.”

  I grimaced, I didn’t understand myself why I had panicked so how was I supposed to explain it to Frank. How could I justify the sudden feelings of terror and confusion? The way my heart had missed a beat when I heard Frank’s voice? The way my womb had tightened at the sight of him, my baby reaching out to … its father?

  “I … well … oh, bloody hell.” I grabbed at the bags in Frank’s hand, not entirely sure who I was angry at. I took a deep breath, “I think I might go home now,” I announced calmly.

  Frank shook his head, “I don’t think so.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I think you should see a doctor.”

  “Why? I’m fine.”

  Frank looked away, choosing every word with infinite care, “I understand congratulations are in order.” He stared pointed
ly at my belly in illustration. “Your husband must be thrilled. I thought, in your … condition, you should have a check up.”

  I felt faint again, “how did you know?”

  A humourless smile briefly touched the corners of Frank’s mouth. “The only people I know that talk to their bellies are either crazy or pregnant. You may be a little … eccentric at times,” his smile widened a touch at this and I was sure he was thinking of the recent incident with my skirt, “but together with the way you keep touching your stomach and the bizarre behaviour today, it could only really mean one thing.”

  I smiled wanly, grudgingly agreeing with Frank’s assessment of the situation. Maybe a visit to the hospital wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

  “Come on,” Frank waggled his fingers in invitation, “I’ll give you a lift.”

  Too tired to fight, I gratefully accepted Frank’s help and followed him to his car.

  Chapter sixteen

  6 December

  It was quiet in the car. Neither Frank nor I even bothered with tedious small talk, never mind intelligent conversation. A couple of times, I glanced curiously at him, but his face was stony, concentration fully on the road ahead. I didn’t know what to say to him, better just to keep my mouth closed, at least until I could guarantee that I wouldn’t stick my foot in it.

  Great idea, the little voice said smugly, after all, there’s no need to mention your baby’s paternity, is there?

  “No,” I turned my face to the window. “Go away.”

  “What?”

  His voice was full of concern. Oh God, my fingers itched to rub his cares away.

  Making tight fists with both hands, I folded myself into the far corner of my seat. “Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

  The remainder of the journey went in silence.

  At the hospital, I jumped out, slamming the door behind me. Turning off the engine, Frank climbed from his seat but I waved him back and he paused, uncertain.

  “Thanks for the lift,” I called, already making my way towards the hospital entrance, “I’ll be fine from here.” After a long pause I heard a car door close and heaving a deep sigh of relief, I entered the building without looking back.