by J. A. Kerr
“Oh you’re more than sinking, Si…you’re finished. You’ve got no one but yourself to blame.”
“Oh fuck off, Phil,” spat Si.
It was his second hang up. Si viciously kicked his desk before collapsing into his chair. He tried calling some of his friends but no one was taking his calls. His only hope was Tess. She was all he had left he realised. He knew, one by one his friends would distance themselves from him and his scandal. As if by association…they would be implicated in his sordid life. He’d seen it happen before. No longer caring if the reporters were still around, he returned to the kitchen and made himself a coffee but saw nobody. Maybe they had left. He wandered back to the lounge. Where the hell was Tess? He’d been so caught up with everything, it was the first time he felt concern for her. Not coming home was totally out of character, but then again, so was their fight. Si realised most of his troubles had started since he’d met Anna Dunbar.
Cool and beautiful. Smart and fiery, he’d been drawn to her immediately. She wanted him. He was never wrong, he knew women. However, her cold and judgmental voice earlier made him grind his teeth. The stupid bitch was meant to be on his side and yet she’d asked about Tess. He’d wanted to laugh. She’d wasn’t concerned about his wife when she was flirting with him; hypocrite. However, flirting wasn’t a crime, whereas asking for drugs and paying for sex was. The public would be shocked. The coffee and paracetamol he’d taken earlier were beginning to help. He needed to speak to Tess. He didn’t know who to call to ask about her whereabouts. She rarely saw friends. He rang her parents, secretly hoping they hadn’t seen the online news. A short frosty call with them confirmed they had seen the online news and that Tess was not with them. He dialled her number again, frustration making him end the call as soon as her voicemail started. His own mobile continued to ring. None of the calls were from Tess, but he kept hoping. Alarm shot through him when his producer’s number flashed on screen. He was too afraid to answer. He heard her leave a short terse message asking him to call her immediately.
Si hated to admit it but he was missing Tess. They’d worked and lived together for many years now and it was a shock to his system to be alone. Tess handled everything and he’d gotten used to it. Perhaps taking her for granted. He doubted a woman like Anna would be so obliging. In fact, now Si thought about it, he doubted anyone could measure up to Tess. She had a way with people. She was kind, loving and compassionate. All the qualities Si lacked. Had he pushed her too far?
There was more shouting through his letter box which Si ignored. He needed a drink badly and felt better after the first sip of wine. As Si drank his mind wandered. He’d enjoyed being married more than he’d expected. His wedding ring seemed to turn women on more; like an unspoken challenge. Even his wedding night hadn’t stopped them and if Si admitted it, he’d been thrilled. Tess didn’t seem to keep in touch with her friends anymore which was a shame. Si had slept with all of them. They were always so grateful. He got up to refill his glass, blinking rapidly in the bright kitchen after the dullness of the lounge. He glanced outside but saw no one although he knew they were still there. Filling his wine glass to the brim, he returned to his study and laptop. As more and more media sources picked up on the story it seemed to grow. Si checked his mobile intermittently in case Tess called, but she’d thrown him to the wolves like everyone else. Well, he didn’t need her, he thought savagely. The loud thumping at his door interrupted his sour musings. Cautiously Si approached.
“Si, it’s Phil.” The voice was muffled but Si knew it was him.
Opening the door, Phil bolted inside amidst whirling cameras and shouts from the press pack outside and followed Si into the darkened lounge.
“Where’s Tess?” asked Phil agitatedly.
“No idea,” Si slurred.
“You’re pissed,” Phil said accusingly.
“So what,” he sneered. “I’m in my own home; I can do whatever the fuck I like.”
“Yeah, no change there, Si. You’ve done whatever the fuck you liked since I met you. God knows why Tess has stuck with you.”
“Oh piss off, Phil; I don’t want your lectures.”
“Lecture?” Phil spat. It’s more than that today; it’s cards on the table time. I used to admire your work, Si, but Tess has been carrying you for years. You’re lazy, arrogant and out of touch. She’s the one the public respond to. Did you know she’s been approached for an independent project?”
Si stared at Phil speechless.
“Yes, that got your attention. To be honest, Si, the studio hasn’t been happy with you for a while. You’re a pain in the ass to work with. Most people tolerate you because of Tess.”
Si opened and closed his mouth like a fish.
“Evelynn has already drafted in a replacement for the show. She said she’d left you an earlier message to call her? As of now, you are suspended.”
“What, that’s it? I’m guilty as charged.”
“The video was pretty conclusive. There is no ambiguity over what you were doing,” said Phil coldly. “You’re fucked.”
Si sat down on the sofa. “I’ll bloody sue that paper, it was a set up,” he said angrily.
“You don’t change,” said Phil, incredulity in his tone. “It’s all about you. Have you thought how this will affect Tess?”
“Tess this and Tess that. Fuck Tess,” screamed Si. “Where is she when I need her?”
“You’re pathetic,” said Phil. I’m glad she’s come to her senses and left you.
“Shut up, Phil,” Si raged.
“You will get what you deserve, Si...a good kick in the bollocks and it couldn’t happen to a nicer guy. You couldn’t even keep it in your trousers on your wedding night. Broke my heart to see Tess asking where you were. Everyone knew you were upstairs shagging her maid of honour. You disgust me.”
Si’s face had grown hot but he said nothing.
“Truth hurts doesn’t it? Well, I’m not finished. You’ve shagged your way through so many women; the papers won’t struggle to get collaboration. They’re probably queuing up as a matter of fact. I bet they can’t wait to tell about the biggest man whore on television. No pay off this time. I warned you but I don’t know why I wasted my breath.”
“Finished,” said Si quietly.
“Oh yes, I’m finished...and so are you,” said Phil, turning on his heel. “I’ll see myself out.”
The door slammed. Si put his head in his hands. He was trembling. Phil had hit the target. He’d hurt Si where it mattered most...his ego. He tried to tell himself Phil was being dramatic but couldn’t pull it off. When he’d heard the disgust in Phil’s voice, he’d felt an unfamiliar emotion—shame. Phil was right, he hadn’t once thought of Tess and how his behaviour affected her. Now it might be too late. He might have lost her already. As he poured more wine into his glass, he felt very sorry for himself. What would he do without his work? How would he pay the bills? He had some funds but the cost of building the bloody house had wiped out a sizeable chunk of his savings. With only enough money to last about six months, he’d be forced to sell it. With the property market depressed, he’d lose a bundle.
Si caught himself; once again he hadn’t considered Tess. Would she carry on without him? Jealously burned deep inside him; he didn’t want his wife co-hosting with another man. Just the thought of her with someone else had him clenching his fists. He realised with alarming clarity, he didn’t want to lose Tess. She was his leveller, keeping him balanced, and somehow controlled the worst of his addictions. The first night apart and look what had happened? Si stared at his mobile morosely, wishing Tess would call. He was desperate to hear her voice. Desperate to feel her warm body against his but it remained silent. Si drank steadily. He knew the papers would have the full story in print by tomorrow. As time passed his thoughts slowed. A persistent ringing woke Si, he fumbled for his phone, it was Tess.
“Hello, Tess?” He could hear her crying. “I’m sorry, Tess,” he blurted.
“It h
urts, Si,” she mumbled.
“What hurts?” said Si confused.
“I’m bleeding. Hurry, Si, I can’t hold on much longer,” Tess whispered.
Si registered a shock of alarm. “Where are you, Tess?” He heard her gasp and moan. “Tess?”
“Harrison’s, hurry,” said Tess, and hung up.
Si was in complete panic. He rang Tess’s phone back but it went straight to answer machine. He rang Harrison’s, and they confirmed Tess had checked in, but when they rang her room there was no reply. Si was still drunk, he squinted at his watch, it was two a.m. He stood dithering. The last thing he needed was more publicity, but if Tess had harmed herself...tried to kill herself, then everyone would blame him. Si stopped, he couldn’t believe he’d just thought about himself first, before Tess. God, he really was disgusting. He should ring the hotel back and get someone to check on Tess, but chose instead to go to her. Searching for his car keys he knew he was over the limit but he didn’t have time to wait. This was a life and death situation; he’d risk it.
He half expected the press to be outside but his garden was empty. He slipped inside the Porche and started the engine. As he swung out of his drive way, he pressed hard on the accelerator. Tess’s voice haunted him, “I’m bleeding.” Images of her in the bath with her wrists slashed sprang to mind and he moaned. Her weakened voice telling him how much it hurt and to hurry, made his driving reckless as he headed to the private members’ club. He had pushed Tess to this. His thoughtless and selfish desires had caused his wife to take her life. Si didn’t think he could get much lower. Tess’s favourite phrase was playing through his head on a constant loop. “I can’t live without you.” She always smiled when she said it. He hadn’t told her he was leaving but Tess was smart...maybe she’d suspected the truth. The scenery outside flashed by in a blur as Si neared his destination. Seeing an available space he parked the car. His heart thumped as he went inside. The girl at reception was the same one he’d spoken to earlier. She gave him a key, accepting his story, he wanted to surprise his wife.
Si quickly went to the room and opened the door. It was dime inside but he saw Tess immediately. Her face was grey. She was clutching her stomach. Relief surged through him as he saw her wrists were uncut. She was okay until he registered she was in pain.
“Tess. What’s wrong, Tess?” he asked her urgently.
She turned her anguished eyes to meet his. Tears poured down her face. “I think I’m losing the baby,” she gasped.
He stared at her, confused. Baby? What baby? Tess wasn’t making sense.
“I’m pregnant, Si,” said Tess.
Si was rooted to the spot. Pregnant. Of all the scenarios he’d envisioned this was not among them. “Are you sure?” he asked doubtfully.
“Yes, Si. I need to get to the hospital. Something is wrong.”
“Okay.” He was suddenly calm. “Do you think you can walk?” he asked.
Tess shook her head; her face a mask of pain and misery. He moved to the bed and sat down. He stroked the sodden hair from her face. Her skin was clammy.
“I’m sorry, Tess,” he hung his head. “I’m sorry for everything.”
“Please,” she whispered. “The baby.” He rose and opened the room door. He pulled the sheet from her and lifted her in his arms. She was so light. So fragile.
Next he was walking down the corridor; hitching her up in his arms as he summoned the lift. Tess buried her face in his chest. He could hear her moans of pain. His heart lurched. Next the receptionist was running towards him. Others helped him put Tess in the car. A call was made to the hospital. They were expecting him. The journey and arrival were a blur. Tess was taken from him and now all he could do was wait, but at least she was safe. He felt people’s stares but ignored them. He tried to process this new turn of events. Fear and nausea gripped him. He could not speak to Tess about the newspapers. She’d been silent throughout the journey. Her eyes closed.
Tess was pregnant. The shock of discovery had been replaced by anxiety. Tess was convinced she was losing the baby. Si was numb—emotions in turmoil. A baby…he sat stunned. His baby. The media stories receded from his mind. Si’s feelings clarified. His wife had been pregnant and he’d put her through hell. His self-loathing made him want to claw at his own flesh.
“Mr Lawrence?”
Si looked up to see the doctor’s grim face and froze.
“Yes,” he whispered.
“You may see your wife now,” he said calmly. His expression neutral now but Si had saw his earlier look of disgust.
Gulping down his fear, he stood and followed him.
Chapter 47
The Braille Club Undone
The Braille Club, London. Two Years On. The Swingers Zone Trial. The sudden sound of the bell made them all jump. A collected moan of disappointment escaped them. Guy stood and slipped from the room.
Noor
Noor was so distracted with her father; she’d failed to consider the implications. Her past, again, had come back to haunt her. She’d been so happy over the last weeks with her father’s recovery and her blossoming romance—Maalik had slipped her mind. When she answered her phone and heard his voice, she realised what a fool she’d been. As she listened to his cruel words her face burned with shame. When he told her the wedding was off a crushing pain shot through her. She begged him to reconsider. Saying she’d do anything to make things right; the wrong thing to say to a man like Maalik. She knew immediately what he wanted but she wasn’t that type of girl anymore. Virinder’s love had changed her forever. She would always be grateful for that, no matter what happened. A few months ago the news would have broken her, but not now. She had no intention of speaking to or seeing Maalik but felt sure he would seek her out. Men like that always did.
How did Virinder feel? She had no way of knowing. Disappointment coursed through her. She had called him over and over with no response. History was repeating itself. Virinder was acting just as Ayran had. However, this time Noor would keep her dignity. She would not contact him again. The whole marriage had been a charade from the beginning, except along the way, Noor had fallen in love. She didn’t notice the tears sliding down her face. Virinder had been too good to be true. She knew that now. She didn’t want to be alone in the flat, in case Maalik paid her a visit, so left early to visit her father. He would miss Virinder terribly, and Noor’s heart tightened. She didn’t care what happened to her but her father was making progress. She worried Virinder's absence would set him back. Anxiety gnawed at her insides. What a mess, she thought in despair. Throughout the visit with her father he had asked about Virinder. He had not come to see him today and her father was worried he was ill.
His concern should have made Noor happy because taking an interest, showed he cared enough to be worried. Noor told him Virinder had to work and that he was sorry. Her father accepted this but still looked disappointed. Noor always switched her phone off when she visited her father and was surprised to see several missed calls, but none where from Virinder. She noticed she had a voicemail. With trepidation she listened.
Voicemail: Hello, Noor, it’s Virinder’s sister. Could you call me back, please?
God, Noor fumed, she’d got the message. Virinder didn’t need to involve his sister. Furiously, Noor deleted the other three voicemails and slipped her phone into her bag. The bus seemed to be taking longer than usual tonight and Noor slumped on the seat at the bus stop to wait. She saw the car moving slowly up the street and was surprised when it pulled up at the bus stop. A tall, elegant woman got out of the car.
“Noor?” she asked.
When Noor looked at her face she knew immediately something was terribly wrong.
Virinder
Virinder spent over two weeks in hospital. His father had broken his ribs and his lung had collapsed. He was lucky the ambulance arrived so quickly. He also had some internal bleeding but was healing well. His sister and Noor had been his constants. The events had been shocking for both of them to p
rocess. Virinder could barely come to terms with it himself. Neither of his parents survived the fall. His father had been crushed under his mother’s weight and she had broken her neck in the impact of the fall. The police had been baffled when they arrived on the scene. Slowly they pieced together what had happened. Virinder’s statement fully supported the evidence they found. He had been worried that the police would think he had pushed his parents, but they did not. He’d no idea his mother was home and in one of the upstairs rooms. She must have heard everything. Maalik’s cruel words would be etched on Virinder’s mind forever; his last memory of his mother...a sad one. Her face had been contorted in rage as she rushed towards his father. However, he had got his revenge when he’d pulled her with him. Ultimately, it had killed him. The post-mortem said he died from injuries consistent with crushing.
Virinder had tortured himself with what ifs. He blamed himself. If only his father hadn’t grabbed his mother, he’d be alive now. If only his mother hadn’t pushed his father, she’d be alive. On and on his thoughts whirled. It was Noor who kept him sane; her beauty and strength unwavering. An inquest would be held and Virinder knew he could get through it with Noor at his side. She told him Maalik had called her saying the wedding was off. Virinder sensed there was more but although he pressed her, she would not tell him. Grief for his parents consumed him. Somehow he got through their funerals, he had no choice. His sister was devastated and he supported her as much as he could. Everything had happened because of the marriage. Noor wanted to postpone but Virinder had been adamant.
“If we do that my father will win and my mother will have died in vain,” he said. Virinder had told Noor he and his father had argued over the wedding and how his father had hit him. Suddenly, his mother was there and the next thing they were both falling down the stairs. He didn’t tell her about the foul things his father had said and how he would never forgive him. There was no question of returning to his parent’s home and it was put up for sale. Virinder rented a flat until he could find a new home. Independent in his own right, he didn’t want or need his father’s money. He would have to deal with his parent’s estate but he had his sister, Zita, to help. They had become close. Although he had lost his parents, his bond with his sister and his upcoming wedding helped him heal. They were married in a quiet ceremony and Noor’s father did walk his daughter down the aisle.