Would I Lie to You?

by Aliya Ali-Afzal

  ‘Listen, you know these things happen. You all have friends whose parents are divorced—’ said Tom.

  ‘Divorced?’ exclaimed Ahmed, and Alex started to cry. Sofia took his hand and pulled him towards her, hugging him.

  ‘Stop it, Tom!’ I was furious, and I could see that he was now regretting telling the truth.

  ‘No one has said anything about divorce,’ he said, trying to backtrack.

  ‘It’s OK, my darlings, it’s going to be OK,’ I said. ‘We wanted to tell you what was going on. I know it’s upsetting – Dad and I are upset too – but we love you…’

  ‘Say sorry, make friends, be happy, Daddy!’ said Alex, his tiny voice wobbling, as he repeated the phrase I always said when the children got into spats.

  ‘But you and Mum are always saying how much “in love” you are,’ said Sofia. ‘You’re happier than all my friends’ parents. What’s happened?’

  I had never wanted the children to see any discord between us, always protecting them from any arguments or disagreements in our marriage. But my pretence of perfection had left them unprepared for any kind of reality, especially the reality of their parents’ marriage collapsing seemingly overnight. I couldn’t stop my tears any more. Ahmed came to sit next to me and put his arm around me.

  ‘Have you found someone else? Like Emma’s Dad?’ Sofia glared at Tom.

  ‘No, Dad hasn’t done anything wrong. I-I…’ I said, trying to stop my tears by pressing the tips of my fingers onto my eyelids.

  ‘So, it’s your fault then!’ Sofia was shouting now and Tom went up to her.

  ‘It’s not anyone’s fault. I’m so sorry, so is Mum. We never wanted this to happen. We just want to be honest and tell you what’s going on. It’s for the best.’

  He touched her arm and she shrugged him off.

  ‘Why’s Mum crying then? I’ve had enough of this! Come on, Ahmed, let’s go.’

  She took Alex’s hand and Ahmed followed her as they all went upstairs and then her door banged shut.

  I sat down in the kitchen, too numb to cry any more, as Tom went upstairs. I heard muffled voices as he opened Sofia’s door. He must have been saying goodbye to the children. Then I heard him walking down the stairs. He left without saying anything to me.

  *

  I was grateful for the frantic start of Monday morning, but it suddenly felt overwhelming to do it all by myself. Even though the morning routine had been mine to manage alone for eighteen years, I had become used to Tom finding Alex’s reading book or last-minute pound coins for ‘wear your own clothes’ days. I looked forward to having breakfast with Tom and our little chats, the quick kiss before I rushed off to work. As I drank my coffee, I noticed Ahmed watching me. His eyes were assessing me, as if trying to gauge what he should be feeling by the expression on my face. I smiled, and he smiled back. I couldn’t fall apart in front of them.

  All through breakfast, I was worried about going to the office. Harry would be waiting for me. I thought about all the times I had been alone in his office with the door shut, the late nights when the others had all gone home. He could have attacked me any time – and now that he had crossed that line, what if he grabbed me again? Stripped away of his Savile Row suit and the charm he wore like a disguise, I had seen him for what he was: a thug.

  Eighty

  I felt my body tense as I got closer to my office.

  Sergio and the Dragon were their usual selves when they met me; as far as I could tell, Harry hadn’t said anything to them yet.

  It wasn’t long before Harry emailed, asking me to take a report into his office. I knew I couldn’t avoid him. I had planned what to do. I would leave his door open and stand nearer to the door than to him so he couldn’t do anything to me. Still, I had to force myself to walk over to him.

  He was sitting behind his desk, but he started to get up.

  ‘Please stay where you are,’ I said.

  ‘Why are you being like this? I won’t bite. Not unless you want me to.’

  That smile spread across his face, the smile of a tormentor. I wanted to fly across the room and hit him, but I kept my face composed and lifted my chin slightly, not moving my eyes away from his, not letting him see my fear. I couldn’t stop shaking, though, and I saw his eyes gloat when he noticed.

  ‘Tom knows everything, so you can’t threaten me with telling him,’ I said, keeping my voice steady. ‘And I’ve returned your money so you can’t say I blackmailed you. It’s really quite pathetic that you have to go to such lengths to get someone to sleep with you.’

  I hoped my face showed my disgust.

  ‘Not with someone – with you. And you will sleep with me if you want to keep this job, and if you want to have any job in the City in future. Otherwise, I’ll tell Sergio that you gave me confidential information on your client and then blackmailed me. I’ll say you returned the money when I threatened to expose you.’

  I changed my tack.

  ‘Harry, this isn’t just about me. You have children. This will destroy my family too. I’ve worked so hard and I’m about to get my bonus. Please don’t tell Sergio these lies.’

  His eyes settled on my breasts. I felt my anger growing. My voice grew colder, as I continued.

  ‘If you do, I’ll tell Sergio you attacked me in the car! Haven’t you heard about sexual harassment? Or Me Too? You can’t get away with this kind of behaviour. It’s a crime.’

  ‘Who says I did anything to you? You can’t prove it and Sergio will believe whatever I tell him. If you love your family so much, you know what you have to do. I’m flying to Stockholm today but when I get back, we can take up where we left off in New York. Stop acting so outraged, Fi. You know you’ll have a very good time.’

  I turned and fled, rushing towards the loos. I locked myself inside the cubicle. My heart thumped through me and my hands shook as I took out my phone and pressed the white playback icon. There was silence and then some scratching sounds. My phone had been in my pocket. I couldn’t have risked Harry seeing the record button flashing on the screen. Every passing second felt like it held my entire future. Then, there it was. Harry’s voice pouring out like slime through the speakers. It had worked. Harry’s threats were now on my phone.

  I sat down on the toilet lid, my relief making me ice cold then hot. I emailed the file to myself straight away, so I wouldn’t delete it by mistake. I listened again, to make sure it had gone through.

  I decided not to give it to Sergio yet. Harry might still try to wriggle out of it if Sergio confronted him with my accusations and it could mess up my chances of keeping my job. The directors might see me as a problem, even if it went to HR. I just needed to get my bonus and an offer letter, then I could get another job.

  If he threatened me again, though, I would tell the directors that I would sue for sexual harassment unless they fired Harry. I could use the recording as proof. It had to be the last resort, though.

  Eighty-One

  Tom had texted to say that if I was OK with it, he would carry on picking the children up from school, giving them dinner and leaving before I got back from work.

  The evenings without Tom were unbearable, especially as I knew he’d been in the house just moments earlier. I saw traces of his presence everywhere – his mug on the draining board, the lunch boxes and dinner plates he’d stacked in the dishwasher, his shape in the sofa cushion. I chased his aftershave all over the house.

  In bed, I turned my back on Tom’s empty side. One night at 2 a.m., unable to sleep, I texted him: Come back. Please. Give me another chance. He didn’t reply. There wasn’t even a blue tick that he’d read my text.

  Harry was back from Stockholm. It was the day of the agreement signing with the GlobalCorp CEO, and as I was leading the meeting, I couldn’t stay home. Since all the directors would be at the meeting, I hoped I could avoid being alone with Harry.

  I had planned to wear a pale-pink, closely-fitted dress for the meeting, but when I thought about Harry watching me,
I put on a navy skirt suit with a loose jacket and buttoned my white shirt high. Afterwards, Sergio pulled me aside to congratulate me. He joked about my outfit, saying he’d never seen me looking so prim, but that I could wear whatever I wanted, now that I’d signed such a huge client. He said that I would get my job offer and bonus email in a couple of days.

  The Dragon wanted photographs with the clients for a ‘wall of success’ she was putting up in the lobby, and we all lined up in front of the HH logo as the receptionist took the photos. I could do nothing when Harry came and stood next to me, shuffling closer as if to make room for the others, until the side of his body was touching mine. I felt myself sweating and moved away as soon as I could.

  Later, we took the clients to dinner at City Social, where the CEO toasted me and Sergio looked on like an indulgent parent. I should have been feeling excited; instead, I was on edge as Harry stared at me all evening.

  When I stood up to leave, Harry also got up.

  ‘Let me give you a lift,’ he said. ‘Fi and I are neighbours – in fact, our children go to the same school.’

  There were murmurs of surprise and smiles. I forced myself to smile too.

  ‘No thank you. My husband’s picking me up.’

  I rushed out of the building, not sure where to go, afraid that Harry would come after me. I ran towards the tube station, down the steps at Bank, through the ticket barriers, and down the travelator. The Waterloo and City line train didn’t move for two minutes and the tube doors stayed open. I stood with my back pressed against the end of the carriage in case Harry had worked out where I’d gone and came to find me. When the doors closed with a sigh, I collapsed on the nearest seat.

  When I reached Wimbledon, I got a text from Harry.

  See you on Monday. I’ve booked a very nice hotel. I’ve told Ivan that we have a meeting so you won’t be back for the rest of the day. Have a good weekend.

  In bed, I kept staring at the text. I thought about sending Harry the recording to warn him off, but what if that gave him time to think up some excuse?

  I called Sam.

  ‘Is everything OK? It’s so late.’

  ‘No, I’m so scared, Sam. Harry’s booked a room at a hotel for Monday. He wants me to sleep with him or he’s going to tell Sergio about the info I gave him. I don’t know what to do.’

  Although it was a relief to tell Sam, to tell anyone what was happening, I knew she couldn’t help me. No one could. Even if Sergio believed that Harry had attacked me, he might still believe that I’d given Harry the information to blackmail him. They might report me to the police. At the very least, Sergio would think me incompetent for not knowing about the Chinese Wall and I could lose my job. I started to cry.

  ‘What does Tom say?’

  ‘Tom’s left me. He doesn’t know any of this.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me? Where is he? When did this happen?’

  ‘The day after the party. I couldn’t tell you, Sam. I haven’t told anyone. I kept thinking that he was just angry and hoping he’d come back. But it’s been over a week. He’s taken his clothes and he won’t even answer my texts.’

  ‘Does he know that Harry attacked you and is harassing you?’ said Sam.

  ‘No. I was afraid he might beat Harry up and report him to the police, and that Harry would say I’d slept with him in New York.’

  ‘Well, you can’t go to the office with Harry there, not when he’s threatening you,’ said Sam.

  ‘I have no choice. We’re penniless, Sam. I should be getting my bonus in a couple of days so I just need to stall him till then. We need that money. I just don’t know what to do about Monday.’

  She was silent.

  ‘Today was so awful. He stood with his body touching mine when we were posing for a photo, then he tried to get me in his car. I’m so scared of him. Even if I don’t go to the hotel, I think he might attack me again.’

  ‘He’s dangerous, Faiza.’

  ‘But I can’t lose this job! If I say anything to the directors, you know whose side they’ll take. Oh, listen to this…’

  I played the recording for her.

  ‘This is very good. Play it for your boss on Monday.’

  ‘No, I need to wait till my permanent contract’s signed.’

  ‘OK, but please be very careful – and tell Tom what’s going on. I can’t believe what you’ve been through. I’m sorry I didn’t check in on you, but James…’

  ‘How is he? Was he OK after the party?’ I said.

  ‘Yes, yes, don’t worry about him. Try to get some sleep now, OK?’

  I went downstairs to make sure that the front and back doors were locked and no windows had been left open or unlocked. I sat up in bed trying to read, but the words ran away from me. I turned off the light and was staring at the ceiling, thinking about Monday, when I heard a noise in the hall. Someone was in the house! I sat up in bed, thinking about the boys across the landing, and grabbed my phone.

  Then I heard Tom’s voice downstairs.

  ‘Faiza, it’s me.’

  Eighty-Two

  I ran downstairs, forgetting everything else. Tom had come back!

  He had switched on the hallway light.

  ‘Sam called me – why didn’t you tell me?’

  He put his hands on my arms, looking at my face. I wanted to lean into him but he made no attempt to move closer.

  ‘What did he do to you?’ Tom’s mouth was set in a hard line. There was several days’ stubble on his chin and dark shadows under his eyes. I could feel the tears on my face.

  ‘Don’t cry. Come.’

  He placed his hand on my back and guided me to the TV room. I wanted to reach for his hand, to throw myself against him, but there was something about the careful way he stood apart that stopped me.

  ‘Are you all right? Did he hurt you?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘Tell me what happened, all of it.’ He spoke gently, as if aware that even the tone of his voice might hurt me.

  I tried to zone out as I replied, telling him the facts, like the placement of Harry’s hand in the car, and quoted his threats, then told him what had happened at the office and the text about the hotel. I knew that Tom would be devastated too, to hear it all, so I didn’t say how I had felt, and tried to speak calmly.

  He nodded as I spoke, not showing any emotion either, but I saw the tightening of his jaw and his eyebrows frowning. He took both my hands in his, rubbing them, as if trying to restart my circulation.

  ‘We need to report him to the police, Faiza. If I ever get my hands on him…! I’m so sorry this happened to you.’

  Then he led me upstairs, saying, ‘We’ll sort this out, OK?’

  He got into bed with me, and Harry and his threats tipped out of my mind. Tom still loved me. He had forgiven me.

  I shuffled closer to him and he put his arm around me.

  ‘Tom, I’m so sorry about everything.’

  ‘Go to sleep, it’s late.’

  He kept holding me but though his touch was firm and protective, it was not tender or loving. It didn’t feel the same as it had before. He didn’t kiss me.

  *

  When my eyes snapped open the next morning, Tom was sitting up against the headboard. He started speaking before I could say anything.

  ‘I should have been here for you,’ he said.

  ‘It’s not your fault. I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you about Harry. Not after everything else that I’d done.’

  ‘I’m not just talking about Harry. I’ve been thinking about it all over the last few days. I should have been here for you all these months when you were worried about the money, when you were too afraid to tell me, when you got into so much trouble. You should have been able to talk to me. I should have noticed that something was wrong.’

  ‘It’s not your fault. I’m just good at hiding things.’

  ‘You shouldn’t have needed to hide things from me. I’m sorry.’

  I was about t
o lay my head on his shoulder but he got out of bed and went to stand near the window. He stared out and shook his head.

  ‘When I think about what you must have gone through. Forcing yourself to go into work, knowing he was there. You must have been terrified. I know you were doing it for the family. I can never forgive myself that you couldn’t tell me what you were going through.’

  I leapt out of bed and took his hand.

  ‘I just wanted to put everything right,’ I said.

  He squeezed my hand. ‘I know.’

  ‘The worst thing out of all of this was when you left. I can’t be without you, Tom. Are we OK?’ I said.

  He didn’t reply.

  Things didn’t improve between us as the weekend went on. I told myself to be patient. It was like a cut that needed time to heal before we could brush against it and I hoped that it was not too late for us. Even though he was back, everything felt fragile.

  Eighty-Three

  That night we slept at different ends of the bed and when I woke up on Sunday morning he wasn’t there. I wondered how long this would go on, and when he would forgive me. He didn’t seem angry though. It was more as if he wasn’t even willing to try to get back to where we were before it all went wrong. It felt as if he had given up on us. I got dressed quickly, thinking about how I could flip him out of this mood.

  When I went down, he was having breakfast with the children and cutting Alex’s egg on toast into small squares.

  We had told the children that Tom was back and we were no longer angry with each other. All three had nodded and Alex had jumped into the air and said, ‘Yay!’ They could tell that things were not back to normal though,

  ‘Family dinner tonight,’ said Tom. ‘You too, Sofia! I’m going to make my famous leg of lamb extravaganza.’

  ‘Yesss!’ Ahmed and Sofia high-fived and Alex pretended to faint in his chair, while shouting, ‘Yum!’

  I smiled. This was a good sign.

  ‘Can I help? Sous chef reporting for duty!’