by G J Morgan
“Sorry darling, I was mid-mouthful.” the lady said. “No one normally knocks at this time apart from the Jehovahs.”
“Oh sorry. I can come back in a while if it’s…”
“Don’t worry,” she said, pointing at her plate. “It’s only last night’s shepherd’s pie. What can I do you for you? A room?”
“No, I’m looking for someone actually.”
“Oh well, I’ll try to help.”
“Do you have a Tom Smyth staying here?”
“Do you mind me asking who you are, sweetheart? Y’know, guest confidentiality and all that.”
“I’m his friend Lilly.”
“Lilly?” her face beamed. “The Lilly? I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Really?”
“Oh lots. Nothing bad of course. I’m afraid he isn’t here. Been gone since the morning.”
“Did he say where he was going?”
“No, he never does. He was supposed to be ill. Went to go and check on him, but as per usual he disappeared. To be fair he’s never here. Uses this place like a bloody hotel he does.” she laughed. “Have you tried ringing him, dear?”
“I have. Think he might be ignoring me.”
“That doesn’t sound like Tom at all. Would you like me to try for you? See if I can get hold of him?”
“Yes please. If you don’t mind. That way I know if he’s ignoring everyone or just me.”
“It’s no bother. Take a seat,” she said, letting me inside, where I felt instantly warm. “I’ll grab my handbag and put my glasses on.”
I sat on the chair nearest to me, angled my legs so I didn’t trample on the dog. I stroked its head, ithe seemed to like it, started panting and sniffing, licking off the last of the chip salt and vinegar, as I tried to ignore its breath and spit.
“Right, here we go, found the bugger,” she said, holding her cell phone out in front of her like it was the first time she’d ever used one. “I’ve got his number on here somewhere I’m sure. Ah ha, got it.”
I watched her try to ring him, cell to her ear, the ringing tone, over and over.
“Looks like he’s ignoring the both of us,” I smiled.
“Phones aren’t the most reliable of equipment down this neck of the woods either, signal is pretty hit and miss, so I rarely use mine, as you can probably tell. Do you want me to leave a message for him behind my desk? I should be up a few more hours watching my soaps.”
“If you could. Tell him to ring Lilly as soon as he gets back. Or come see me. I’ll be at home.”
“Have you got anywhere you can go till then?”
“I’ll be OK. I can walk around for a bit, go to a pub.”
“Nonsense. Not in that weather.” She pointed outside to the dark and rain. “You’ll catch your death and I’ll be held accountable. I’ll get you a drink, hold out here till outside looks more agreeable. Never know, Tom might be back any minute. I’ve come to learn that rain always brings him home pretty quick.”
36
We pulled into the drive. Sally was already at the doorway, arms crossed, trying to look through my Jeep windows in search of a third person.
“Any calls your end?” Frank said from under his hood.
“I just got a message actually.” she said. “Quick, get in before you get soaked.”
“Why didn’t you ring me? What’s it say?”
“Says she is fine.”
“Is that it?”
“Better than nothing.”
“What about the Max situation?” I asked.
“Nada. If it’s him he’s keeping quiet. If it is him, just cos he’s the prime suspect doesn’t mean he’s guilty. I got takeout, few cold pizzas inside if you’re hungry.”
I wasn’t sure if the invitation was aimed at one or both of us.
“You got time for pizza, Tom?” Frank asked. “Feel privileged. Sally inviting paparazzi for supper is unheard of.”
“Could I use your phone? I need to ring home. My mum was in hospital today, better get the medical report.”
“Sure,” he said, as the three of us made our way inside. “Me and Sally will be in the kitchen. You can use the front room if you’d like a bit more privacy.” They went off towards pepperoni smells and I headed to a phone and a roaring fire.
* * *
“Hi, Mum. You OK?” I said, not sure why I was whispering.
“Still alive, yes.”
“Is Molly already in bed, I guess?”
“She’s staying next door tonight, remember?”
“I forgot. How did today go?”
“I’ve had better days, Tom, I’m not going to lie.”
“Anaesthetic isn’t nice.”
“No, that went fine. Ever so quick.”
“And what did they say?”
“Well, I’ve officially got cancer.”
I couldn’t speak.
“They say my lump is now a tumour. Grade 2.”
“Is that bad?”
“It’s not good, I know that much.”
I could tell she was crying, or trying not to cry.
“What happens now, Mum?”
“I’ve got an operation next week. Remove the lymph nodes, whatever they are.” She was sobbing. “I can’t stop bloody crying. What’s wrong with me?”
“Look, I’m gonna drive back tonight.”
“You don’t have to do that, Tom.”
“I should have never come back in the first place, Mum. I’ve been wrapped up in my little world down here. I’ve been selfish. I should be with you.”
I expected Mum to tell me not to, to tell me to stay like she always she did. But she didn’t, not this time.
“How long will you be?”
“By the time I get home you’ll probably be in bed.”
“Just come back as soon as you can.”
“I love you, Mum.”
“I love you too. See you soon. Bye.”
I went through to the kitchen. Frank was at the stool eating pizza straight from the box, Sally busy with her phone.
“Sure you don’t want any of this?” Frank pointing at the last few slices in front of him.
“Something’s come up. Gotta go straight home tonight.”
“Where’s home?”
“A long drive away.”
Frank looked pleased. “I know it’s hard now but it’s the right thing to do.”
Sally looked up from her phone. “You’ve gone all pale. You OK?”
“It’s been a hell of a day, that’s all. Not sure how much more I can take if you know what I mean.”
“Ditto on that,” she said, returning her attention back to her phone, walking off with it to her ear, leaving me just with Frank.
“Hope things work out for you, Tom. This is for the best.”
“Thanks, Frank.”
“Lilly will be fine, I assure you.” Getting off his stool. “I’ll make sure she is safe.”
“See you around, Frank. Good luck.”
“You too, friend.”
We shook hands, knowing it meant a whole lot more than just shaking hands.
37
“Feels like only yesterday he turned up. Tom and his other half,” she said, pouring more tea into her cup and into mine.
“Other half?” for a moment thinking she meant a woman.
“American fella. Nice on the eye. He was only here a few days.”
“Vince?”
“That was his name. Vince.”
“What was he like?”
“We barely spoke. He was on his phone mostly, he was nice enough, looked angry most of the time, a little rude and cocksure, but I’ve had ruder Americans. Sorry, I don’t mean to offend.”
“Tom doesn’t speak too highly of him either,” I said,
not meaning to talk with my mouth full. “Thank you for this by the way. Delicious.”
“You’re welcome. If I knew you were going to turn up I wouldn’t have cooked last night’s leftovers and I certainly wouldn’t have used effing gravy granules.”
“Don’t worry. I was raised with boxes or packets. Mac and cheese and minute tapioca. This is a luxury for me.” I took another mouthful of food, forgetting to chew, forgetting manners. “What time do you think Tom will be back?”
“It’s hard to say. He comes and goes. I’m normally in bed by the time he gets back.”
“I’ll stay here a little longer, if you don’t mind, that is. If he’s not back then, I’ll call it a night.”
“Stay as long as you need to. You have got somewhere to stay tonight I take it?”
“Yes. Well, no, sort of. It’s a bit complicated.”
“Well one thing this place isn’t short of is beds.”
“Oh no, don’t worry.”
“Do you want anything else to eat?” noticing my plate empty, cleaned bone dry.
“No, I’m fine, thank you.”
We both went quiet. For the first time, it felt a little awkward, we sipped our tea. Someone came through the door, past main reception. He was holding a camera, looked like paparazzi, felt my heart sink. He briefly looked across at us, Dot then me, I tried to look away. Don’t think he realized who I was, went off down the corridor, obviously wasn’t expecting celebrity, not on his front door, not on his own territory.
“You and Tom courting then, I assume?”
“Courting?”
“Sorry, I shouldn’t be asking such personal questions.”
“I don’t know what me and Tom are. It’s complicated.”
“A lot of things are complicated for you, aren’t they?” She laughed to herself. “It will be a shame to lose Tom. I’m going to miss that boy when he leaves me. He’s been a breath of fresh air, that one. But these things have to end, don’t they?”
“They do.”
Dot yawned, apologizing straight away.
“Would you like me to leave? I don’t mind. Think it’s fair to say wherever he is, he won’t be back soon.”
“Sorry, I would stay up with you but my alarm is set for 4am, hence why eight o’clock is deemed as a late night in this household. Be a shame for you to not see Tom though, seeing as you’ve made the effort to come all this way.”
“It can’t be helped.”
“I shouldn’t really do this, but I’m sure Tom wouldn’t mind just this once.”
“Mind what?”
“Do you want to sit in his room whilst you wait. Least that way you can put your feet up, watch a bit of telly. Can’t make you leave now. You’ll drown in that rain.”
“Are you sure he wouldn’t mind?”
“Can’t imagine he would. I can’t see the harm. Think it would be a nice surprise.” She stood up, picking up the tray of plates and cups. “Follow me and I’ll show you to his room.”
Walking behind her we made our way through a corridor, past door after door, rights, then lefts, the house was endless and, luckily for me, empty.
“Here we go. This is him.” Taking a big bunch of keys from her pocket.
“Are you sure he won’t mind? Don’t want him to feel like I’m invading his privacy.” I asked, realising how ridiculous that sounded knowing Tom’s occupation.
“Well if he moans, tell him to moan at me, not you,” Dot said as she opened the door. “If you need anything, just ring on the phone next to the bed. Press zero. Can’t promise I’ll answer, mind.”
“Thank you, Dot.”
“If you get bored you could always give the room a good going over. That boy is many things, but tidy isn’t one of them,” she said. “I’ll leave you to it, sweetheart.” She closed the door, leaving me stood in the middle of the room, not knowing quite what to do with myself.
I looked around me. Dot was right, the room was a mess, half packed, half on the floor. I stepped over a pair of jeans, over a pile of T-shirts, made some room for myself to sit on the edge of the bed. Picked up a book off his bedside table, it looked boring, 30 million copies sold, maybe I should read it seeing as I was one of the few who hadn’t. There was a little photo of Molly too, which was sweet. A diary which I could’ve easily flicked through and very nearly did.
Bored quickly, I walked around the room, investigated equipment, investigated my reflection in the mirror across the room. I filled the kettle, found a herbal tea bag, wandered the room as it boiled. There was a big folder titled LG, I had to assume it was about me. I looked inside, only quickly. More maps mostly, drawings of the farmhouse, lots of notes, photo after photo, press cuttings. It should have weirded me out, the level of intrusion, the sinister volume of detail, the homework of a serial killer. But this was just Tom’s job, or was his job.
I noticed a large envelope on the side, a little note stuck to the corner.
To Lilly. So you don’t forget. Tom X
I know I shouldn’t have, but I opened it, instantly I smiled, they were the photos I asked him to take for me, the ones I’d forgotten I’d even asked for. One of my garden, the little stream, the bridge, my lambs and sheep. One from far away, way up from the top of the road, must’ve been like a mile away, the farmhouse looked wonderful, all the fields and trees, the house and its big white walls and smoking chimneys. One of Burgh Island Hotel too, taken from the mainland, sat there on the island like a pearl. God knows when Tom had taken all these, of all the things he’d done behind my back, this was by far the cutest. I kept looking at them over and over, they were beautiful. Felt myself starting to cry, it hadn’t hit me just how much I was going to miss it here, the people, the person I’d become. How soon they would just be a memory, a picture on a wall, or in a photo album, made me both grateful and sad.
As I went to put the photos back I felt something else in the envelope, something stopping me sliding the photos in clean. I tipped the envelope upside down, out of it fell an airline ticket, London to LA.
It was then I heard keys rattle in the door. I had to stop myself jumping into his arms.
38
The drive back to my hotel was quick, gave me just enough time to plan my departure. This wasn’t how I wanted my last day to look, so quick and abrupt, I’d had plans to leave my room spotless, take Dot out for a nice walk on the beach, a long lunch, perhaps take one last drive around the place, soak it all up. But life didn’t always work out that way. I’d leave her a note I thought, give her the courtesy of a thank you at least, or ring her in a few days’ time, explain it all so she’d understand and wouldn’t take it personally, which I was sure she would.
My hand kept trembling, had to grip both hands on the steering wheel, focus on the road. Two words going through my head.
Cancer and death. Cancer and death.
The two inseparables and despite other words, like early days, more tests, curable, stage two, they all sound muted. You hear the word cancer, everything that comes after is white noise. Hopefully the drive home to Mum would sort my head out, allow me to become logical again. Didn’t want Mum to see me like this, rattled and scared, she needed hope on her doorstep, positivity, this wasn’t a time for despair. Any fear I had would have to be gone, left here, left on the Jeep, left on the motorway.
I parked the car, ran through puddles, ran past reception, the hotel was asleep, no Dot, no guests. I’d have to pack quickly but quietly. I took out my keys, opened my door expecting dark.
39
Somehow, I found my way back to my car, soaked and crying and cold, I stared out in front, the sound of rain on the windscreen. What before I thought quaint and charming, little tea rooms, little house and little windows, now it just looked somewhere that wasn’t home. I sat there, ten minutes, thirty minutes, long enough to get warm, find some energy, the thought of facing Frank
and Sally tonight made me contemplate Burgh Island again, get a good night’s sleep, face them tomorrow.
What stopped me I didn’t know. I needed them more than I feared them, that was all I knew.
“We’ve finally gone and done it, guys.” Frank’s head in the fridge. “We’ve finally run out of eggs. Nothing left but glass jars I’m afraid,” he said, putting jello on the table, as the two of us took it in turns to spread our toast.
“How you feeling? Get much sleep?” Sally’s mouth behind her coffee.
“Not bad considering.”
“You feel like talking about yesterday yet?”
“I suppose we have to at some point, don’t we?”
“Bit of a strange day, wasn’t it?”
“You could say that.”
It went quiet, eating, drinking.
“Did you know Frank and Tom are now blood brothers?”
“What? How?”
“We’re not best friends, Sally.” Frank coughing.
“How?” I asked, still a little freaked out.
“He knocked on the door. Sally answered it.” More coughing.
“Then what?”
“Sally let him in.”
“What did you say to him, Sal? You didn’t scare him off, did you?” looking at both of them.
“If you must know, he and Frank went looking for you.”
“Where did you look?”
Frank put down his newspaper. “Tom had a hunch you would be at Burgh Island.”
“Let me get this straight. You and Tom drove to Burgh Island and got the tractor across to the hotel.”
“We walked actually.”
“Then what happened?”
“You weren’t there so we left.”
“But I was there.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered. We weren’t allowed past the gate anyway.”
“Then what happened?”
“Not much. We drove back here and then he went home.”
“Did he seem OK? Was he angry?”
“He was a little angry. He said he had to ring his mom. He went straight after.”