by Ruth Jones
‘Yes.’ She was unashamed.
‘You’re unbelievable,’ he said, and he went outside to make the call.
As he closed the door behind him, Kate threw her Bucks Fizz at the wall, glass shattering everywhere, champagne dripping onto the cream carpet. And she fought back the tears.
Half an hour later, they were sitting in the back of the car, silent, each looking out of their own window.
Callum thought about Ailsa. He’d left a message on her mobile but hadn’t managed to speak to her. It was always so hit and miss communicating with her, and because Ailsa was the only one who would talk to him, it always hit him hard when he couldn’t get through.
He hated feeling so cut off from his family like this. Who was he trying to kid, living so far away? Cory hadn’t spoken to him since he’d left, and Ben still refused to take his calls ever since the visit to London. The whole thing was a mess.
He looked over at Kate, lost in her own world, hurting, no doubt, from this morning’s row. She’d looked so shaken up when he’d gone back inside and hadn’t spoken a word to him since. He’d messed her life up too, really. He should have walked away all those years ago, not given in to his bloody ego. Kate could’ve been quite happy now, he thought, with Matt, and little Tallulah. Not sat in the back of a car on her way to do a TV interview with a man she didn’t really know, just thought she knew, just thought she loved. He felt such compassion for her in that moment that he reached out and took her hand.
At first, she wouldn’t look at him, wiping away her angry tears.
‘Come on, sweetheart, this is mad,’ he said quietly, conscious the driver could hear every word. ‘We can’t go on live television not speaking to each other!’
She sniffed sadly. ‘I’m scared, Callum.’
‘Of what?’ He genuinely didn’t know.
‘Scared that you’re gonna go back to her.’
The chances of that were non-existent. He knew that, but for some reason he didn’t dispute it, gave her no words of reassurance, so Kate carried on. ‘You still love her, don’t you?’
He paused. ‘It doesn’t … y’know, just … stop.’
‘Fucking brilliant.’ And she snatched her hand away.
‘But I chose you, didn’t I?’ He tried to touch her again, but she hissed at him, not caring whether the driver heard them or not. ‘DON’T!’
‘Jesus, Kate, you’re doing my head in.’
They’d arrived at the London Studios now, and the driver, eager to be rid of them and their embarrassing argument, interrupted them chirpily. ‘Here you go! You need to walk down to that security door at the end.’
‘Thanks,’ Kate snapped, and jumped out of the car.
She was immediately besieged by a group of five autograph hunters. ‘Miss Andrews, will you sign? Will you sign?’
And without her usual care for professional decorum, she turned on them and yelled, ‘OH FUCK OFF, YOU BUNCH OF WEIRDOS!’
A bored-looking photographer loitering nearby had just had his day made, catching the whole exchange with his camera, but Kate ignored him and carried on towards the gate.
Callum caught up with her. ‘Kate!’
‘It’s been a life sentence,’ she hissed. ‘I had to stop myself thinking about you every single day, I had to DELETE you from inside my head …’
‘Keep your voice down, for Christ’s sake!’
‘And the only thing that distracted me was work. Couldn’t stand still for a second. Had to keep it turning over. Had to be successful. Had to earn money, because it stopped me from falling …’
‘Seriously, you’ve got to lower the volume.’
They were approaching the security gate when she turned and whispered, ‘If you leave me again, I will die!’
‘Don’t be so fucking melodramatic, Kate!’ He was getting angry now, anger born out of fear.
Suddenly she stopped, her mind racing, weighing up whether or not to say it. And then she did.
‘I didn’t go through with it, Callum.’
He stared at her, confused.
‘The abortion. I didn’t go through with it.’
And she paused to take in his reaction.
‘What?’
‘I had the baby. All those years ago – our baby.’
He could see desperation seizing her with a feverish grip. ‘Kate. Stop this.’ He grabbed her firmly by the shoulders. ‘Look at me. You need to calm down.’
‘I had him and I called him Luca and I had him adopted because I couldn’t— He was beautiful, Cal.’ There was a wildness in her eyes that terrified him, made more disturbing when she suddenly softened, smiling as if expecting him to congratulate her or fill up with tears of joy.
‘OK, listen, I don’t think you’re very well, sweetheart. This is … you’re delusional, OK? You’ve been working really hard these past few weeks and—’
‘You don’t believe me, do you?’
He didn’t. But he didn’t want to upset her further.
‘Kate, I think you just need to rest—’
She gasped. Incredulous. Before slapping him hard across the face.
‘Well, fuck you then!’ she said, and turned on her heel.
He followed close behind, deeply disturbed by the desperate and psychotic measures she was willing to take.
The security guard pretended he hadn’t noticed the row. In all fairness, this wasn’t the first domestic between guests he’d witnessed outside the gate. And the paparazzo photographer thirty metres behind them thought all his Christmases had come at once – clickety-clickety-clickety-click.
87
Ailsa had left Tom’s house in plenty of time. She wanted to get to school forty-five minutes before the exam started. Just so she could be ultra-ready. She was gonna smash it, she could feel it in her bones.
At the end of Tom’s road, she felt her phone vibrate. That’d be Dad again. She’d seen a missed call from him already that morning, but she wanted to keep her head clear. Talking to Dad always made her sad, and she couldn’t be sad before this exam.
She’d followed all the correct procedures: checked her mirrors, indicated and slowed down.
But still she didn’t see it coming.
It was a clean hit.
Smack.
Thud.
Crunch.
And the wheels of the upturned moped spun slower and slower until they finally gave up the ghost.
Silence.
Then someone started screaming.
88
‘Who says New Year’s resolutions have to start in the new year?’
Belinda was laughing on the phone to Sue, holding it to her ear as she carried a large plastic crate, covered in dust, through to the living room. She was clearing out the attic, one of the items on her to-do list. She’d promised herself that once the divorce had come through she’d make a start – and she’d taken the day off work to do it.
‘Why do we save things like boxes that once contained hair-dryers or radios or Moulinex mixers? Christ, some of this stuff must go back to the late seventies!’
‘Don’t chuck it out, Lind, it might be worth a fortune!’
‘Oh, great help you are.’ Suddenly she stopped laughing. ‘Bloody hell.’ On the TV she’d just seen a trailer for the forthcoming Maggie Lane Show on ITV, and a photo of Kate bumping noses with Callum, taken at the BAFTAs the night before. On screen it said, ‘Next: Kate Andrews and her new man.’
‘Lind? Belinda? You still there?’
‘Turn your telly on, Sue. ITV. And stay on the line.’
89
Once Carla the make-up artist had finished brushing his hair, Callum ruffled it up again. Kate, who was sat in the make-up chair next to him having her lips painted, rolled her eyes at him.
Carla smiled, she was used to this. ‘I’m just gonna take a bit of shine off, sweetie, OK?’ And before Callum could work out what was going on, she dived in with her powder brush, gently dabbing his face.
‘What you doing?
’ he shouted.
‘Making you less shiny, sweetie!’
‘Christ, Callum, let the woman do her job, will you?’
An over-enthusiastic runner came in, headset and clipboard his badges of honour. ‘OK, we’re ready for you now!’ he said, too loudly.
Kate got out of her chair, smiling sweetly at the make-up girls. ‘Thanks, ladies!’ Then, dropping the smile, she hissed at Callum, ‘Let’s get this over with.’
90
‘This is torture,’ Belinda said. ‘I should really just switch it off, shouldn’t I?’
‘Don’t you dare!’ said Sue, on the other end of the phone.
‘It feels a bit … voyeuristic.’
‘The man’s on TV, Belinda! About to make an arse of himself, no doubt. It’s not like you’re spying on him through a peephole. Oh, here we go, here we go!’
Five miles away, the ambulance had arrived and the paramedics were gently loading Ailsa onto the gurney. A policeman at the scene was going through the contacts on her phone. He found ‘home’ and pressed call.
The line was engaged.
91
The brightly lit studio looked much bigger on TV than it did in actuality and Callum felt too tall and cumbersome, nearly tripping over some of the camera cables as he was shown to his seat. The studio manager, Harry, smiled at him whilst simultaneously motioning to him to stay quiet. The commercial break was just coming to an end, and the up-tempo sting that started every segment of the show blared out of the studio speaker as Harry counted in the host, Maggie Lane.
‘Back in five, four, three,’ he shouted, then mimed, ‘two, one,’ followed by a huge hand signal to Maggie.
‘Welcome back!’ she said in bright notes that blended in with the fake jollity of the show. ‘Now my next guest won a BAFTA last night for best actress and the tabloids have been singing her praises. But they’ve not always been so kind, and she’s been the subject of some intense media controversy lately with the press dining out on her highly publicized affair. Here to put the record straight is actress Kate Andrews and her partner, schoolteacher Callum MacGregor. Hey, congratulations on the BAFTA! Did you bring it with you?’
Kate laughed. ‘Er, no, it’s that heavy you’d need a crane to lift it out of the house!’
Maggie smiled manically, simultaneously listening to her producer in her earpiece saying, ‘Get to the affair, ask about the affair.’
‘So you’ve been in the headlines a fair bit recently – your private life, as in your affair, became very much public property. How on earth have you coped?’
Kate, despite her hangover and earlier upset, was expecting the question and knew how to handle it with professional expertise. ‘The thing is, Maggie, affairs are tricky things – even though lots of people have them! And I think you have to know one hundred per cent that you’ve made the right decision. And when you have that confidence in your decision, you can take whatever blows life deals you.’
The camera focused on Callum, who sat there frozen like the proverbial headlight-blinded rabbit. Kate carried on, ignoring the fact that he was making them both look really stupid. ‘I never had any doubts that Callum was the One,’ she said in all seriousness. ‘I still don’t have any doubts.’
92
Belinda was sitting on the edge of the sofa, glued to the TV set, Sue still on the phone. Both in complete disbelief at what they were seeing.
‘He looks absolutely terrified, Lind! I mean, if I wasn’t so angry with the guy, I’d actually feel sorry for him!’
‘I know. What was he thinking, agreeing to do this? Oh my God!’
The two women were silent as they watched events unfold in front of them, Belinda accustomizing herself to seeing the husband she’d not laid eyes on for over four months. He looks tired, she thought.
Suddenly the theme from Rocky could be heard, distant and muted. Callum’s mobile phone was ringing. But rather than ignore it, he took it out of his pocket and looked at the screen.
‘Hey, who’s that? Your ex-wife?’ the presenter joked, slightly embarrassed by Callum’s lack of awareness when it came to live-television etiquette.
Kate turned to him, still smiling but clearly serious. ‘You’re not actually going to answer that, are you?’
It said Ailsa was calling. He answered: ‘Hi, can I call you back?’
‘Callum, you idiot!’ Belinda shouted at the telly, partly delighted, partly cringing, partly defensive, despising Kate for what she’d turned this once lovely man into.
The TV host was going with the flow, treating it like some kind of comedy act, watching as Callum listened, his face turning ashen. ‘Maybe it’s someone trying to sell him double glazing!’ she joked with Kate, whose inner fury was well disguised by her outward charm.
Suddenly, Callum stood up. He looked dazed, stammering, ‘I’ve got to go.’
‘Callum. Sit down!’ Kate said quickly.
‘It’s Ailsa …’ And with that he just walked off the set; his radio mike lead, refusing to follow, stretching behind him until it snapped.
Quick to cover the embarrassment that sometimes came with the territory where live TV was concerned, Maggie Lane announced it was competition time!
Belinda dropped the receiver. Sue was still on the other end, shouting, ‘Lind? What’s going on? You OK?’
She reached for her mobile, lying switched off in her handbag, her hands shaking with fear. It took what seemed like an age to come to life. She finally opened her contacts, searched for his name, then pressed ‘Callum’.
It rang once.
His voice was small and quiet. ‘Ailsa’s been in an accident.’
93
It was the same driver who had brought them there that morning. He didn’t speak. He didn’t dare. He’d seen the other half leave ten minutes before and hail a cab. God knows what’s been kicking off there, he thought.
Once she was settled in the back, Kate tried calling Callum. It rang, he didn’t answer. All she wanted to know was what was going on. She tried again. Nothing.
‘Fuck this,’ she mumbled to herself, and looked out of the window at London’s South Bank coming to life in the mid-morning sunshine. Tourists taking photos, cabbies stopping for fares, street performers putting on a tireless display of tricks. Happy-happy. And inside she just wanted to die.
It was over.
She’d known it for a long time really, but had tried not to admit it to herself. There’d been an air of resignation about Callum pretty much since the night they’d been discovered in the Edinburgh hotel. She wondered whether he’d not so much chosen her over Belinda as surrendered to the inevitable: knowing that he had no other option. Because there was no way Belinda would take him back a second time. So where else could he go? She might be wrong, of course – maybe it was just the excruciating guilt that made it impossible for him to let go of his old life and embrace the new. A life that shrouded his days in sorrow. He’d never said so, of course. He’d have known it would be pointless.
She shivered at the thought that her theory might actually be true. And she felt herself sinking into the quicksand of despair, unable to resist being swallowed up by overwhelming humiliation and failure and utter self-loathing.
‘Can you pull over to that shop, please? I won’t be a minute.’
It was a mini-mart. She went straight to the counter and asked for forty Marlboro Lights and two litre bottles of gin.
94
He’d only had to wait half an hour for the train. Thankfully, it was quiet. He sat himself down in a corner and stared out of the window, willing the four-and-a-half-hour journey to fly.
The phone rang several times: mostly Kate. But he just couldn’t face speaking to her right now. Couldn’t face thinking about their relationship and the mess of what had happened that morning.
He sent her a text – Ailsa been in accident. Am on way to Edinburgh. Will call. Sorry Kate. He didn’t put any kisses, no frills or tenderness. He just couldn’t think about her at the m
oment.
All he wanted was to see his little girl and be told that she was alright. He shut his eyes, praying for the journey to be over, making a deal with God – I’ll do anything. Anything. Just please make it be OK. He remembered once before when he’d made a deal like that. And he’d not kept his side of the bargain. Maybe this was God paying him back.
When he arrived at Edinburgh General, he was sent to the Critical Injuries department, where a very kind receptionist told him there was no news, but if he’d like to take a seat in the family room, someone would be along shortly with more information.
It was only a short walk. He opened the door. Belinda stood with her back to him, staring out of the window. She turned around. They looked at each other. And the most natural thing in the world was to draw close and hug. Which they did, without saying a word. The mother held onto the father, who held onto the mother, of the daughter who was lying ninety feet away, holding onto her life by a thread.
It wasn’t until the doctor came in five minutes later that they finally separated.
‘Mr and Mrs MacGregor?’
‘Yes?’ they both answered, and Belinda grabbed Callum’s hand, holding it so tight it hurt, waiting to hear the worst.
‘I’m Doctor Anderson. Your daughter’s not very well at all, I’m afraid.’
‘Oh God.’
‘But she is improving. Slowly. Come with me and we’ll go and see her.’ He turned and they followed. Belinda realized she was still holding Callum’s hand and she pulled it away quickly.
95
It had been a combination of things. Hetty had seen the disastrous interview on The Maggie Lane Show and told Matt about it. Matt was already worried about Kate, but when Kate’s mother called him, alarm bells started ringing. Yvonne said she’d heard on the local news about Callum MacGregor’s daughter being involved in a moped accident. It was touch and go as to whether she’d survive. Callum had been seen at the hospital with his ex-wife, and Yvonne had been trying to get through to Kate for two days now, but no joy. Did Matt think she was alright?