I Invited Her In

by Adele Parks

  ‘Not visiting. His room has been emptied.’

  ‘Emptied?’

  ‘Nearly all his clothes, his college books, his laptop. I suppose he must have moved in with her. In the hotel.’

  Ben sighed. ‘Right, well, it’s not completely unexpected, is it? Have you called him?’

  ‘Yes, and texted several times. He hasn’t responded.’

  ‘Have you called her?’

  ‘Oh Ben, I don’t want to.’

  ‘You might have to.’ Ben believed the important thing was keeping a relationship with Liam and that might mean accepting Abi; Mel was light years away from agreeing to that.

  ‘I have called Tanya.’

  ‘Tanya? Why?’

  ‘I thought he might be there.’

  Ben sighed again. It was unlike Mel to fight the facts, fight reality in this way. He’d always thought she was quite a rational, practical person. ‘You’re grasping at straws.’

  ‘She’s coming over.’

  ‘Why? How will that help?’

  ‘I don’t know but I need to see her. I need to see someone who finds this situation as hard as I do.’

  His wife hung up.

  39

  Tanya

  Liam’s mum called me today, finally. I’d thought she might have called me before now. I mean, I thought we were quite close – in fact I thought that all the Harrisons liked me, not just Liam. But I guess I was wrong about that too because she hadn’t been in touch once in these past weeks. I wanted to hear from her because I thought maybe she’d have some idea as to what is really going on with Liam. I do not buy his crap about exam pressure, concentrating on his grades and it being best to end it now because long-distance relationships never work and I didn’t get into the RVC in London.

  My friends just think he’s being a dick, they keep saying I can do better and I should just move on and not think about him anymore. But that’s ridiculous, insane, because for one, when I was going out with him, they all loved him. They were always going on about how hot and yet considerate he was. Called me a lucky bitch. And for two, I just can’t. I mean people say put him out of your mind, but how? He is all I think about.

  I know what I’m supposed to do. I’m supposed to act all bright and bubbly, busy, unconcerned. But I can’t. I keep going over and over our last few times together and trying to work out what went wrong, what I did wrong. But I don’t know. I just don’t know. I asked him but he shrugged, kept to his story about the impossibility of long-distance relationships, the unfeasibility of us managing to sustain what we currently had. Those didn’t sound like his words. I wondered if his mum had come up with the excuse for him or something. It sounded like an adult’s excuse. Something a parent might say. It sounded rehearsed.

  So, my friends, who used to say he was cute, and built, and sweet, are now saying he’s a total emotional retard as he’s unable to give me a proper, truthful explanation as to why he finished us after nine months. They all think he’s met someone else because ninety-nine times out of a hundred that is what happens. But no way do I believe that.

  I’m thinking he’s having a breakdown, like maybe A-levels are too much work. Not that he’s been doing much work – he’s been skipping college, which is so not like him, but maybe that’s just to avoid me. I don’t know. He isn’t seeing much of his other friends either, I asked around.

  I miss him. I love him. I hate him, too.

  When Liam’s mum called, I could tell immediately something was very wrong. She wanted to know if Liam was round at mine, like as if, or if I’d seen him at all today. I guess she’s finally caught onto the fact he’s bagging college a lot now.

  ‘I didn’t see him in maths.’

  ‘Could you have missed him?’

  ‘There are only eight of us in the group.’ I looked for him at lunch too but there’s no way I’m going to admit to that and sound desperate.

  ‘Oh God.’

  ‘What is it, Mrs Harrison?’ She was always telling me to call her Mel, but I never got in the habit; most often I just avoided calling her anything at all. Saying Mel now would seem doubly weird.

  ‘I think he may have run away from home.’

  All the anger I felt, that she hadn’t contacted me before, had just dropped me after months of me hanging at her house, dissolved. She sounded gutted. It was probably wrong of me but I felt relieved, justified. I knew something was properly off with Liam. A breakdown rather than a break-up. I could help then. Change things.

  ‘I’m coming around to yours, right now.’

  Oh my God, I hardly recognise Mrs Harrison. She seems like she’s lost loads of weight since I saw her a few weeks ago and it does not suit her. She looks like she has cancer or something. As she leads me into their sitting room, I start preparing myself for her telling me that; maybe that’s why Liam has freaked out and run away. It would have been awful, a horrible, horrible thing but what she tells me is somehow worse. Look, I know it’s not. Not really. No one is dying. But it is. It’s worse.

  ‘What, hang on. You saw a porn video belonging to your friend, Abigail, and Liam was in it.’ I don’t get it. It makes no sense.

  ‘Starring role,’ she quips. I have no idea why – there is no humour in this situation.

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘I recognised his birthmark,’ she says. I know it. It’s on his right buttock. It’s distinctive. It looks like a rabbit’s head. I guess his mum won’t have seen it for a while but she’d know it too. I feel dizzy. Faint. She describes, in excruciating detail, her response to finding the film. Puking over it but then copying it.

  ‘Why did you do that?’ I ask, horrified.

  ‘To check I hadn’t made a mistake. I thought I’d have to watch it again to confirm things but I didn’t, because at that point, Abi just sauntered down the stairs. In her robe.’

  I suppose Mrs Harrison must be too upset to think how her words are affecting me. They are blows. Or maybe she is aware but doesn’t care because she knows there’s nothing she can say to comfort me.

  ‘When do you think it began?’ I ask carefully.

  ‘I imagine it’s been going on for a while, the movie doesn’t strike me as a first-date production but I could be wrong. What do I know? Nothing, apparently. I know nothing about my son or my best friend.’ She shrugs. ‘I’ve been wondering whether it was before or after his trip to Edinburgh.’

  ‘What trip to Edinburgh?’ I ask.

  ‘He went to see the Scottish Parliament, with the sixth form.’ I shake my head. There was no trip. Mrs Harrison looks startled. I guess she’s counting up the lies. I certainly am.

  ‘He said he wanted to cool things off because he wanted to concentrate on his grades. The bastard.’

  ‘Well, I know his A-levels are important to him,’ she mumbles. She’s in the habit of defending him and it’s pathetic. I glare at her. Stupid woman. Stupid, stupid woman. How did she let this happen? Under her fucking nose.

  ‘Been doing a lot of studying recently, has he?’ I snap, unable to tame my bitterness.

  ‘No,’ she admits.

  She tells me they’ve been going to London together, staying in fancy hotels, that they spent most of the Easter holidays together here, alone, while Mr and Mrs Harrison worked. She spews up the story, holds nothing back. I think part of her wants someone else to be as shocked and hurt as she is. She wants her pain validating. Apparently, Mr Harrison is behaving as though it is the most normal thing in the world that her oldest friend is having sex with her son.

  ‘Agggh.’

  The sound explodes, surprising me as much as Mrs Harrison, no doubt. I don’t recognise the sound, I’ve never made it before. Like a cat in pain. I feel terrible, frustrated, vulnerable. He preferred that old woman to me. It’s embarrassing. He’s crawled all over her. It’s gross. He’s lied to me. It’s unforgivable. I didn’t see this coming. I should have, but why would I? She’s old. Who would have thought? He was a bit obsessed with her. He googled her as s
oon as she moved in with them. He watched every YouTube clip of her, and there are hundreds. He read everything about her. I thought he was just curious about their house guest. I didn’t see his curiosity tip into desire.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Tanya. I’m sorry for what my son has done. Can you stay for a cup of tea? Shall I make you a cup of tea? Sweet, I think. You’ve had a shock.’

  She leaves the room to put the kettle on and I immediately reach for her phone. It’s not difficult to crack her code, 1.2.3.4.5.6. Hardly Bletchley Park level encryption. I search about until I find the video. I press play. I can’t not. I know I don’t want to see it, that I’ll regret it but I can’t stop myself. It’s so degrading, seeing him like that. With her. Some of the moves he pulls on her are the same as the ones he did with me. That hurts. But what hurts the most is seeing the new things he did with her. Does with her, I suppose. He seems so much more confident, more passionate. That old woman. I don’t get it. She’s just not right, it’s weird and sick.

  Parents look at us and see children, young adults at best. That slightly patronising halfway house. Honestly, I have never felt like a young adult. I am a kid. I live with my parents. I don’t pay bills. The only work I do is a bit of babysitting now and then. I am a kid. Or I was. Now I feel very adult. My heart is crumbling and nothing makes a girl grow up quite as swiftly as having her heart broken.

  40

  Abigail

  Friday 20th April

  Abigail ignored Rob’s calls. He rang four times but she knew there was value in letting him fester, fume. Besides, she wanted to take this call in front of Liam; it was important that he understood how Rob treated her. If anything came out, further along the line, she had to be sure that she’d coloured his view of Rob sufficiently. It wouldn’t be difficult. Rob was vain, selfish, and predictable. He would posture, he would rave.

  She had told Liam that the most recent offer Rob’s lawyers had made was laughable. Insulting, ludicrous.

  ‘He’s reduced it? Why?’ Liam asked, confused.

  ‘I’m not sure. He didn’t say. I suppose I’ll have to talk to him. I can’t accept it.’

  Liam was full of frustration. ‘Why is this dragging on?’

  ‘I know it’s a complete pain, my love. I just want to be free of him.’

  Liam had returned to the hotel at about six p.m., having been visiting one of his friends. Abigail was lying on the bed. Hot, apathetic. The air-conditioning was playing up. She’d rung housekeeping but nobody had come up to fix it yet. She hadn’t done much while Liam had been out. Made some calls, had a manicure. It was surprising how exhausting doing little could be.

  The charm of the hotel room was wearing thin. A few days in the hotel had been fun, but they’d lived like this for a week now; when she had work to do it was untenable, he couldn’t so much as put on the TV. It didn’t matter. This was their last night here. Tomorrow they would move to their apartment. Their new chapter as a couple would begin. Liam clearly loved the place she’d picked out. A rooftop apartment in the centre of town, a balcony, a view across all of Northampton. He thought it was the height of sophistication. It hadn’t been difficult persuading him to leave the hotel for the more permanent arrangement. She’d had to pay a premium to get in so quickly but that was life.

  Time was money.

  Time was of the essence.

  No time to lose.

  The most certain way to succeed was to try just one more time.

  Abigail didn’t know how long she’d need. Her goal might take months, a year. Still, she was prepared to wait. The difficulty would be keeping him around for the duration. So far there was no indication that his ardour was flagging but youth didn’t tend to be the friend of patience. Creating the rift between him and his family was a help; isolated, he would naturally cling to her. The trendy apartment was a lure and she had other things up her sleeve. Rob’s reduced settlement offer, for example. She would make that work for her.

  Liam flopped onto the bed the moment he walked through the door, well more like launched himself. It made her smile. His youthful enthusiasm, his energy. He instantly started to kiss her, his hand went up her top, she could feel his hardness through his jeans, pushing on her thigh.

  When her mobile rang, he mumbled, ‘Ignore it.’

  Not breaking from the kiss, she scrambled about on the bedside table, found the phone, behind his head she checked the screen. Then, pulling apart, she said, ‘I must take it, it’s Rob. He’ll just keep calling. I know. He can be bullish that way. Sorry.’

  ‘You’ve received my email, I take it?’ Rob demanded.

  He sounded smug, in control. It was a change in tone. Since she’d walked in on him screwing his PA, he’d made an effort to sound contrite and, if not reconciliatory then at least reasonable. Now, all his dissembling had gone.

  ‘I did, yes. What is it? Your idea of a joke?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s my final offer. That’s the settlement. Take it or leave it.’

  Rob was loud and Liam was lying close to her so she was pretty sure he could hear every word, but to be certain, she put Rob on speaker phone. She’d always told Liam she’d treat him as an equal; this was his business too.

  ‘It’s less than half your opening offer. That’s not how things work, Rob. You’re the offending party. I get to take you to the cleaners. It’s called justice.’ She smiled at Liam, flirty, conspiratorial.

  ‘I have your latest showreel,’ Rob said. ‘The pornographic one.’

  ‘What?’ Her expression changed instantly, as though someone had drawn the curtains. She sat up straight in bed and looked puzzled, confused, scared. ‘I don’t understand,’ she stuttered. Her eyes met Liam’s in panic and horror now. Yet, she did understand, she knew exactly what had happened. ‘How did you get it?’ she asked.

  ‘Someone emailed it to me.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘I don’t know. It was a weird, made up email. Jane Doe zero zero at something or other. This changes everything. You won’t get anywhere near the original settlement I offered. You put on quite the show, Abi. He’s a clever guy, his face isn’t ever in shot. You weren’t clever though, were you? Your face is clearly visible, that and every other part of your body. Fuck Abi, those close ups.’

  ‘She didn’t tell you who he is?’ Abi asked hurriedly. She threw a look of reassurance at Liam; he returned one of pure panic.

  ‘You say “she”. You know who sent the video?’ Rob asked, sharp as ever.

  ‘No, I’m guessing it’s a she. You said the email address is Jane Doe, not John Doe.’

  ‘You don’t think it was the guy in the video then? A set up?’

  ‘No! I don’t think that for a moment.’ Abi squeezed Liam’s arm as he frantically shook his head in denial.

  Rob paused. Suspicious. ‘He looks young. Very young.’

  ‘That’s none of your business.’

  ‘How old is he?’

  ‘Old enough. British law.’

  ‘Fuck, Abi, do you mean sixteen? Seventeen?’

  ‘I’m not going to discuss this with you.’

  ‘If he’s under eighteen you’re in muddy water according to US law. What the fuck are you doing, Abi? It’s disgusting. You disgust me.’

  Outraged, Liam reached to snatch the phone, but Abi didn’t want him to cut Rob off. She needed to hear what he had to say. She shook her head gently, mouthed, ‘It’s OK, I can handle this.’

  Liam couldn’t, he scrambled to the edge of the bed, sat hunched, head in hands. She rubbed his back, kissed his shoulder. Took a gamble that she should continue letting him listen.

  Rob always showed his pain through anger. He’d been reminded of what he was missing, what he had thrown away. Internally, Abigail smiled. She was glad about that at least. No matter what the cost, she wanted him furious and in pain. She wondered what thoughts had gone through his mind when he watched the film. She looked good on it, she knew she did. Hot and happy. No, more than happy, ecstatic. She’d made sure
of it. She hoped it had hurt him, wounded him. She was realistic. The blow would be to his pride, not his heart, but even so. She hoped he’d been humiliated, demeaned as he watched his wife frolic with a younger, fitter, better-looking man. At least that. She felt a crazy clash of emotions, euphoric and victorious yet aching that it had come to this. Twenty years of loving had come to this. She told herself it wasn’t disgusting, what she’d done was fair and right. All is fair in love and war, right? She had wanted revenge and here it was. She needed to stay focused on what would happen next. She had to stay calm and cool, a step ahead. It wasn’t the moment to let her emotions overwhelm her.

  ‘Well, I hope you enjoyed the peep show but the film can have no effect on the divorce settlement. I only had sex with him after I’d moved out of the marital home. The blame for the breakdown of our marriage is still with you.’

  ‘OK,’ Rob drawled. ‘You know what? I think you’re right, that’s what the courts would say. If we went to court. You’d still get your pound of flesh and a chunk of my empire.’ Rob paused, allowing his words to settle and his full meaning to be understood. ‘So, I’m going to have to be more creative.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, there are lots of sites for this sort of film on the internet. You must be aware of that, Abigail. I think, with your name attached to it, we’d have an internet sensation on our hands. It would go viral within hours, I should imagine. Your private little party wouldn’t be quite so private anymore,’ he sneered. ‘Your career would be well and truly over. No one would hire you as an anchor of any serious programme if you become known as the star of a cougar porn film. Can you imagine thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands, of grubby little perverts looking at the film, getting off on your secretive, beautiful moments?’

  ‘You’re bluffing. Even you wouldn’t be so cruel.’

  ‘You know me Abi, a hard and ruthless businessman. You’ve watched me over the years out-wit, out-think, out-manoeuvre anyone from cameramen to CEOs. You used to think it was sexy.’

  ‘You’re just a bully, prepared to screw over anyone who stands in your way.’ Rob laughed. She had to stay firm, not show her fear or panic. ‘If you air the film, you’ll end up looking like a dick. I’ll tell the world you weren’t satisfying me and I had to turn to a younger lover. I’ll brazen it out.’