by June Hopkins
I sit at the kitchen table and sip thoughtfully at the tea I've made. I mean, I haven't really done anything wrong, kitchen table incident aside. Oh, and last night’s goodbye kiss, but surely that's hardly a hanging offence? What someone doesn't know won't hurt them, that's what they say isn't it? Oh for goodness sake, this is ridiculous! My thoughts are moving about like a pendulum. I don't know what I feel anymore; one minute I want Tom more than life, I'm seventeen again and those old feelings return with a vengeance and I can't think straight. Then suddenly one phone call from James and I'm feeling all mushy about him. Am I in love with both of them? In love with James, is that what I am? In the early hours of this morning, I wasn't. I convinced myself that I loved him as a friend, now I'm not so sure. God I am sooo confused, this is madness. Maybe for now I should just leave things as they are, let the dust settle. What's the point in upsetting James while he's away? Surely by the time he comes back I'll know what or who I want, won't I? I should tell him that Tom's here though, I owe him that much. After all, he was the one who said I would need to see how I felt about Tom. He's offered me the time, hence the no sex crap. Maybe I should make the most of it but I have to tell him Tom's here and I will on Sunday. I make a promise to myself and suddenly feel a lot happier. Now I just need to think of a good excuse to tell dad about Tom having Harry tomorrow, and all will be right in my world...
Chapter 13
I chicken out of telling dad and ask my mum to do it for me. I am such a wuss, but I can't be doing with it. Mum wasn't too chuffed. There was a definite steely tone to her voice but I think she sort of understands and has agreed to break the news to dad, bless her. Harry went off down the path with Tom this morning whooping with joy at getting to go out with his new found father in the fab car again. So much for worrying about him being scarred through this ordeal. Tom having Harry today was a bit of a faff to organise to be honest, as Harry has yet another party to go to this afternoon three till five. I did try to put off Tom as the whole thing had been arranged with mum and dad. Mum was going to take him to the party, pick him up and deposit him back with me at home after I finish work, but Tom was not to be swayed. He had an answer for every problem I presented. Having lost the argument and not really having any other excuses, I had eventually given in and said that he could take him. He can be very persuasive, and those penetrating eyes of his, well what can I say? And it really hadn't helped having Harry pleading the case on Tom's behalf with those very same eyes, a slightly different type of impact but an impact nonetheless, and so as usual I'd buckled under pressure and said yes.
I know dad will be absolutely furious with me for allowing this today, but hopefully mum will use her powers of persuasion on him and calm him down. The itinerary is now as follows: Tom picks up Harry, along with his big bag of necessities such as wipes, just-in-case change of clothes, brush, card and present. He has directions to the play area near Gloucester. Tom has some things to attend to out that way which he assured me would take a couple of hours. This means that he can pick up Harry on the way back and bring him home to me.
I have spent the day serving in the pub and am now waiting for Alex to show up to take over. I should have finished at five but Alex had begged me to stay an extra quarter of an hour, which I'd agreed to as long as it was no longer. Tom should be back between five thirty and quarter to six which would have allowed me enough time to get home, but it’s now twenty past and I am starting to panic. I don't want to leave Tom sitting waiting for me; that's really going to look great. Bloody Alex, he is so unreliable at times. I flipping well told him I had to leave on time. The phone rings and I answer it in my best professional voice, but before I can even finish my normal “Hello, White Hart, how can I help you?" Alex booms down the phone at me. "Annie, Annie, sorry, I'm going to be late. I parked in a car park in Gloucester and the bastards clamped my car. I was only gone an hour. It’s taken me ages to sort and cost a 100 quid. I'm livid. He's lucky I didn't punch his lights out, bloody jobsworth. I'm leaving now but I'm gonna be a half hour or so before I get back to you, what with the traffic and all. I'm so sorry Annie, really. I'll see you as soon as poss." The phone goes dead and I stare at it with my mouth open. I hadn't even had the chance to have a rant at him.
"Bollocks, what the hell am I going to do? I don't have many people in, but there are about ten or so and too many to shove out the door and lock up, and the odd ones I would normally trust to watch the place are all wasted as they've been in all afternoon. Bloody, bloody hell. I have no choice. I'm going to have to phone Tom and ask him to bring Harry here. Scrabbling in the bottom of my huge bag I unearth my mobile and find Tom's number. Luckily we'd exchanged numbers this morning before they'd left, in case of emergencies. The answer phone kicks in straight away and I leave a breathless message telling him what has occurred and asking him to bring Harry to the Hart. I put the phone down and nibble at my bottom lip nervously. What if he doesn't get the message? I'll text as well, that way I've covered all bases and I'll keep trying his phone in the hope that he answers.
"Come on Annie, I'm dyin' of thirst here. Stop messing with that bleedin' phone, will ya?" Bob the slob drawls at me whilst banging his pint glass on the bar.
I finish texting and throw the phone back into the depths of my bag and scowl at him, "Yea, whatever Bob. You bang your glass at me again and you can go over the road to get it." I snatch his glass off him, and the others laugh. They love it when I'm in a bad mood and take great delight in winding me up even more. The door opens and some more blokes enter. One of the lads in the town is getting married next Saturday and there's a coach load going to Bristol for the night. I start serving rapidly as they all want a pint and a shot and the time flies by. I don't realise until Alex returns and shuffles behind the bar looking suitably guilty. I give him my dirtiest glare and he apologises profusely, "For Christ’s sake Alex, it's bloody six o'clock," I tell him crossly. Hang on, six o'clock. Shit, where's Tom and Harry?
"Ah come on Annie. Look I'm sorry, it's not as if I did it on purpose is it? Let me get you a drink, please, it's the least I can do," Alex pleads with me.
"I don't want a sodding drink; I just need to find Harry." I mumble at him as I rummage in my bag again for the phone.
"I'll get you a drink, you seem tense," Alex informs me as he reaches round me for a glass.
"She's been tense for the last hour, miserable cow," Bob informs him with gusto.
Oh for God’s sake, my son is missing and they're making jokes. I turn on them both, "Fuck off the pair of you; I don't know where Harry is."
They both stare at me, "What d'you mean you don't know where he is?" asks Alex, his voice full of concern, "Who's looking after him?"
"Tom's got him. He's supposed to be picking him up from a party and bringing him home at about quarter to six. I was supposed to be there." I glare at Alex accusingly again. So when I got your call I left a phone message and a text to ask him to bring Harry here, but they aren't here are they? What if they've had an accident?" I am becoming hysterical, which is ironic given that I have just spent the last half hour working and chatting so much that I'd forgotten to try Tom's phone again. I find the number once more and put it to my ear, but again I just get the irritating tinny automated voice of that unknown woman on the answer phone.
"Annie, slow down, don't you think you're over reacting just a little? It’s only five past six, twenty minutes late, calm down have a drink. They'll be here in a minute." Alex pours me a gin and tonic and places it on the bar in front of me. "Here this'll calm you down." I know he's trying to be nice but I could shake him silly for stitching me up like this.
"Tom? Ain't that the bloke that was in with Ben and Lissa the other night?" he asks, thoughtfully, "Why's he got Harry? You related or something?"
I take a sip of gin, "Um, yea, sort of," I tell him shiftily, I'm not ready to tell everyone about the daddy bit yet and besides, I don't want Alex thinking Tom is anyone important and blurting it out to James before I get the ch
ance.
"Oh right, fair enough. Well, like I said they haven't been missing that long; you don't even know if he got the text. Maybe he's sitting outside your place waiting for you. Why don't you go home, and if they turn up here I'll send them to yours. At least you've got your bases covered then." Alex can be quite sensible at times.
"Good idea, I'll do that," I tell him with relief as I take a big gulp of the gin before I dash off out the door.
"Well this is nice," Tom says from behind me. I whizz round, and he is standing at the back bar with an unreadable expression on his face.
"Tom, oh, great! I was getting worried. I was just about to rush home," I tell him with relief.
He raises an eyebrow and looks meaningfully at the drink in my hand. "Oh really doesn't look like you were rushing anywhere. I've got your son in the car; do you want me to take him to Ben and Lissa's for a while? You could ring me when you're ready to come home?" His voice has a definite edge to it.
I frown at him, why is he sounding so strange? "Um no, its fine, I’m ready now. I'll come out and get him." I glance at Alex, who gives me a curious look and, saying "Goodbye", I grab my bag and leave through the back bar which Tom has already vacated.
I go out to the car park and across to Tom's car. He is helping Harry and his bags out of the car, which is odd. I could have sworn I only sent him with one. Harry bounds over to me shouting, "Mum, mum! You'll never believe what dad bought me. It's amazing."
I shoot a look at Tom who is still messing with about five bags, "Oh really! Well it looks like you've had quite a shopping spree young man. They can't all be yours, I hope."
"Yea they are. I've got a PSP, five games, an iPod Touch, some DVDs and some new trainers, look!" he tells me proudly and waggles a foot at me.
I am stunned. Bloody hell. Talk about over the top. He has an entire Christmas in those bags. I look at the trainers on my over excited child's feet; they're not the cheapest that's for sure. In fact, on closer inspection they are the ones that Harry has kept on about which cost eighty odd pounds; the ones that I told him he couldn't have because they were too expensive and I couldn't afford. Which come to think of it goes for the rest of his haul. I feel my temper rising. What the hell is the man thinking of?
Tom wanders over to us and as he hands them over, tells Harry to take his bags to my car. Harry heads off immediately to do his bidding, making a big deal of struggling with his heavy load and I feel a tad irked that he jumps to Tom’s tune that effortlessly. "Annie," he says in a headmasterish kind of voice, which is the only way to describe the tone. "Where were you? Harry and I have been waiting outside your house since 5.30. In the end as he was getting thirsty we thought we had better come and find you. I must say I didn't expect to find you having a good time drinking in the pub. Come to think of it should you even be driving? Maybe I ought to take the two of you home?"
My eyebrows shoot up, "Excuse me?" I splutter, "I was hardly having a good time and I've had exactly one mouthful of alcohol. I have just spent the best part of an hour in a panic. I've been waiting for you. Didn't you get my messages?" I ask him, indignantly. I am not too happy with his tone. And who does he think he is? He only met Harry yesterday.
"I haven't had any messages," he tells me.
"Well then you can't have had a signal. I've left you a text and a phone message."
"Annie, I have a perfectly good signal and I can assure you, I haven't had any messages," he tells me in a patronising tone, which doesn't improve my mood any.
"Oh this is ridiculous; I'll prove it, seeing as though you clearly don't believe me." I mutter at him from the depths of my bag as I look for the phone. I have so got to get a smaller bag or perhaps a bigger phone. Finding the phone I quickly go to the text page and look up the sent message which I triumphantly shove at his face, "There, thank you, a message for you, telling you I'm stuck at work and asking you to bring Harry here." I fold my arms and give him a gloating look.
"Annie I have not had any texts or messages. What number have you got for me?"
Oh for God’s sake, what's the matter with the man? I unfold my arms and go through the phone again, finding his number I read out the number in a bored voice.
"That's not my number," he tells me.
"What? What do you mean? That's the number you told me this morning."
"No it’s not. You have the last number wrong. It's an 8, not a 5." He has a definite smirk on his handsome face and a patronising tone to his voice now, and I am beginning to feel like a complete idiot. Why can't I get anything right?
"Oh you are joking? Well no wonder. I must have typed it in wrong. Bugger." My bravado has upped and left and now I have to apologise. "Sorry Tom, God, what an idiot. Sorry about that," I tell him.
He still has a strange air about him which is making me feel uneasy; I try to change the subject.
"Did Harry enjoy the party?" I try.
"I believe he did, yes. It is just unfortunate that he wasn't actually invited to it!" Tom states this coldly and looks at me.
"I'm sorry?" I laugh at him, "Don't be daft, of course he was invited. He had an invite, Stephen's 8th Birthday party at the play barn. What? Do you think I just made it up? You think I just send him to random parties or something?" I ask him sarcastically.
He curls his lip slightly at my tone, "No I don't think you made it up. However, I do know that you got the date wrong."
"What? Oh no way. I was sure it was today. It’s not next Saturday is it? You've had to keep him with you all day then?" Oh well not too bad, he's the one that wanted to spend time with Harry. Don't see what he's complaining about.
"Nooo, Annie, it is not next week, it is tomorrow in the same place. Today it was Luca's party and Harry was not actually invited to Luca's party, was he? Harry gatecrashed Luca's party!" Tom speaks slowly and deliberately with a hint of sarcasm. "Apparently, Harry was a little confused when it came to singing 'happy birthday'. Still, luckily, Luca's mother was kind enough not to kick him out onto the street to wander around for two hours. It appears that they were also kind enough not to enlighten Harry either, as he hasn't even mentioned it, so I assume he doesn't know that he wasn't supposed to be there." I feel my brow furrowing with a deep frown as I desperately try to process this horror story.
Tom continues with his tale, "I delivered him as requested, followed your instructions to the letter, ensured that Harry knew everyone there. I sought out Stephen's mum and left him with her; she seemed surprised that I had chosen to seek her out specifically but clearly didn't realise either."
I am dying inside as I listen to the damning account of my complete ineptitude. I am, it has to be said, horrified at myself. I frantically search my brain; I can't understand how this happened. God, this is horrendous on more levels than I care to think about. What about all the mothers at school? I'll be a laughing stock, and sending him to Luca's party! Christ, Harry and Lucas can't stand each other. No wonder he wasn't invited. Still, a bit mean though. Usually all the kids in the class go to the play barn parties. I feel myself getting angry on Harry's behalf. How mean is that? I bet Harry was the only one not invited. Luca's mother is hardly the most socially adept person I know, but surely even she would not stoop so low as to leave one child out of a birthday party? Even though they don't get on I would never dream of holding a party and inviting every child apart from Lucas.
"How many kids were there?" I demand.
"What? What does that matter?" Tom frowns at me.
"Oh it matters," I hiss, "how many?" I glare at him as I climb onto my high horse.
"There were a lot of kids, that's all I know; I'd take a guess at mid twenties, maybe thirty, why?"
"Bitch," I hiss.
Tom looks startled, "I'm sorry Annie, am I missing something? You appear not to be interested in the fact that I have just left our son at a child's party, uninvited. I have been humiliated by a number of women, some of whom clearly found the whole thing very amusing and some not so, especially the child's
grandmother who made it clear how rude she thought we were. I didn't even give the child a present as Harry had given it straight to Stephen. I could hardly take it off him after he saw it with his name on it. I can honestly say Annie, that I have never been so embarrassed in my entire life. Do you make a habit of this sort of thing? I mean, I am aware that you can be a little scatter-brained but this is absurd behaviour." Tom stares at me in bewilderment and I am not amused.
Scatter-brained, cheeky git, how dare he! I am well and truly up on the horse now. I can feel my nostrils flaring. Pulling myself up to my full height I glare at him.
"Do you know what Tom? I don't care. You turn up here after all this time and dare to stand here and lecture me on how I bring up my son. I don't deny I made a stupid mistake, but it's hardly crime of the century. You have no idea what it takes to bring up a child, to spend every waking hour thinking about their welfare, to juggle every last detail of their life. Harry is invited to more parties than you've had hot dinners. It was only a matter of time before something went wrong. What, you think you can take him to one event, look after him for a few hours, buy him a ludicrous amount of presents and that's it? Job done? You have an awful lot to learn Tom, a lot to learn." I am livid. Bloody self righteous prick, I'm off home. "Thanks for taking him out. I'll see you around," I tell him as I stomp off up the car park to my car. I unlock the doors, pick up Harry's bags and throw them across to the front passenger seat. I open the back door for Harry purposefully.