5 Weeks

by June Hopkins

  "Yes, that's as maybe, but you do have something that she doesn't, don't you Annie? His son." His tone still has that same tone to it, I feel as if he's in the room staring right into my eyes searching for the truth.

  "James, don't be daft. Look I won't deny that I felt something when I saw him but I can assure you that wore off pretty quickly. All I'm feeling now is frustration and irritation. He seems to just keep popping up all the time, worming his way in with Harry and now it seems my family. I don't seem to have any control over anything at the moment. I can't wait for the wedding to be over so that Harry and I can get back to normal and you'll be home."

  "Oh Annie, I wish I believed you." This statement stops me short.

  "What's that supposed to mean, James?"

  "I haven't known you for all these years without actually knowing you, have I? I get the feeling that there is something you are not telling me. I get the feeling that you still have a thing for him. I'm not completely daft Annie. Why do you think that I put the brakes on us before I left? I told you that you would probably still be in love with him; you can't wipe out feelings like that overnight. I know. I'm not sure I would know what to feel if Elkie appeared again." I feel my heart tighten at this statement. “Look Annie, I'm not having a go at you, I'm just stating a fact. Come on, it's part of the reason that I carried on with the holiday. I wanted to give you time to think. I don't want to be your consolation prize."

  I feel my throat clog again with tears that are close to the surface. I can't bear this; can't bear to hear the hurt in his voice, but I can't tell him he's imagining it either because what do I feel about Tom, about James for that matter? God what a complete and utter mess. I let out a shuddering sob that won't be contained, "James, please," I beg him.

  "Annie stop. I'm not accusing you, babe, I'm a big boy. I can take it but if you don't mind I won't phone you for a couple of days. I want to give you time, time to figure out how you feel about me and him for that matter. I've seen him remember, he was always a pretty good looking bloke. Not sure if my ugly toothless mug can compete with that if he decides to sweep you off your feet, unless of course you are going to make me feel better by telling me he's not aged well." James laughs but it's not a good laugh and because I can't tell him what he wants to hear I stay quiet.

  I feel the tears running slowly down my face, "James I'm sorry," I say in a voice that squeaks pitifully.

  "Annie, listen I have to go. Chin up babe, you'll be ok. Do as I said and just be yourself. I'll ring you in a few days. I'm not deserting you, ok? I'm just giving you some breathing space, ok? Annie, are you still there?"

  "Yes, I'm here," I say resignedly. I'll speak to you soon, James. Please phone me won't you?" I know I sound pathetic but I can't help it. I feel like I'm losing him. Maybe I already have. I choke on that thought.

  "See you Annie. I will phone, but give it a few days alright?" He blows me a kiss and the phone goes dead.

  I stare at the phone and feel completely cold and empty. Blimey, where did that come from? I want to phone him back straight away, blurt out that I love him, don't want anybody else, beg him to come home, but something stops me. I put the phone back in my bag. James is right as usual. I need time, and I’m a big believer in fate, what will be will be. I'm not going to force anything; I'll just go with it, see what happens. Right now I have to redo my makeup, yet again.

  Chapter 16

  I glance at the hall clock, 2.00 pm. They must have finished by now and obviously think me very rude but I'm past caring. I can hear the laughter and chatter through the door. I've managed to repair the damage to my face which is a minor miracle given the tears and usual resulting elephant woman look. Time to face the enemy. I take a deep breath and enter the dining room. The scene before me is a picture of joviality; the dining room is my mother's pride and joy. A real sunny, showhome masterpiece of deep green wall paper and cream woodwork, complete with fabulous dining suite of solid oak comprising a table and eight upholstered chairs. Seated at the table are my mum and dad at either end, Penelope, and I assume Charles, mainly because he is the double of Tom but with a larger face and very grey hair (a real silver fox) with Harry in between them. There is an empty place for me, complete with an old kitchen chair. Charming. On the other side with their backs to me are Lissa, Ben and Tom. They are still eating lunch although close to finishing and are obviously making inroads into dad's wine collection, judging by the empties. Deep in conversation with each other they don't notice me immediately but that doesn't last long and my reprieve is interrupted by Charles, who spots me lurking in the doorway and jumps up. He is really tall, a big bear of a man. His stomach, which was hidden under the table, looks like it’s holding twins. With a deep booming voice he says, "You must be Annie, how lovely. We've been waiting for you young lady." I feel all eyes turn to me as he makes his way past my empty seat and dad and launches himself at me, his hand out to shake mine. He nearly takes my arm off with his over enthusiastic shake and doesn't let go as he pretty much drags me round the table to sit down next to him.

  "Now Harriet, where is this girl's lunch? Can't have the mother of my grandchild going hungry now can we?" he booms at mum.

  I glance nervously at my dad who gives me one of his ”just go with it” looks. I look over at Tom who is clearly embarrassed and that makes me feel a little better. Lissa sends me a look filled with sympathy and Ben just keeps his face averted. Obviously Charles is a rather exuberant type of chap, but that's fine, I can cope with that.

  Mum plonks down my lunch in front of me, "I've been keeping it warm for you. You've missed the soup, I'm afraid," she says quietly. I glance up at her quickly but she is fine; she smiles at me and I find myself smiling back. I am relieved, I don't want to fall out with her. She sits back down and urges everyone to finish their meals and I tuck into my roast beef in the hope of getting as much down me as possible before everyone else finishes, as there is no chance that I'm going to sit here and eat alone.

  Luckily my dad resumes his conversation with Charles about the Orient Express which gives me the opportunity to wolf my food down. I manage just over half the lunch before Penelope, the last person to finish, puts down her knife and fork and I have to reluctantly push my plate away. This provokes Charles into informing the whole room that I can't have finished, and I have to assure everyone that I'm fine and couldn't possibly eat another thing, which encourages Charles to helpfully point out that a sturdy looking girl like me clearly likes her food and should not be embarrassed about that and to get stuck back in. I am, it has to be said, mortified and know that I'm blushing. Tom quickly grabs a bottle, leans over the table and fills a glass with white wine for me. Catching my eye he sends me a “sorry” look and I gratefully take a couple of decent gulps whilst Penelope quietly tries to bring her husband under control. Harry saves the day however by suddenly asking his new grandfather if he has ever met Winston Churchill. I cringe at this, but Charles clearly finds this little gem amusing and guffaws for all he is worth.

  The next hour and a half passes fairly uneventfully. Dessert is served, followed by coffee and lashings of wine. I spend a little time with Penelope as we help mum in the kitchen. I have to say that I have taken to her; she is a lovely lady and clearly has her hands full with Charles who likes his drink, a lot. Not that I have a problem with that, I am a barmaid after all. We are then all back in the dining room, a little stuffed with the excess of food and drink. Well, from my point of view that would be mainly drink. Mum has the photo albums out and is showing Penelope and Charles pictures of Harry from newborn to present day. I give Lissa the nod and we refill our glasses and head for the garden; I'm in need of a fag. Outside we sit back down on the bench and light up.

  "Well, how are you holding up? What do you think of them?" Lissa questions me.

  "I really like Penelope, but the jury's still out on Charles," I tell her and Lissa laughs.

  "He can be hard work at times and to be fair he does seem a little over excited today. He
's not usually this exuberant, honestly, but then again I suppose you can't really blame him. It's not every day you discover a new grandchild, and I think they had started to believe it would never happen given Melanie's reluctance."

  "Yea, I suppose so. I can't really blame them and they are both being brilliant with Harry; he seems to adore them already." We sit chatting happily in the afternoon sun. It's good to be friends again, and I hate bad atmospheres. We look up as the back door opens and Ben wanders into the garden. He comes over to us and I stare at him, waiting for him to actually look me in the eye. I haven't said one word to him during the entire lunch. He has avoided eye contact the entire time. I wondered how long it would take him.

  "Annie..." he says as he reaches the bench.

  "Ben..." I say back. I'm still staring at him, his eyes dart about and I wait. Eventually they rest on mine.

  "I'm sorry, ok? I should have said something."

  I throw my cigarette away and stand up and face him. "That Ben, is an understatement. You have been betraying me for years, going behind my back. What exactly do you expect me to say to you?" I feel my temper rising, fuelled by the large amount of wine I now have on board.

  "Annie I don't want to fall out with you. I only did what I thought was right at the time."

  I snort unattractively, "Don't want to fall out with me? A little late for that, I'd say. Exactly how could you think that doing what you did was the right thing? I would love you to explain it to me," I say sarcastically.

  "Annie," Lissa says quietly behind me.

  "Don't!" I turn on her, "Don't defend him Lissa." She holds up her hands to me but doesn't say anything else.

  "Well?" I demand of him, hands on hips. Ben sighs loudly and sits down next to Lissa leaving me towering over him like an avenging angel.

  "When I first realised that Tom was very likely the father, I told him because I hoped that he would get off his ass and do something about it. I hated the thought of you struggling to bring up a baby on your own, seeing Harry without a father. I don't know if you remember but we did have rather a lot of heart to hearts back then Annie, when I tried my hardest to get you to open up to me, admit that it was Tom; but you weren't having any of it."

  My mind trawls back over the years and I do remember. Actually he's right. Many times we ended up in the pub or at their place, a little worse for wear, when Ben would keep on about the unidentified father, but I'd stuck to my guns; kept my wits about me and never let on.

  "You are a tough nut to crack Annie, I don't mind telling you."

  "But why were you so bothered Ben? I don't understand. What's it to you?"

  "Don't know. Probably just that we were all friends. I felt loyalty to Tom, I even felt sorry for him at first, then later it felt like a challenge. I became angry with him in the end when he wouldn't come back and have it out with you, especially after he realised that Harry was his. I couldn't understand him, even less so when Holly was born. I didn't want him to miss out on what I had. I didn't want Harry to miss out on a father and I didn't see why you should struggle financially when I know the sort of money he earns. Eventually Tom and I fell out about four years ago; we had an argument out in New York just before we flew home. You may remember Liss?" Lissa nods thoughtfully but it seems that quite a bit of this confession is news to her also.

  Ben continues, "I'd tried to use Holly during our holiday to make him see that he should get in contact with you, hoped that he would see us with her (she was about one at the time) and decide that he wanted to meet his own child, but I didn't count on his stubbornness. He'd been offered a partnership in the firm the year before and was doing amazingly well; had the best of everything, materially speaking. He wasn't prepared to give that up. I couldn't get through to him and I'd had enough of trying. I decided to have nothing more to do with him and I stopped bothering to get you to open up and came to the conclusion that the two of you had made your beds and you could lay on them. Tom and I lost contact for about a year, then suddenly out of the blue he got back in touch. Part of the reunion agreement was that I wouldn't send him any more photos or speak to him about Harry again. I decided that if he wanted to know he would have to come here and find out for himself. The last photo I sent him was taken at Harry's 5th birthday party and I told Tom that that was the last and I meant it. I only let him have that because he virtually begged me for one, but I wish I hadn't bothered because it still took the best part of three years for him to get over here. Look, I am sorry that I didn't tell you Tom knew, but to be honest by the time I'd realised that he wasn't going to make the grand gesture and come charging in and rescue you both, I didn't see the point in hurting you with the truth. What would you have gained from my telling you that he knew but wanted nothing to do with you both?"

  He looks up at me through his blonde floppy fringe and I believe every word he has just said to me. Although I still feel a little put out, I can see where he's coming from and his motives are not unlike my own for not telling Tom in the first place. Bloody hell, what a tangled web we've woven between us.

  "I can see where you were coming from Ben; Tom pretty much said the same the other night although he did put a slightly different spin on it." Ben lets out a snort at this statement. "Why now though; why do you think he wants to meet him now? Is it true about Melanie not wanting kids, and that's his reason?"

  "Look Annie, honestly I'm not sure. I'd like to think that I wore him down over the years. I'm not really into the Melanie theory; they don't really seem that into each other anyway: never really have done."

  My head shoots up at this revelation, "What's that supposed to mean Ben? I've always had the impression that she is the love of his life; he'd do anything for her. Am I missing something?"

  Lissa is staring at Ben, waiting for his answer, as am I.

  He sighs loudly, "I don't know Annie. How would I know? It's just a feeling I've always had. They seem ok together but it's all about their careers. Melanie has never wanted kids, that's nothing new. Tom's not surprised at the whole sterilisation thing, and why do you think Melanie is not here?"

  I shrug dumbly at him.

  "She's always known about Harry, or at least for quite a number of years."

  "She has?" Lissa interjects.

  "Yes of course. She knows that Tom in effect cheated on her with you." He looks at me, "Have you had some lunatic woman shouting abuse down the phone at you? Did she turn up here banging your door down? Or did she just keep her mouth shut, not even letting on to you Lissa, because Tom asked her not to? Did she happily take herself off to see family and friends and leave Tom to come and see his son? Does that sound to you like someone who is fanatically in love with their fiancé? Because it certainly doesn't to me. Melanie couldn't give a fuck, Annie, she's not bothered. What does that say to you?"

  My mind is reeling; my thoughts drunkenly rolling around in my head barging into each other, reality and fantasy becoming one and the same. Oh My God, he did come back for me and Harry. I feel light headed at this revelation but I need to stay cool, don't want to appear desperate. Probably better if I carry on making him work for it. Yes that's what I'll do, I'll be cool, sophisticated, sexy- ish. I will make him desperate for me. I feel myself smiling widely.

  "Um Annie, are you ok?" Ben's voice breaks into my daydream.

  "Give me a hug Ben," I tell him as I hold out my arms.

  He looks up at me with slight bewilderment, but does as he's told and stands up to be enfolded in my arms. We hug tightly. Ben's been a brilliant friend to me over the years and I love him to bits. It feels good to have sorted out things and right at this moment I could happily forgive anyone anything.

  Lissa smiles at us both, "Thank goodness for that. The atmosphere in our house has been awful over the last few days. Now can we all please put it behind us and get back to normal? The wedding is in two weeks." Both Ben and I sigh deeply and say, "Yes Lissa" at exactly the same time, and we all burst out laughing.

  "Right you two, let's g
o and get some more alcohol while dad's in a generous mood."

  We head back into the kitchen for more supplies and are greeted by a huge roar from the direction of the dining room.

  "Jesus, what was that?" I ask, eyes wide.

  "That would be Charles," answers dad as he emerges from the hallway with mum and Harry in tow.

  "What's going on?"

  "Shall we retire to the garden folks?" dad says as he ushers us all outside.

  Confusion reigns but we all do as we are told and go out to the patio table and sit down. Mum follows a few minutes later with a tray complete with wine bottle, a couple of glasses, a can of coke for Harry and two cans of lager for dad and Ben, which she sets on the table. I notice her checking to see that she has enough glasses, noting that Lissa and I still have ours before seating herself. Harry is already bored; grabbing his can he heads up the garden to his tree house.

  "Will one of you please tell us what is going on?" I ask. I am literally squirming with curiosity.

  "There was a little incident, nothing to worry about. Charles happened to make a few comments about the fact that you had never told Tom about Harry. He muttered on about lost time and so on, your father took exception and put him straight," mum informs us as she plays waitress.

  "What? Blimey, really? You didn't have a row with him dad, did you?" I ask. I'm half worried about the bad atmosphere a row would cause and half proud of dad for sticking up for me.

  "No we did not have a row. I merely pointed out that perhaps he should look closer to home for someone to blame instead of pointing the finger at you. The man has clearly indulged a little too much this afternoon and I will not be spoken to like that in my own home." Dad puffs up his chest and I secretly smile.

  "Blimey, what happened then?" I want to know the whole thing.