5 Weeks

by June Hopkins

My heart jumps in my chest, "Oh my God, has she had an accident?"

  Ben sort of sneers at me, "Not yet," he tells me through gritted teeth.

  I feel my eyes widen at the nastiness in his tone. "Um what's going on Ben?"

  He seems to realise where we are and the fact that we have an audience and takes my arm, "Not here, outside."

  I am slightly startled but curiosity gets the better of me, so I ask Stan to cover and we head out to the garden where we light up fags before Ben explains. I wait patiently. If she hasn't had an accident what the hell is he so upset about? He wouldn't normally be this upset over a row.

  "Lissa has been having an affair," he informs me in a matter of fact voice, "with Tom."

  I let out an involuntary snort of laughter, "What? Don't be daft. You must be joking. Where on earth did you get an idea like that?" I ask in condescending tone of voice.

  "Do I look like I'm fucking joking?" he snarls at me.

  This takes me aback. Come to think of it, no he certainly doesn't look like he is joking. I process the information for a minute or so as I stare at him, willing him to start laughing and say that he's winding me up but as I stare, some sort of sixth sense kicks in and it hits me like a ton of bricks. Things start slotting into place with frightening speed and clarity. Of course they are having an affair; that would explain everything, her behaviour towards me whenever Tom is mentioned, her reaction to the earrings and our closeness at dinner on Saturday night. She wasn't drunk, she was jealous; and Tom, he's been odd towards me since he got here acting like he fancies me one minute and in the next breath stepping back. And this morning, he was definitely strange. I sit down hard on the bench as the shock kicks in; my legs don't seem to be able to support me.

  "Oh my God! When? How? When did you find out?" I stammer. Ben lets out a loud sigh and sits down heavily next to me. He rakes his hand through his already messed hair, and I assume he has been doing a lot of that.

  "I found out yesterday afternoon; early evening really. She wouldn't get out of bed as I told you on the phone. It's not like her as you know. I kept going up to see if she was ok, taking her food and drinks, the way you do when someone is ill; just wanted to look after her," he snorts. "I thought she just had a bad hangover. As the day wore on I started to get worried, thinking that she was really ill; you know, seriously ill. She wouldn't speak you see, not a word. She just lay there staring into space. In the end I told her I was sending for the doctor. That seemed to do the trick, well got her speaking at least. She begged me not to and then started crying hysterically. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't do anything with her, she just lay there sobbing. Luckily my parents have taken Holly back with them for a few days before the wedding so I didn't have to worry about her. Tom wasn't any help, although I questioned him. I tried to find out if anything had happened the night before when he took her home. He said on the phone she was in a state when he found her. I started to think awful things like she'd been attacked or something." He shakes his head and a nasty grimace sets on his face, "What a fucking idiot I am!" He spits.

  I rub his arm trying to calm him but I'm starting to get into a rage myself. Still, I need to hear this.

  "Go on, then what happened?"

  "Tom promised me he didn't think it was anything like that. He was odd, sad almost, just told me I would have to get it out of her. Then he said that he would go and stay somewhere else for the night, give us some space. I said there was no need but he seemed desperate to get out of the house. I stupidly believed he was embarrassed. You can understand that, he obviously felt that he was intruding. I would have wanted out as well if I were him, that's what I thought." He lets out a breath, "What a complete and utter prick I am. Yea, he was embarrassed alright and yea, he wanted out of there because he knew what she was going to tell me; fucking coward. I'm going to rip his smarmy fucking head off when I find the bastard." I jump at the intensity of his anger but I don't blame him. In fact, I'd be quite happy to help with the ripping part; that's after I do Lissa over.

  "So he went then. You haven't seen him since? He picked up Harry this morning and never said a word. Bloody hell, cheeky bastard."

  "Oh I've looked for him, don't you worry about that. I went out first thing this morning. I had too much to drink last night to go then and Lissa hid the car keys. I was going anyway, drunk or not I was that angry. So she probably did the right thing," he says begrudgingly. He took all his belongings I found out later; he did a right number on me. I've searched as many hotels as I can think of this morning in a fifteen mile radius but no joy. He won't answer his phone but he's certainly got an awful lot of messages I can tell you. That's why I came to you. I was hoping you could help me find him."

  "He's taken Harry to Longleat. They’re due back around 6.00 so we can organise something for then, but I don't want Harry involved in any arguing.”

  "Fair enough, I wouldn't do that anyway."

  "So he's gone, and Lissa tells you what?" I want to get back to the story.

  "I went back to the bedroom and sat on the bed; I just kept on at her until she couldn't take it anymore and blurted the whole thing out to me. She said she had been seeing Tom on and off since the day they met at Phillip's party."

  I suck in a quick breath at this, "No way."

  "Oh yes way. Apparently he was, is, in love with her. Lissa is the reason he took the job in New York; he moved there to try to forget her, as she chose me."

  Dear God, I am floored. The night Harry was conceived was nothing to do with Melanie, it was all about getting back at Lissa. The complete wanker!

  "She says that over the years I kept insisting on going over to visit, which I did. She couldn't find a good enough excuse not to. There were odd times over the years when she would allow herself to be drawn back into it; she admits that sometimes it was him and others when she was at fault. She describes him as a drug that she was addicted to and though she tried to keep away she would just end up giving in again and again." He stifles a sob and I have to admit to knowing a little about what she is saying.

  "He is very charismatic and charming to women, I'll give him that. He certainly had my heart and soul for more years than I care to think about. I thought we were going to finally get together, be a family, the three of us. You aren't the only one who’s had a number pulled on them," I tell him sadly.

  Ben turns to me and takes my cold hands in his, "I'm sorry Annie, I know this is hurting you too."

  I just shrug; I can hardly compare what I'm feeling to Ben. "Anyway go on." I order him.

  "Yes well, she says that he came back for the wedding to try and persuade her to leave me and go back to America with him. She says that she told him no; that although she cares about him she wants to be with me, marry me, grow old with me, even have another baby. She says that she has realised that she isn't in love with him anymore. Having him here, watching him behave the way he has towards you, all to make her jealous, has shocked her out of it. Even the earrings he gave to you were meant for her. I think that was the final straw. She says he was using you to get at her and she couldn't hurt you like that."

  It's my turn to snort, "Bit late for that ain't it? Do you believe her?"

  He shrugs, "I have no idea. I don't know what to think."

  "Can you forgive her?"

  "Same answer. I'm still in shock. It's the betrayal; they have both betrayed me and you, and it makes me feel physically sick when I think about it."

  "So what now?"

  "The only thing I want right now is to put my fist in that bastard’s face. Until I do that I don't think I’m going to be able to think clearly about anything, properly."

  I nod, I know just how he feels. All I want right now is to slap the pair of them senseless. I sit and think over every detail. I smoke another cigarette and we both sit in silence. The anger starts somewhere around my toes, it swarms up through my body like a rocket. I jump up and tell Ben to wait there. I run inside and inform Stan that I have an emergency and won't be
back. He has to stay and look after the pub until Alex or Jane get in. Stan is slightly taken aback, but he can see the state I'm in and doesn't argue; just tells me not to worry and go. Grabbing my bag I rush back outside and order Ben to take me to his house. I want to see Lissa, now. He doesn't argue, just follows me to the car and we set off.

  Chapter 22

  As we pull up on the drive I practically dive out of the car before we stop and run up the path, opening the door and charging in uninvited. I head for the kitchen. As I storm through the door I come face to face with Lissa who is standing by the sink with her phone to her ear. She turns to me and she looks absolutely awful. I can honestly say in all the years I have known her I have never seen her looking so horrendous. Even when I saw her about ten minutes after Holly was born she looked radiant and that was after a 24 hour labour.

  "Annie," she says to me.

  Something clicks over in my brain and I march over to her and slap her as hard as I possibly can across the face. The phone flies from her hand and lands in the sink where it disappears under the soapy water with a satisfying glug. "Don't you Annie me, you fucking back stabbing bitch," I snarl at her.

  She jumps away and throws up an arm to ward me off, cowering against the kitchen unit. One hand up to me, the other holding her fast reddening cheek. "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry," she tells me tearfully. As much as I'd like to beat her to a pulp I wouldn't hit a defenceless animal, and at this moment that is exactly what she looks like.

  Ben rushes in, "Annie, please don't." I step back and look at the pair of them in disgust. “I've done what I came to do. Don't worry, I'm not going to kill her.”

  Lissa is sobbing like a baby, all the while pleading with me through her eyes; I just stare at her in that same disgusted way. I find my voice from somewhere, "All these years, all this time. How could you? How could you do that? You should have told me at the time; you knew how I felt, and you could have saved me years of heartache if you'd just been honest. Instea, you lied to me even when he came back. I told you what happened the first night, you should have told me then. You've allowed me to live in a fantasy world for God knows how many days; allowed him to worm his way in with me, my family."

  "I tried, honestly, I tried on that Friday morning, but you wouldn't listen. You ran away from me, told me to get out. I was too scared to follow you and tell you the truth. I didn't know what to do."

  "You should have tried harder," I spit at her.

  "And what about Harry? You haven't thought about him at all in any of this, you selfish cow."

  Her hand flies to her mouth in shock, "Oh my God, Harry. I was just trying to phone Ben when you came in."

  "What? What do you mean?" Alarm bells are sounding as I wait for an answer.

  Tom phoned, he said he was going back to America. He was begging me to change my mind and go with him. Annie, he's taking Harry."

  "What?" I yell, "What do you mean?" She starts blubbering again, whimpering that she's sorry; I fly at her grabbing the tops of her arms and shake her hard. "Tell me, Lissa! What the fuck do you mean?" I yell at her.

  Ben grabs me from behind and pulls me away from her. “Leave it Annie. I'll deal with it.” I stand back and lean against the unit, a cold dread has descended and I start to shake.

  Ben puts his hands gently on Lissa's shoulders, "Lissa, please calm down and tell me what he said."

  She calms and blurts out that Tom is heading for Birmingham airport; he has given her until five o'clock to meet him there before he checks in, and then he is going with Harry, with or without her. He took Harry's passport from my house this morning.

  I let out a sound that is somewhere between a scream and a howl, as I sink to my knees, "Nooo, nooo! Not my baby, he can't take my baby."

  Ben springs into action. He grabs me and drags me to my feet, shaking me roughly, "Annie, calm down. We need to get in the car now and get to Birmingham. You can phone the police on the way, ok? Annie, are you listening to me?"

  I nod dumbly at him. Yes he's right, that's what we have to do. We've got to get there before they go through customs.

  "You’re coming as well,” he barks at Lissa.

  "What? No I don't want her anywhere near me," I hiss at him as I throw a look of loathing at her.

  "I'm not interested in that right now. She’s coming and she is going to ring Tom and stall him," Lissa looks at him horrified.

  "No, no, I can't. I don't want to talk to him," she pleads with him.

  "I don't give a fuck what you want. You and that bastard are to blame for all of this and it's not as if you aren't any good at lying is it? I'm sure you'll manage to think of something; it's the very least you can do. Now move both of you, we've got a plane to catch."

  We all stumble out to the car and set off out of Lower Becksley at a dangerous speed. I phone 999 before we have even left the street and explain in a panicked voice what has happened. They take my number and tell me that a detective will phone me back as soon as possible. We reach the motorway junction in record time. Once on the motorway, Ben orders Lissa to make the phone call. She tells him she hasn't got a phone as I threw it in the sink and I have to allow myself a moment of pleasure at the thought. He throws his over to the back seat and tells her that she'll have to make the call on his phone; she can say that Ben took hers and so she's stolen his and is on her way.

  "He'll never believe me," she cries and I want to slap her again but stay silent. I need her to make that phone call. It’s best if I keep quiet for now.

  "Just fucking do it Lissa. I'm not going to ask you again," Ben says ominously.

  I turn in the front seat and watch her as she shakily picks up the phone and finds the number. She glances up at me but I just glare at her. She looks away, takes a deep breath, presses call and holds the phone up to her ear. An eternity passes until the answer phone kicks in. "He's not answering," she says shakily.

  Ben smacks a hand to his forehead, "Christ, what an idiot! Of course he's not going to answer, it's my phone. Shit! He certainly won't answer to you," he says as he glances over at me. The moment of pleasure I had at ruining her phone has vanished and been replaced by a huge mound of regret. I could well have just lost my son because of my actions. The hard knot of fear in my stomach twists even more. I can't even cry I am so shocked at the turn of events. That lying bastard was going to take Harry the whole time. My dad was right.

  My phone rings and I don't recognise the number. I answer quickly with a breathless “Yes,” and speak to a kind sounding DC Harris who takes the details and descriptions of Harry and Tom. He promises me that he will pass them onto the airport police and they will look out for them and try to detain them until I get there. When I ask what he means by “try“ he tells me that as Tom is Harry's father it does limit their powers on whether or not they can stop him, especially if Harry seems happy and Tom has his passport. The legal stuff is up to the courts, and as Tom is a lawyer he will already be more than aware of his rights; but the fact that Harry doesn't have Tom's name should help. My stomach hits the floor. Oh my God, he’s going to manage to leave here with my son. Not for long though. I will hunt the bastard down until I get my son back. If he thinks he is going to get away with it then he's got another think coming.

  We speed up the motorway in silence, apart from Lissa's continuous soft sobbing in the back. I so want to phone dad; I really need him right now. James as well, but I can't do that to either of them. What is the point in telling them right now? Neither of them can help at the moment; they won't gain anything from knowing, apart from a load of worry. I will phone them as soon as I know what's happening; time enough for worrying them later. As we roar into the airport less than an hour later, I sit up and get ready to run. Ben flies over the speed bumps and eventually pulls up with a screech of tyres in front of Terminal 1. His thinking is that this is the terminal they use when flying to America. It's safe to say Tom will too. I have my seatbelt off, and once again dive out of the car before we are fully stopped. I ru
n for the entrance and pelt through the doors knocking through startled passengers and sending luggage flying.

  Once inside I stop and try to calm myself long enough to scan the boards and try to figure out which desk I need. Ben pelts into me and starts scanning them as well. He must have just dumped the car and ran, but I'm glad that he's here with me.

  Ben spots desk number 33 has flights to New York and sets off at a run, dragging me behind him. We run wildly around like headless chickens, jumping up and down to see over people's heads shouting Harry's name at the top of our voices and generally causing chaos. People are moving swiftly away from us where they can, tutting and giving us bemused stares. Some swear and shout after us because we've pushed them or knocked over suitcases, or some such, but I couldn't give a toss. The only thing I'm focused on is finding my son, and God help anyone who gets in the way of that.

  After about a quarter of an hour of running from desk to desk and checking toilets, we wander despondently back to the main concourse to try and contact airport police. As I look over towards the coffee shop the sight of a particular looking man makes me do a double-take. The man is a long way away but he looks familiar and is carrying a young boy with dark hair. I grab Ben's arm and point in their direction. Ben strains his eyes as I do, but they have moved out of sight. Still, I feel something and right now that will do for me. I drag Ben after me as we break into a run once again and tear down the concourse to the coffee shop. I spot them again heading to the exit and scream Harry's name at the top of my voice. People jump away from me and stare as if I'm a lunatic. The man stops and turns and my heart flies into my mouth as I realise it’s James and, more to the point, he's carrying Harry.

  Harry shouts my name and James puts him down and lets him run. Harry flies across the distance between us and into my aching arms. I cry like a baby sobbing tears of joy into his soft dark head, then kiss him repeatedly all over his face until he squirms away, telling me to stop. I control myself and stop, but keep hold of him as I look him over to make sure he's ok. "Mum, what’s wrong with you? You’re acting soo weird," he informs me indignantly.