Given Time

by Anthony Burn

  I heard the mistake as soon as I said it, but it was too late to correct. Lauren leapt on it before I could take it back. ‘You did it to me. That means you never cared about me,’ she said, and turned to leave.

  ‘You know that’s not true,’ I said in a hurry. ‘You’re twisting my words. I love you more than I can ever tell you. I love you with all of my heart.’

  She spun back to face me. ‘They’re just words, Kee. How can I ever believe you after what you’ve done? You’re the one who’s twisted. If you really loved me, you could never have done anything like that. I can’t talk to you. I don’t know why I even bothered coming here. Why did I expect anything better from the son of a paedophile?’

  It was hard trying to keep up with the sudden changes of subject, but this one left me completely bewildered, and for the first time I was annoyed.

  ‘What on earth are you talking about?’ I asked, my voice clipped.

  ‘You know damn well what I’m talking about,’ she snapped. ‘Operation Yewtree. Your father raped Beth when she was fifteen years old.’

  The breath left my body in a violent gasp. Her words hit me with more pain than if she had delivered them with her fist. I had understood what she meant as soon as she had said it. Now my stepmother’s cryptic comment, and my father’s reaction to it, made complete sense. I slumped down onto the sofa, staring wildly at the floor while I grasped the ramifications of what Lauren had just told me.

  Operation Yewtree was the name given to the police enquiry set up in the wake of the Jimmy Savile scandal. After it was revealed that the prominent DJ and TV personality had been abusing children for decades, the police investigation checked into allegations made against other well-known celebrities, and some household names had been imprisoned for similar crimes. The name of the operation had been mentioned repeatedly in the news for many months.

  As far as I knew, the enquiry was only checking into establishment figures, but that had clearly made no difference to Beth. After years of torturing my dad for his crime, presumably by threatening to report him, the famous case had given her a name she could use to taunt him, another stick with which to beat him.

  I heard Lauren say, ‘Oh my God, you didn’t know. Kee, I’m so sorry,’ but I hardly took it in as I wondered how she had immediately comprehended the clues that had eluded me for all that time.

  Perhaps I had been too close to the problem to be able to see the full picture, but now it seemed completely obvious. Yet, as I thought about it, I considered the possibility that my father hadn’t known Beth was underage. Not that it mattered; in the eyes of the law it was still statutory rape. It would not have surprised me if my wicked stepmother had engineered the whole thing. Having seen his wealth as a meal ticket for life, she had set a honeytrap for my father and, having caught him, she had effectively held him prisoner under threat of exposure.

  It was hard to believe a fifteen-year-old could be that calculating, but it would explain why Dad lived in a virtual box room while she filled the rest of his house with expensive junk she didn’t need. I assumed my father had gone along with it to protect his name, but with mounting despondency I realised it might be that he wanted to safeguard the reputation of his family. In doing so, he had spared us years of inevitable humiliation. The idea that I might have inherited my father’s questionable morals flitted through my mind, as did the thought that witnessing both my mother’s and Beth’s vitriol during my formative years might have caused a subconscious hatred of women in me and led to my vile behaviour. Neither of those explanations felt right, but I didn’t have time to explore them further.

  Lauren had sat down on the sofa beside me, her eyes filled with concern. ‘Kee, I’m so sorry,’ she repeated. ‘That was crass of me. I was trying to score points, because I was sure you knew. I worked it out as soon as I read that your parents started arguing before your sixth birthday, making Beth fifteen at the time. I didn’t realise you hadn’t guessed. Please forgive me.’

  The combination of the anguish for my father, of having Lauren so close while being afraid to touch her and of her compassion for me in the face of the pain I’d caused her became too much to bear. I tried desperately to hold back, but the harder I fought the more torment I felt, until I couldn’t stop myself from breaking down. Lauren immediately cradled my head in her hands, and I sobbed against her shoulder.

  I put my arms around her, feeling each of her ribs even through her layers of clothing, and I recoiled slightly before replacing my hands to gently rub her back. In an instant my self-pity was replaced by self-loathing, and concern for the condition Lauren was in, caused by my actions. We held each other until the spasm passed, and as we loosened our grip I saw that the dampness of my cheeks was mirrored by hers. It felt natural to kiss her, but as I tried she pulled away.

  ‘I don’t want that yet,’ she said.

  I noticed her flinch, and saw a tiny show of panic in her eyes before she looked guiltily away. I guessed she hadn’t meant to say ‘yet’, but that tiny little word took on an importance well beyond its three letters; it opened up a whole world of hope.

  ‘I’m truly sorry, Lauren,’ I told her. ‘I love you so much. This is the last thing I would ever want to do to you.’

  She grimaced. ‘Tell me why, Kee. How could you hurt people like that?’

  I wanted to scream that no one was hurt, but I’d comprehensively lost that argument, and my answer was rueful. ‘I honestly didn’t think I was hurting anyone.’

  She shook her head, and I wasn’t sure if she was waiting for me to say more or whether she was thinking about how to respond. Deciding it was the latter I didn’t speak, and a long silence developed between us, which she eventually broke by asking, ‘Can we talk about my job? Is there any chance I could have it back?’

  ‘No, you can’t have it back,’ I said, ‘because you never lost it in the first place. I made you a promise a long time ago that the job was yours for as long as you want it, and it’s written in your contract.’

  ‘Yes, but I didn’t think you had to honour that because I walked out.’

  ‘I don’t care about that. Naturally you can go back to work, but I didn’t think you wanted to.’

  ‘I thought I didn’t, but I can’t do nothing. I love my job. I couldn’t go back to being an assistant at another gallery after I’ve run my own… Sorry, I mean yours.’ She dropped her eyes, and I reminded her that it was ours, not mine. She swallowed, and lowered her voice further. ‘Would I still be able to run it?’

  ‘Why wouldn’t you?’ I asked. ‘That’s your job.’

  ‘But you’ve already replaced me.’

  It took me by surprise that she knew about Ellen and Mark, but they would have been visible from the street, so I guessed she’d been past the gallery without anyone knowing.

  ‘I haven’t replaced you,’ I told her. ‘I’ve taken on additional staff. We were getting very busy before you left, so there’s more than enough work for everyone.’

  ‘Thank you… I wanted to ask you something else, but I don’t know if I can.’

  ‘Try me,’ I said, daring to hope she might want a reconciliation.

  She looked out of the window at the night sky for several long seconds, and then without turning back to me, she said, ‘I know you haven’t been to the gallery for some time… This is going to sound awful, but would it be possible to ask you to stay away?’

  My face dropped and I sagged in my seat as the glimmer of hope faded. I wanted to argue, but with everything I’d done, I owed her that much. Besides, I needed her to see that I genuinely was a good guy, and then maybe at some stage she would relent. I said, ‘It’ll tear me apart, but if that’s really what you want I’ll agree to it.’

  Her moist eyes met mine again and her face conveyed genuine surprise at my assent. Unable to find her voice, she mouthed a thank you.

  ‘Lauren, if you want I’ll give you the gallery. I’ll sign it all over to you, then you can do whatever you want with it.’

/>   Her expression changed from amazement to agitation and she shook her head almost imperceptibly.

  ‘I’m only trying to show you how much I love you, and that you can trust me,’ I explained. ‘In fact, if you were to give me a second chance, I’d let you have everything – the gallery, the apartment and all of the money. Then if I ever hurt you again, which I promise you I won’t, you could kick me out with nothing.’

  She grimaced. ‘Oh my God, Kee. You can be such a fucking wanker. If you did that, I’d never know if you loved me or if you were just keeping me sweet so you didn’t lose everything. You can’t buy trust, you have to earn it. In any event, I don’t want any more of your stolen money.’

  ‘It’s not stolen,’ I protested. ‘You know I won it on—’

  ‘You did not fucking win it!’ she bellowed, her temper flaring again.

  I held up my hands in surrender. Clearly it was another sore point for her, and I didn’t want to antagonise her further, so I prepared to listen to her argument even if I didn’t agree with it. ‘Lauren, I can tell I’m in the wrong again, but I don’t know why,’ I said. ‘I want you to explain, but please, I beg you, don’t shout at me.’

  She eyed me suspiciously, and then her expression changed to concern. ‘Are you that fragile?’ she asked.

  I nodded. ‘I’m feeling very vulnerable. I hate upsetting you.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll try not to shout,’ she said with a tiny flicker of a smile, ‘but honestly, Kee, you must know you didn’t win that money. You cheated, so it doesn’t belong to you and that makes it stolen.’

  ‘Yes, I admit I cheated with the numbers, but I still bought a ticket and played their game. They were happy to give me the money and there weren’t any other winners, so who did I steal it from?’

  She shook her head, a jaded expression on her face. ‘The next real winner. If you hadn’t got the money, they would have had the extra ninety-five million in their winnings. It belongs to them because they played fair and square.’

  ‘Maybe, but I’m sure whoever they are, they’re happy with what they won. They don’t even know it should have been more, so they can’t possibly think they’ve lost out.’

  ‘Oh my God, that’s your answer for everything, isn’t it?’ The exasperation was creeping back into her voice. ‘If your victims don’t know about it, then you haven’t committed a crime. Well you’re wrong, Kee. And it’s even worse than that. You’ve given your ill-gotten gains to your family, as well as to me and my family, which means we’ve all received stolen money. You’ve turned us all into criminals.’

  I’d been prepared to disagree with her, and to remind her of all the people that had benefitted, but found I couldn’t. Everything she said was true. I’d helped Drew and Amy to fulfil their dreams, Lauren to have her own gallery and, through her, all of the emerging artists, but it was all built on the back of my crime. I thought I’d been doing good, but now I felt ashamed. ‘I’ve got it all wrong, haven’t I? No wonder you hate me.’

  ‘I don’t know what to think about it. I’m being totally hypocritical for wanting to carry on with my job when I know it’s based on the proceeds of theft, so I’m in no position to condemn you about the money, but it still makes me feel very grubby.’

  I stared at the floor. ‘I’m so sorry, Lauren. How can I make this right?’

  ‘It’s not that easy, Kee. You really should be punished for the awful things you’ve done but, as you say, nobody knows about them, so there’s no evidence against you. I think the least you should do is to try and make amends somehow.’

  ‘Tell me how and I’ll do it.’

  She stared out of the window once more while she thought about it for a long time, and I was beginning to think she wasn’t going to speak again when she said, ‘There’s lots of refuges for battered and abused women all over the country. I think it would be fitting if you gave the money to them.’

  ‘Yes, that’s a very good idea,’ I replied, and meant it.

  ‘You should do it anonymously, though. I don’t want you being lauded as some great philanthropist.’

  I nodded my understanding. ‘I’ll find out how to set it up.’

  Astonishment spread across her features. ‘Are you really prepared to do that?’

  I confirmed I was, and explained that I’d been getting fed up with the money sitting in my bank and not knowing what to do with it. The chance to do something properly altruistic came as a positive relief, and I had no misgivings about doing so anonymously. ‘Is there any chance I can put things right with you too?’ I pleaded.

  ‘I don’t know, Kee,’ she said. ‘This is so fucked up. Now I know about what you’ve done, I came here expecting to see the monster, but you’re still being the same considerate guy I’ve always known. I can’t get my head around it, because I’ve got no memories of the things you did to me. I only know it happened because I read about it. I wish you could tell me you made it all up.’

  ‘I wish I could too, but you’d know it was a lie, and I couldn’t live with that any more than you could. I can tell you this: the guy you hate is gone, I promise. I hate him just as much as you do, maybe even more, but he’s never coming back.’

  ‘You can’t say that for sure. That guy is you, Kee.’

  ‘He was me, but I’ve changed. Can I explain something to you?’

  She nodded so I said, ‘Don’t get alarmed, but there was another device.’

  She gave an angry sigh, and started getting to her feet, so I quickly added, ‘It’s in the river too.’ She stopped, and I explained about having thrown it away and the immediate change I’d felt afterwards.

  ‘Are you suggesting that it was controlling you?’

  ‘No. Not at all.’

  ‘Good, because if you were trying to shift the blame, I would leave right now.’

  ‘No, I know I’m fully responsible for everything I did. The device only turned back time. It didn’t make me do anything. I did everything knowing what I was doing, but it was almost like I couldn’t stop myself. Like a kind of madness, or as though I was drunk on the power it gave me.’

  ‘But you say you don’t feel like that now?’ she asked.

  ‘No, I’m appalled by it all. I never want to do anything like it again.’

  ‘I really want to believe that, Kee, but I just don’t know.’

  ‘I know. I understand, but I’ll do anything to prove it to you. Anything you ask.’

  We talked it through for another forty minutes, discussing whether or not a person could change so completely; if someone suffering from a mental illness or addiction could really be blamed for their actions and whether they should still be condemned once the affliction was over. We debated whether any of that applied to me, and if the act of throwing away the device could really have cured me in the way I believed it had. After we’d exhausted all the possibilities I pleaded with her again. ‘Please give me another chance. I love you.’

  ‘I don’t know, Kee. I really don’t. I loved you with all my heart, but I hate you for what you’ve done. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, but you were the very worst thing too.’

  Her voice had been catching as she spoke and her eyes had welled up. ‘I hate being on my own and I hate living with all this pain, but I’m not sure I can trust you again. I don’t know what to do,’ she said, and began to cry.

  I pulled her into an embrace and stroked her stubbly head, feeling terrible for the distress I’d caused but elated for the possibility that I might be winning her round.

  ‘I’ve missed you so much,’ I told her.

  She clung harder to me, and spoke over my shoulder. ‘It could never be the same. This would always be between us.’

  ‘I know, but it will fade. Relationships change anyway. Even if we don’t get it back to the way it was, we can still make it work. Please, Lauren, say you’ll give it a try.’

  ‘I don’t know, Kee. There’s a tiny part of me that wants to say yes, but I’m really scared and I don’t k
now if I trust my feelings right now. I’m not making any promises, but let me think about it on my own for a few days, okay?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s fine. Whatever you want.’ I pulled back from the embrace and tried to kiss her, but she turned the side of her face towards me. I pecked her cheek, feeling her bone against my lips, and the guilt rose up inside me again. ‘Just say that you will talk to me again… please?’

  She smiled at me wanly. ‘We’ll see.’

  Thirty-five

  I woke up the following morning feeling more positive than I had done in weeks. For the first time in what seemed like forever, I wanted to get up and was enthusiastic about starting the day. I hadn’t got any particular plans, but it seemed like an opportune time to be making some that included Lauren again.

  Kicking the covers off the bed, I leapt up and sauntered towards the bathroom, but halfway to the door I was distracted by a shard of mirrored light that darted across the room, and I turned towards the window instead. The heavy clouds that had stifled the sky for so many days were beginning to break and melt away, allowing glimpses of sunlight to penetrate the gloom, evaporating the grey of the buildings and bouncing reflections off the windows opposite. I looked down at the river and watched uncharacteristic patches of blue chase across its familiar mottled surface. The water sparkled, while the air seemed cleaner and freshly invigorated, lightening my spirits and helping to increase my hopefulness. It seemed like a good day to be optimistic.

  My gaze drifted towards Tower Bridge and I noticed that the bascules, which had recently been raised to allow a tall sailing boat through, were beginning their slow descent. It was a sight I’d seen hundreds of times, but even so I had never been able to turn my eyes away until the operation had finished. As the bascules dropped gently back into place, I thought about the last things Lauren had said before she left. She still needed time to think about her decision, but I was convinced she had seen my sincerity and that somewhere deep down she wanted to be a part of my life again as much as I wanted her. If she gave me another chance to talk it through with her, I felt sure that I could persuade her to come back. I would nurse her back to full health, and together we would fade the memories of the troubles I had put her through. I was confident that in due course we could put it all behind us. Looking again at the jewelled surface of the Thames, its dazzling crests seemed to promise a brighter future, and I imagined I could feel as much as see the water passing under the bridge.