by Susan Lewis
‘What the fuck are you looking at?’ he said irritably.
‘I don’t know,’ she answered. ‘What’s happened to you?’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, a typical Shelley comment if ever I heard one. Why can’t you be your own person for once?’
‘Bob, what have I done to make you hate me like this?’
His eyes were refusing to meet hers, but she could see them burning up with frustration, which told her that though he didn’t appear drunk, this wine was probably topping up more than a few shots of gin. ‘What you did with the bank,’ he mumbled. ‘You’ve really fucked me up.’
‘Bob, you left me for a girl barely out of a gym slip,’ she reminded him sharply, ‘a girl who I trusted every bit as much as I trusted you, so do you seriously think I give a damn what you might be suffering now, because of the bank? And look at you! What the hell’s happened to you? You’re a mess!’
‘I don’t have any fucking money, that’s what’s happened to me!’ he yelled.
‘Not all your work’s dried up, you must be earning something … Or no, don’t tell me, what you are managing to get you’re spending on booze. Well, we’ve been down that road before, haven’t we? So let’s see how good Tessa is at bailing you out, shall we? She gets paid well, so …’
‘Don’t come your uppity fucking madam bit with me!’ he cried, slamming his fists on the table. ‘She doesn’t earn enough for us to get the kind of flat we should be in, and well you know it. So, OK, you want to gloat, you go right ahead and gloat, because you’re right, we’re squashed up in a shithole of a bedsit somewhere at the back end of nowhere, while you’re here in my home, sitting on my money …’
Fury blazed from her eyes. ‘This is my home,’ she seethed.
‘Wrong!’ he shouted.
‘It was a wedding present from my parents!’
‘But it’s in both our names. And I’ve checked with a lawyer. This flat is as much mine as it is yours, and I want to sell. I’ve got an estate agent coming round,’ he glanced at his watch, ‘in about twenty minutes.’
Allyson was white. Dimly she wondered how much more she could take. First her husband, then her job, now her home. Then suddenly she was on her feet. ‘Get out!’ she spat. ‘Just get the hell out of here and don’t contact me again unless it’s through a lawyer.’
‘I told you, I’ve got someone coming …’
‘I don’t give a damn who you’ve got coming. You won’t be here, so …’
‘I’m putting the country house on the market too.’
‘No!’ she cried. ‘You’ve got no right to do this.’
‘You’re the one who wants a divorce,’ he reminded her.
‘Because you left!’ she screamed. ‘Because you’re the one who’s sleeping with a kid half your age and you don’t care who knows it. And what about all the other women, Bob? What about all the years you deceived me, made a fool out of me? Everyone knew, didn’t they? Everyone, but me. So don’t come here snivelling to me now that you haven’t got any money. Because I couldn’t give a fuck. And answer me this, Bob. Where’s your precious little baby whore tonight? Why aren’t you with her, celebrating? Surely she told you she’s on the telly tonight. Hah, you didn’t know, did you? Seems like things are working out really well for you, Bob.’
‘Bitch!’ he snarled. His glass tipped over as he lunged across the table, but he didn’t reach her. ‘She told me,’ he spat.
‘Oh yeah, right,’ she said.
‘She told me!’ he thundered. This time the table skidded across the floor, and before she could move his hands were round her throat. ‘You bitch!’ he sobbed as he tried to choke her. ‘What are you doing to my life?’
‘Let go!’ she gasped. ‘Bob, let me go.’
‘Let her go!’ Shelley yelled, coming in the door.
His grip loosened and, struggling for breath, Allyson wrenched herself away and went to stand over the sink.
Bob and Shelley were motionless in the silence, both staring at Allyson, until Shelley turned to Bob and said, ‘Just go.’
Visibly shaken, and still breathing hard, he brushed past her and went to get his coat. ‘Tell her,’ he said, suddenly turning back at the door, ‘she’s got to sell. Tessa’s having a baby, we need a decent home.’
Shelley spun round to look at Allyson, then suddenly she was behind Bob, physically shoving him out of the door.
For a long time after he’d gone neither Allyson nor Shelley spoke. Shelley put an arm round Allyson’s shoulders, but though Allyson didn’t push her away, she didn’t welcome the comfort either. Her eyes were dry, the shock, the utter devastation, was almost palpable on her face. In those few short words Bob had not only annihilated any hope she could ever have that he might come back, he had destroyed the entire fabric of everything they had ever meant to each other. She was still reeling, hardly able to push past the numbing wall of pain and confusion. In a little less than eight months she would be forty, not too late to have children, but at about that time her husband, the man she wanted to have children with, would have one with somebody else. He would be at the bedside of … But even her rabid imagination shut down in the face of such unprecedented heartache.
Finally she turned to Shelley and said, ‘I’d like to be left alone now, if you don’t mind.’
Shelley’s arm was still round her. ‘Allyson, I…’
‘I’ll be OK,’ Allyson said, moving away. ‘I’ve got a lot of things to work out, and I’d like to be alone while I do it.’
Shelley looked deeply reluctant. ‘Please tell me you’re not planning to do anything …’
Allyson shook her head. ‘No. I’m …’ She took a breath, but no more words would come. It didn’t matter because she didn’t want to say any more. She didn’t want to let anything that was inside her go out into the world. She needed to be contained, apart, shut off from all the hurt that was trying to crush her, disconnected from those she had trusted and who were now betraying her.
‘Allyson,’ Shelley said again.
‘Just go,’ Allyson snapped, and turning away she walked along the hall to her bedroom, refusing to give Shelley the reassurance she was seeking. Let Shelley stew, and let the rest of the world go to hell, because right now she couldn’t think of a single reason to go on with her life, so she was damned if she was going to pretend to Shelley that there was one.
Bob was due back any minute, and Tessa knew that there was a very good chance he was going to be in a bad mood. He wouldn’t have enjoyed going to Allyson cap in hand for money, so she wouldn’t ask him how he’d got on straight away, especially not with Julian being here, because he probably wouldn’t want to discuss private matters in front of someone he’d never met before. And anyway, it could wait, because they were going to celebrate her first time on telly in a very special way, which was why she had invited Julian to come round.
She smiled at Julian, as he sifted through the CDs over on the sideboard and tried not to show how nervous he was. It was easy to make Julian do things, even when he didn’t want to. Her real brother hadn’t been like that. It had been the other way round with him, which was why she liked Julian so much. It was better being the one in charge. Before, everyone else had been in charge. Now she’d turned it all around.
As the opening bars of a Back Street Boys number began to play on the CD, Julian returned to the armchair he’d been sitting in earlier and attempted to beat time to the music. It wasn’t much of a cover, because his fingers were out of rhythm, and he still looked so anxious he might bolt any second. Tessa smiled again to put him at his ease, but it didn’t seem to work, and when the door suddenly opened and Bob came in Julian leapt straight to his feet.
Tessa was sitting on the sofa, her back to the door, her legs curled in under her. ‘Hi,’ she said, reaching a hand over her shoulder to Bob.
‘Who’s he?’ Bob demanded, glaring at Julian.
‘That’s Jules,’ Tessa informed him, giving Julian a wink.
Bob�
��s expression turned even uglier. ‘What’s he doing here?’
‘I can go,’ Julian said. ‘I just …’
‘No. Sit down,’ Tessa insisted, getting to her feet. ‘Bob, you old silly. Just calm down, will you? Let me get you a drink,’ and taking his hand she led him into the kitchen. ‘I taped the programme so you could see it,’ she told him, reaching into the cupboard for a fresh bottle of gin. ‘You got my message, didn’t you, telling you I was going to be on?’
‘What’s he doing here?’ Bob repeated.
Tessa turned and gazed up into his eyes. ‘I invited him,’ she said. ‘Now, don’t I get a kiss?’
He touched his lips to hers, but she caught his face in her hands and used her tongue to ease him gently into a calmer frame of mind.
‘Better?’ she said when she’d finished.
His eyes were less hostile now, and she could tell he was mildly aroused. ‘Where’s that drink?’ he said gruffly.
‘Coming right up.’ As she poured she slipped a hand between his thighs, then kept shooting him glances, until, rolling his eyes, he said, ‘OK, what are you up to? And what the fuck is he doing here?’
Tessa put her head back so he could kiss her again, which he did, groaning softly as her hand increased its pressure. ‘Get rid of him,’ he murmured. This was just the kind of antidote he needed to help settle him down after the nightmare he’d just been through.
‘I can’t do that,’ she said. ‘He’s here to, you know.’
No, he didn’t know.
‘You know, what we talked about,’ she said, handing him his drink.
He took a generous mouthful then looked at her again.
‘You know, me and you two,’ she giggled.
He was about to drink again, but at that he stopped. He didn’t speak for a moment, as his mind began playing with the recognition of her words. Then, to be certain he was understanding this correctly, he said, ‘Are you saying what I think you’re saying?’
She grinned. ‘He said he’ll do it.’
Bob’s eyes were bulging. Jesus Christ, she was serious. But the hell was he getting into anything like that, and slamming down his drink he marched back into the sitting room. ‘Time to go,’ he said to Julian. ‘There’s been a mistake …’
Tessa was right behind him, clutching his arm. ‘Bob! He’s my friend,’ she cried. ‘I invited him here.’
‘It’s OK,’ Julian said, grabbing his coat. ‘I’ve got to go. Really.’
‘No!’ Tessa protested. ‘It’s my big night, we’re supposed to be celebrating.’
Bob looked at her hot flushed cheeks and bright, feverish eyes. She really did want this.
‘You promised,’ she said sulkily to Julian.
‘Tessa. Can’t you see you’re embarrassing the boy,’ Bob barked.
She crossed swiftly to the door to block Julian’s way. ‘You promised,’ she repeated.
Julian looked helplessly at Bob.
Bob stared at them both, then suddenly he felt so exhausted, so battered by the entire craziness of the past two hours, that, unable to deal with this any more, he turned back into the kitchen. What was the point in fighting her? He had no intention of going along with it, so why was he wasting his energy protesting, when all he really wanted was to drink himself into oblivion in an effort to escape that abominably ugly scene with Allyson that kept playing itself over and over in his mind. Jesus Christ, it had all gone so horribly wrong, had soared so frighteningly out of his control that even now he couldn’t be sure how it had happened. Except Shelley being there had started it. He knew that much. If only Allyson hadn’t done that, but even the misery of having Shelley witness his humiliation was no excuse for the way he had ranted and raved at Allyson, tried to choke her, and had then thrown … His mind recoiled from the unspeakable cruelty of how he had told her about the baby. He was never going to be able to forgive himself for that, never, and he doubted she would either.
Filling a glass with gin he drank it down in one go, then filled the glass again. The shame was still there, crawling around all his excuses and forcing him to see himself for the weak, contemptible specimen he was, not only for the way he’d told her about the baby, but for the appalling self-delusion he’d gone in there with, when he’d actually thought he could enlist her help in extricating him from the terrible mess he’d got himself into. He’d even managed to convince himself that once she realized how bad things were for him she’d offer to give him the flat, for the baby’s sake of course, or maybe she’d work it all out so that he could go back to her and she would somehow take care of Tessa. Christ, what kind of idiot was he? And just what kind of fool did he take his wife for, to actually make himself believe that her kindness and compassion for others would extend itself to making a gift of her own home to the two people who had hurt her the most?
His heart was thudding beats of self-hatred, along with a hot, painful denial that he had actually done what he had. He drained another glass of gin in the hope that its burn would nullify the awful truth. The trouble was, Allyson had always understood in the past, had always been there to rescue him from the dark and tangled places he stumbled into without really knowing how. So he’d allowed himself to believe that she’d do it again. And he might have gone on believing it, had Shelley not been there to strip away the delusion and leave him staggering around blindly in the glaring reality of his madness. So really it was Shelley’s fault that everything had gone so disastrously wrong. And it was Allyson’s too, for letting Shelley be there.
Refilling his glass he walked unsteadily back into the sitting room, and blinked when he saw Julian instead of Tessa. ‘Like a drink?’ he said, trying to remember the boy’s name.
Julian looked undecided, so Bob went back to get him one anyway. He was finding it hard to get his mind round any kind of coherence now, there was so much going on in his head. Allyson, Shelley, Tessa, Julian. Every one of them was a problem, but though his thoughts seemed to start out all right, they kept losing direction and floundering off into areas of total confusion. And Allyson, God damn her, was so together over there it made him want to … He staggered back from the brink of that one, drank some more gin and lunged off in another direction that allowed him to concede that Allyson was probably hurting as much as he was, might even be missing him, but he only had to look at her to see how well she was handling it. She had everything. The flat. The money. A job. Friends. A wealthy family … And if she hadn’t pulled that stunt with the bank things might have been different for him. So whichever way he looked at it, whatever sympathy he tried to muster for the way she might be feeling, he always ended up in the same damned place, that the horrendous mess he was in was all thanks to her.
Picking up the drinks he carried them through to where Julian was still sitting stiffly on the edge of the sofa. ‘Where’s Tessa?’ he slurred, handing Julian a glass.
‘In the bedroom,’ he answered.
Bob looked at the door and tried to focus. Then he suddenly remembered the purpose of Julian being here, and, turning to look at the boy again, he almost laughed. Christ, the whole thing was so bizarre. Here he was, the famous Bob Jaymes, a man of wealth and property, stuck in Peckham with no money, a pregnant teenager and the other half of the teenager’s whim.
He slumped down in a chair and continued to stare at Julian, watching him squirm and doubting very much that the kid had the guts to do what Tessa wanted. ‘So, have you ever done anything like this before?’ Bob asked, nodding towards the bedroom.
Julian shook his head. He tried to drink and it dribbled down his chin. ‘I – I’m a virgin,’ he said.
Bob blinked as though he hadn’t heard right, then suddenly he wanted to laugh again. But the urge was obscured by a confusion he could find no shape to. He drank more gin. Everything was starting to feel strange, kind of distorted and … He tried to get to his feet, but the ground was moving … He tried again. This time he made it, but as he lurched upright the walls seemed to be closing in on him.
‘Are you all right?’ he heard Julian ask.
He looked down at the boy, whose pale, anxious face was rotating in a blurry kind of cloud. ‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ he slurred. ‘I just need some air.’
As the door closed behind him Julian heard him stumble on the stairs and swear crudely. Then a few seconds later the front door slammed shut. Julian looked over at the bedroom and wondered what Tessa was doing. He felt uneasy, as though he was a part of something he didn’t understand. He got to his feet and went to the window. The street outside was dark and empty. No sign of Bob. He wondered what he should do. He hadn’t really wanted to come here, but Tessa had been so insistent, and on such a high after her first transmission, that he just hadn’t been able to say no. He turned to look at the bedroom door again. He could hear her moving around, and suddenly her promise of sex, of allowing him to take part in her most treasured fantasy, as she’d called it, seemed to have a dark, unnerving edge to it. It wasn’t right. Nothing about this was right, from Bob being so drunk, to his own ludicrous presence here. Then, like Bob, he suddenly needed some air, and before he could get sucked any further into the bewildering depths of whatever was going on, he snatched up his coat and left.
In the bedroom Tessa was carefully folding her clothes. Today had been such a great day, and now tonight was going to be even better. She felt flooded with fondness for Bob, and for Julian – and kind of edgy and excited about what they were all going to do. She was even starting to toy with the fantasy of having Julian move in with them when she and Bob finally went to live in that enormous flat on Cheyne Walk. She wasn’t quite sure how Bob had handled that yet. It could be that Allyson would prefer to sell the flat and give Bob his share of the money, rather than move out so that Bob and Tessa could move in. Tessa could hardly blame her for that, though she’d definitely prefer to live there, given the choice.
‘OK, I’m ready,’ she called out, turning to look at herself in the mirror. She smoothed a hand over the small mound of her belly. She’d always been that shape, so couldn’t claim that it was the baby starting to show.