Don't Tell Meg Trilogy Box Set

by Paul J. Teague

  ‘It wasn’t Glenn Elliot in the house was it? The estate agent? Doesn’t he drive a BMW?’

  The two police officers shuffled nervously and looked at each other.

  ‘As I say, sir, we can’t discuss any details at the moment. But we do need to ask you some questions, if we may?’

  I was used to this drill. I looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. I was mindful of Alex’s arrival, and I needed to get those sheets sorted out too.

  ‘Can we do it here? It won’t be long will it?’

  ‘It won’t take long, sir. We need to get an idea of your whereabouts and who has access to the property.’

  The sooner we did this the better. I was never going to sell this bloody property now, not with another death there. I’d have to investigate those ‘we’ll buy any crappy house’ websites, there had to be some fool out there who’d take it off my hands.

  The copper used an electronic device to take my statement. I expressed an interest in it – surely the police hadn’t moved to cool electronic notepads? No such luck. The poor guy had to click the letters on the keypad one by one. It was slower than a pen and paper.

  There was nothing much to worry about in there. Who had keys to the property? Me, the estate agent, presumably Meg still had a set. Had I been to the property? No, not since I cleared my stuff out. Had Meg been to the property? Ask Martin Travis, our marriage counsellor, but I assumed not. Had anything suspicious happened recently in relation to the house? No, nothing other than the usual oddballs. The police would have their own records on that. Had I met anyone suspicious? I mentioned JD, my weirdo letter writer, but they knew about that already. There was nothing more to tell as far as I was concerned.

  Eventually they went. I was tighter for time than I would have liked, but Becky had clearly been keeping an eye out and she returned with fresh sheets about ten minutes after they left.

  ‘What was that all that about?’ she asked. ‘Everything okay?’

  ‘Yes, yes, just a bit of a problem I’ve had in the past. They needed to follow up on something. Nothing to worry about.’

  She paused a moment after I answered, as if she was deciding what to ask next. As far as I was aware, Becky knew nothing about me. She wasn’t local, I was some guy that she’d met and shagged on a holiday park.

  ‘I brought my sheets,’ she said, handing them over. ‘They’re not entirely clean, but then that shouldn’t bother you too much after what we did last night.’

  She smiled and I returned the gesture, thinking about what we’d done together. That had been hot. I felt a slight stirring in my boxers, looking over to the sofa and picturing her with her bare legs pulled up, everything on view.

  Alex. I had to focus on Alex.

  ‘Thanks for the sheets. Okay if I look you up when my friend has gone? I had a great time last night, it would be nice to take you out for a meal maybe, get to know you better.’

  ‘That’d be nice,’ she replied, touching my arm. ‘I’d love that, Peter ... Pete.’

  That was strange. She knew I was Pete, why had she used Peter? I was only Peter on the radio. I let it slide, maybe she knew another Peter, I didn’t have time to ask.

  ‘You’ve got my number, text me when your friend leaves. Have a nice time!’

  She was on her way. I was pleased that it wasn’t going to be messy. No clinging, no asking if she could tag along with Alex and me. She’d taken it at face value, a very nice and sexy encounter. But she wasn’t acting like my wife.

  I hurriedly put the sheets on the bed, made a pig’s ear of getting the cover on the quilt and tried to make it look as if nothing had happened in that room. The smells of the night before had gone, so I shut all the windows and did a final check. When I’d slept with Ellie, I’d been embarrassed by a discarded bra. It wouldn’t be a tragedy if Alex found any evidence of my encounter with Becky, we were only pals now, after all. But I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable about it. I was forty, we weren’t teenagers accidentally-on-purpose leaving evidence of our conquests so that all our pals knew what we’d been up to.

  Happy that the house was clear, I checked that Becky had locked the rear door before I left. It was still open. I was pleased I’d checked that, after my previous incident with the unlocked door.

  I set off through the campsite, driving over the regular speed humps at the prescribed 10mph. As I passed the office, Vicky spotted me and waved me down to stop. I looked at the clock on my dashboard, she’d need to be quick.

  ‘Morning, Pete luv, everything alright? The police were here earlier asking for your pitch number. Did they find you okay?’

  She was snooping. Fair enough, she wouldn’t want the cops around every five minutes. It was supposed to be a holiday camp after all.

  ‘It’s all fine, thanks Vicky. It won’t happen again. A problem up at the house, nothing to do with me.’

  If only I’d known when I said those words. How wrong could I have been? It was only just beginning. And the next time the police visited the Golden Beaches Holiday Park, the problem would be closer to home.

  Alex was waiting outside the station when I got there. I was annoyed with myself about that, I’d wanted to meet her off the train. By the time the cops were done, Becky had gone on her way, and Vicky had got her fill of gossip, I was ten minutes late.

  ‘Hi Alex, I’m so sorry I’m late. I got delayed.’

  ‘No worries,’ she said, standing up to embrace me. ‘I got recognised by some old couple, they were very nice.’

  We hugged for a moment. It felt comfortable, natural, as if we’d never left off. It was well over twelve years since Alex and I had been together as a couple. In the meantime, I’d had a relationship with Meg – a marriage. It seemed so long ago. Yet standing there, holding each other, it felt like no time at all.

  ‘It’s good to see you, Alex, really good. You look amazing!’

  It’s difficult to tell how people really look when you usually see them on the telly. There’s lighting and make-up at work, and for all I’d known, Alex might have really aged. As it turned out, she’d barely changed. She’d discovered the secret of eternal youth. I wasn’t so sure how I was faring on that front.

  ‘You look tired, Pete,’ she said, giving me a searching look. ‘Is everything okay?’

  I didn’t really want to get too deep in too soon. Would I mention the body at the house? The newspaper boards would carry the story from midday, maybe not quite so fast on a Saturday, but there would be no hiding it.

  ‘Shall we grab a coffee?’ I said.

  ‘Yes, I’m gasping for a drink. Why does everything go to pot at the weekends? Travel any other day and there’s a buffet service, travel on a Saturday or Sunday and it’s post-apocalyptic. You have to scavenge for resources.’

  I laughed at that and picked up her bag. It was heavy.

  ‘You planning on staying long?’ I asked. ‘This is quite a weight!’

  Alex shrugged it off, and we made for the nearest coffee shop.

  Having navigated the complex menu of coffee options, most of which I’d never even heard of, I settled for a white coffee, no sugar. Nothing fancy.

  Alex went posh, she had an espresso Ristretto.

  ‘What on earth is that?’ I asked, taking the mickey out of her. ‘You posh London types, that’s a month’s mortgage payment in the north!’

  ‘You’ve got to enjoy your coffee, Pete. Look at you, you’d still be supping Nescafé instant if you could!’

  ‘That’s what I’ve got at home. Should I have employed a barista for the weekend and invested in some coffee-making equipment?’

  ‘No, I’m not that posh! I need a shot of strong coffee, it’s been a busy week at work, I’m ready for this visit. It’s great to see you, Pete. I really mean that.’

  She squeezed my arm. It was great to see her too. We’d already slipped into that easy way that we’d always had. Our relationship had moved online since I’d met Meg. I’d not thought that much about Alex since Meg an
d I got together, why would I? But when you share five years of your life with someone, you don’t just switch them off.

  In days gone by, people married the first person they met. These days, we have all sorts of relationships: flings, affairs, marriages, living together. We carry debris along with us, the remains of failed relationships. When you fall in love, those relationships don’t just go away. Feelings remain, memories linger. Often you can’t recapture something that you loved about an old relationship with a new lover. Maybe you crave that feeling sometimes. It’s only if you’ve never been with somebody else that you don’t experience that.

  It was all coming back to me with Alex now. I felt as if I’d travelled back in time. It was always so easy, so uncomplicated with her. Yet, we’d drifted apart, it was never meant to be. Had she settled down? Did she have a new partner? I hadn’t got a clue. She’d tell me if she wanted me to know.

  ‘How are you now, after what happened?’

  Well, she was a journalist by profession, there was no reason for me to expect her to make small talk for much longer.

  ‘Crikey, you don’t hang around, do you?’

  ‘I want to know, Pete. I was part of it too, remember. It was me who got Jason killed ...’

  She blamed herself for that. It wasn’t her fault, how could it have been? She was helping me, watching my back. She’d sent Jason to keep an eye on the house when Meg had been abducted by Tony Miller. She’d told him not to intervene, but he had after he heard shouting. It was not Alex’s fault that Jason died. It was his mistake, he was the one who went into the house and got himself pounded by a baseball bat and his throat cut.

  ‘It’s not brilliant, to be honest with you, Alex. It could be better.’

  I was welling up, getting emotional. I’d had nobody to share all these upheavals with, except for my counsellor, Blake Crawford. I’m British, I keep my feelings hidden.

  I went on to tell Alex everything: my money worries, my frustration over not being able to talk to Meg, my dislike of my job, and my feelings of being completely shafted and trapped. I went on to talk about the body that had been found at the house and the complete mess that I was in. I neglected to mention JD, the single mums and Becky. It was good to get it all out, but I wasn’t opting for full transparency. Some things could wait until later.

  ‘Jesus, Pete, that’s quite a shit list. I didn’t realise everything was so messed up.’

  ‘How is it you never swear on TV?’ I asked. ‘You’ve still got a mouth like a sewer.’

  We laughed at that. I know I’m the same. I’m sure the strain of having to watch what you say on the radio or TV makes journalists swear more than the average person. It has to work its way out somehow.

  ‘Look, Pete, let’s try and enjoy this weekend. I’ve got stuff going on that I want to talk about too. No dead bodies, you’ll be pleased to hear. But life stuff, career things. I want to talk to you ... you always were my best friend, Pete. I’ve missed you.’

  Then she said it. We hadn’t talked about it for years.

  ‘You know, we could have a teenager now, Pete, if things had been different. Can you imagine that? I wonder what our lives would be like.’

  I felt as if I was on the Jeremy Kyle Show. Tears came into my eyes again as I thought about the baby that we’d lost to a miscarriage. How long ago was it now? She was right, we’d be the parents of a teenager. How weird would that have been?

  Her eyes were red. She’d got emotional too, thinking about what we’d been through together. It was a difficult time and eventually resulted in us drifting apart. I thought I’d got over it, but I guess that never happens. We put the bad stuff in a box and only bring it out occasionally, a bit like all the crap I had in storage. But sometimes, when you bring a box out, it can trigger something new – Meg’s secret photos, for instance.

  I was ready for this weekend with Alex. I sensed that we were both ready for it. I took her hand and squeezed it gently. It was so good to see my friend again.

  Alex and I picked up where we’d left off. She loved the static caravan. She’d never been in one before.

  ‘This is amazing!’ she declared when we walked inside. ‘How do they fit everything in? It’s like the Tardis!’

  ‘I know, I know, they cost nothing to rent and it’s very much like a house. You have to keep them heated in winter, but look, I’ve even got radiators.’

  Alex walked through the caravan, commenting on the built-in units and space that I’d got.

  ‘I think it’s amazing, Pete. I love it. I didn’t think they were as good as this. I assumed they were like regular caravans, but without the wheels. What a great place to live.’

  I pointed out the entertainments complex in the distance, pointing through the window across the park.

  ‘They’ve got everything you need here, Alex. There’s even a swimming pool if you want to use it. Do you still swim?’

  ‘I do, actually. Got to keep in shape for the telly. Ever since everybody got HD TVs, you can’t get away with a trick! Where’s my room, by the way? I’ll get rid of this case.’

  I showed Alex to her room. There were towels laid out on the bed, wrapped in plastic, as the cleaners had left them.

  ‘Wow, you even get room service!’ Alex laughed. ‘I could get used to this.’

  Alex’s career had rocketed since we’d gone our separate ways, but I was pleased to see that she was exactly the same woman that I’d known before I met and married Meg. There was no edge to her, she didn’t look down her nose at how I was living my life or how my career had barely progressed. She took everything as it was, with no judgment. I felt instantly nourished by her presence.

  ‘What do you fancy doing today?’ I asked. ‘Are you knackered from the journey or are you up for a night on the town?’

  ‘I’m good,’ she replied. ‘I’m tired, but I’ve got some time off work. Let’s have a good time, it’s been far too long since we did this.’

  She was right. But how could I have ever gone away for a weekend with Alex, my former lover and the mother of our child, the child that was never born? It would have been too dangerous for Meg to accept, and that’s fair enough. She always saw Alex as a threat, so we’d cooled off, reduced our relationship to online chats. There was barely a day that went by when I didn’t hear from Alex. I’d never really thought about that, I accepted it as how things were.

  But now I was a free agent again. I didn’t have to conceal my history with Alex from my wife. I hadn’t a clue how things would work out with Meg, but after so many months of being incommunicado, I’d begun to accept the possibility that she no longer wanted me in her life.

  ‘How do you fancy a night out drinking and hitting a club? Nothing too noisy, but I can’t remember the last time I went to a club.’

  ‘You’re on! It’ll be nice to spend an evening away from the celebrity pool. Some of them can be complete wankers!’

  So that was it. We spent the rest of the afternoon chatting and catching up on old times. We didn’t dwell on the sad bits, we had enough time together, we’d catch up on all that later. We even fitted in a game of Scrabble on the new board that I’d picked up at the supermarket in honour of her visit. The evil cow still beat me, I could never match her word power.

  We got changed. I booked a taxi and we walked over to the shop and office block to await pick-up. It was a bit of a hike into town. The taxi would cost over thirty quid, but I wasn’t going to ruin the night by not being able to have a drink.

  There was no sign of Vicky when we got to the office area, and I was pleased that Alex would get a night off from her before she had to do the celebrity thing. As we walked through the campsite, a couple of people did a double-take.

  ‘Is that that Alex woman off the telly? You know, the crime one?’

  ‘Wasn’t that Alex thingamajig from the police programme?’

  ‘Don’t you get pissed off with all that, Alex?’ I asked. It was one of the reasons why I’d avoided telly. I like m
y anonymity. I’d written a letter to Blue Peter many years ago, hoping to become a presenter. By the time I’d reached the age of thirty, and had some rudimentary experience of what was involved, I was pleased that I’d stayed on radio.

  ‘Sometimes,’ she replied. ‘It can really mess up an evening if you run into a weirdo. And ever since Jill Dando died ... well, it worries me sometimes, you never know who’s out there. But it kind of goes with the territory. It pays well. Not that I have anybody to spend it with.’

  This was my cue. It was none of my business, but I wanted to know what Alex had been up to since she moved to London.

  ‘So you haven’t met anyone yet? I thought I’d seen you photographed with Johnny Richardson recently. Didn’t it work out?’

  ‘Johnny Richardson is gay!’ she laughed. ‘Don’t tell anyone that, please. He hasn’t come out yet. Not in public anyway. His family knows. But he’s the hard man on Colchester Road, he can’t let on he’s gay. He’s good company, it keeps the press at bay and it suits us both. He’s a nice guy. It stops all the lesbian conjecture. It’s pretty horrible being a woman in the spotlight, actually.’

  I didn’t watch Colchester Road. Soap operas aren’t my thing, but I knew of Johnny. I’d never have guessed that he was gay. But then, I was the guy who thought Martin Travis wanted to shag Meg and completely missed that he swung the other way.

  ‘To be honest with you, Pete, I never really found anyone else after you and me. I know it’s long over now, but part of me wishes ... Well, part of me wishes that we hadn’t lost the baby, that maybe we’d stayed together and things had worked out for us. Do you know what I mean?’

  I’d never really thought about it like that. Perhaps I’d been lucky, I always felt like the one who’d been left behind. While my career had ticked along, Alex had achieved amazing things. I’d been happy with Meg for almost a decade, I’d barely glanced in the rear-view mirror. It was only now that I was questioning my choices. Part of me wanted to patch things up with Meg. I wanted my old life back.