by Laura Burton
‘Wait, I think I remember seeing you last night in Bristol?’ he said looking back at Tom, a flash of recognition crossed his face.
‘Oh yes, and I’ve seen you before in the coffee shop on Park Street,’ I continued. He looked impressed.
‘I don’t remember that,’ he said thoughtfully, his heavy eyebrows knitted together in thought. My knees were weak and the knots in my stomach had untangled into squirming snakes, making me feel slightly nauseated. It was so surreal to see this mystery man again, and in my parents’ house of all places!
‘Well, I have a few clients in Clifton, so I’m in Bristol from time to time,’ he explained. We sat down, Tom took my hand, but I brushed him away, staring at Jack with complete awe, soaking in everything he said.
’So, you are an accountant?’ I asked, broaching for more information. Jack settled down in his chair in the corner and rested his elbows on his thighs as he leaned forward in conversation.
‘Yes, I run an accountancy in Reading, my work usually leads me to various parts of the country as I like to visit my clients. We offer a more personal service,’ he explained in his low, calming voice.
‘I bet you’re good with numbers then,’ I said with a laugh. I noticed my mother roll her eyes to the side of me; Tom didn’t move a muscle, he was sat far too straight, clutching his knees in silence. Jack gave a polite smile. ‘Yes, I’m pretty good,’ he answered, looking at Tom with total satisfaction. The look to say, ‘your girlfriend is more interested in talking to me.’ I gave Tom a guilty glance, he was unaware of me, staring directly at Jack, like a bull watching the Matador who is teasing him with a red cape.
There was an uncomfortable silence in the room when my mother jumped to her feet and announced that the scones would be ready. She left the room and motioned for me to follow, ‘Excuse me,’ I muttered as I followed her out of the room.
‘So, Tom, how long have you known my daughter?’ my father’s voice trailed after me. I felt my face grow crimson red and thanked my mother for taking me out of that awkward conversation.
The kitchen was small, with only enough room for a small round breakfast table on one side and a U-shape kitchen area on the other. The cabinets were white with wooden worktops and all of mum’s china was laid out on the sides. The small cooker was lit up and beeping, my mother opened the door and pulled out a tray of freshly baked scones and placed them on the oven hob to cool. She turned to me with her oven gloves still on and grinned.
‘What do you think then? Isn’t he just gorgeous!’ she said quickly, swooning.
‘Oh, well, he’s very sweet,’ I answered slowly, thinking about Tom. ‘I don’t know if he’s a bit tall for me,’ I continued. My mother shook her head, her pencil eyebrows furrowed. ‘No, darling, not Him – our lovely accountant, Jack! What do you think of him?’
‘Oh!’ was all I could say, blushing slightly.
‘You’re not dating that Reverend, are you?’ she asked, repulsed at the thought. I stood up straight and frowned at her,
‘Well, we went on a date last night, but I don’t see what’s the problem with-’ I started to say, but my mother gasped in her dramatic way, her green eyes bulging.
‘No, you did not! What have I told you, Dee? Never date someone you work with! And never date a Reverend! Do you go to church? Do you want the responsibility that comes with being a Reverend’s wife? Honestly, Dee, do you have any idea what you are doing?’ She ranted at me. The hairs stood up on my arms at her words. How dare she? Who was she to lecture me over who I date? The fact that she had a few points that I had not considered, didn’t matter in the long run. This was about principle, and the very fact that she didn’t approve of Tom, made him suddenly a lot more appealing to me.
‘I like him, Mum,’ I began defiantly. ‘He and I can talk about anything together, we laugh together and he’s so romantic! You should listen to his sermons, his charisma, and charm-’
‘I laugh and talk with my dog, but it doesn’t mean it would be right for me to kiss him, or to marry the thing,’ shot back my mother. I stared coldly at her, affronted by her scolding attitude. She was rarely like this to me, last time I witnessed this sort of third degree was when she found out I was voting for the Green Party in the General Election.
‘Look, Mum, we’ve been on one date, there’s no need to worry about whether I’m going to marry Tom,’ I said reasonably, watching my mother furiously set the scones on the two-china cake stands sitting on the side. A tiny shriek of laughter escaped her painted lips, and she stopped to look at me with disbelief.
‘A woman knows within the first 10 minutes of being with a man, whether she wants to spend the rest of her life with him or not,’ she stated seriously.
‘Oh please, just because you were besotted with Dad from the moment you met, doesn’t mean the rest of the human race follows that rule,’ I scoffed, walking to the fridge and pulling out the tub of clotted cream.
‘Don’t give me that, Audrey,’ I was in serious trouble now that my birth name was being mentioned. I took out the jam from the fridge and emptied it into a china dish next to the cake stands. My mother flicked the kettle on and looked at me seriously, her hands on her little hips.
‘You have no idea about love; you also have no idea what you want, I’m telling you this because I’m your mother. What are you doing with a scarecrow like him, when you could be with your true soul mate!’
‘Oh, and you think Jack is my soul mate, do you?’ I shot back, louder. ‘That’s ridiculous; we have only just met! How can you believe in such ludicrous nonsense?’ My mother pursed her lips.
‘It’s very sad that you don’t believe in soul mates, Dee. One day though, you might,’ the kettle whistled and my mother set about making tea. The atmosphere in the room cooled and I knew that the argument was over. Just like that, my mother had said her piece and was satisfied with having the last word. Now she would act like nothing had happened and go back to what she did best, keeping up appearances.
I walked into the front room to find Jack and my father deep in conversation about cars, and Tom sat across the room playing on his phone. My heart groaned with disappointment. How could I like Jack now? When my parents seem to love him so much already? And Tom? Why could he not just act like the fun, likeable, polite Tom that I adored. How did he change into this sullen, fiercely protective, and ever so boring person? I needed to put the guy out of his misery and end whatever it was we started. This wasn’t working. As for Jack, he was just a crush. Nothing more.
I announced that the scones were ready in the kitchen and invited the men to walk through. Tom bounced to his feet by my side and I led him to the kitchen where my mother was setting serviettes out on the breakfast table around the two cake stands. I sat down next to Tom, who was joined by my father and mother, and Jack sat down in the empty seat on my other side. My mother gave me a pointed look of approval, and I felt the heat rise to my face in embarrassment. Tom sparked up a conversation with my mother as I reached for a scone at the same time as Jack and his forearm brushed against mine for a moment. I giggled helplessly as Jack apologised quickly. The touch sent tingles down my arm and left me dizzy. I glanced up at my mum and noticed her eyes glint knowingly as she listened to Tom. I looked over to Jack who gave me a quick smile in return. The dimple in his cheek sent me irresistible urges to kiss it. I mentally shook myself and looked back at my mother, who was still staring at me. I bit my lip and looked apologetically at her, with a guilty smile I gave a slight nod. She grinned. I couldn’t deny it, she was right. I was completely smitten with the man sitting next to me. One of them, anyway.
CHAPTER THREE
The Break Up
I parked in the driveway outside my coach house and looked over at Tom who was leaning against the window asleep. His face was troubled, and his lips looked dry. I brushed strands of hair away from his eyes; it was coarse between my fingers.
My mother’s words haunted me as I watched him sleep. What was I doing, dating a revere
nd? What was he doing, dating me? I had never been to church in my life. I liked the idea of God, but religion was not a part of my day to day routine. It was something I appreciated was in the world, and that people followed their own religion. But I followed fiction and took little notice in what the world had to offer me to believe in. I was fairly certain that things could not move into that direction for Tom and me – he was a friend. A very kind, sensitive, friendly-friend. But he was not a lover and he was not a future husband. I pushed on his arm and called his name.
‘Wake up, we’re back,’ I said softly. Tom mumbled slightly and rubbed his eyes.
‘I don’t remember falling asleep,’ he murmured. I rolled my eyes with a smile.
‘Funny that, I never remember falling asleep either,’ I said lightly. Tom looked at me with a wry smile.
‘You’re funny,’ he stated. We climbed out of my tiny Corsa and walked around the car to each other. Tom stroked my arm; his touch had a numbing effect on me. I took his hand and stepped away a little.
‘Do you want to come in? I want to talk to you about something,’ I tried to avoid the cliché ‘we need to talk’ speech, but it was surprisingly difficult to stay away from. Tom shrugged his shoulders and followed me inside the house. I led him up the steps and sat on the small couch in the lounge, waiting for him to join me. Tom rounded the corner and sat down, his knee resting on the couch as he laid back against the armrest.
‘I’m exhausted,’ he sighed. ‘I didn’t expect your parents to keep us for so long, what time is it? It’s got to be late.’ I looked at my phone; it was just after 10pm. After an awkward conversation over tea and scones. My parents had us go out to the beach for the afternoon, followed by a meal at the local pub. Jack slipped me his card as he was about to leave, ‘Just incase you ever need an accountant,’ he whispered with a wink and cheeky grin. The card burned in my hands as I tucked it into my jeans pocket. My heart pounded in my chest as my thoughts wandered over to Jack. I swallowed and looked at Tom, who was looking at me, reclined against the sofa with his arms over his head.
‘I thought it was weird that your parents had their accountant join us all day,’ he said suddenly. It was obviously something he must have wanted to say all day.
‘Listen Tom,’ I began carefully. The tone of my voice made him sit up seriously, and he started to speak at lightening speed.
‘I heard your mum talking to you in the kitchen - well we all did really. You both were quite loud -’ I froze in horror. Of course, my mother and I could get carried away when we argue, but I had never once guessed that anyone had overheard our conversation. Jack heard us, how embarrassing. Once again, my thoughts were immediately directed to Jack.
‘-I need to tell you something, and I hope you understand. This might be difficult to listen to - and to accept, but you need to know - especially if it changes how you feel about - about us,’ stammered Tom. I looked at his face searchingly. His eyes were staring imploringly at me as he spoke in the most pleading, genuine tone.
‘Alright,’ I said hesitantly. Tom cleared his throat and took my hands in his; they were moist with sweat.
‘I’m not a Reverend,’ he started. His words sank like rocks into the pit of my stomach.
‘Excuse me?’ I cried out, sitting away from him in shock. Tom wiped the sweat off his upper lip and shifted his weight. ‘I’ve been desperate for work, It’s this economy you see, hardly any jobs and so many applicants,’ he explained. I listened to him, biting the insides of my cheek as he spoke.
‘The position came up for a supply teacher at Clifton High, but the requirement was to be a Reverend,’ he coughed and looked at me with guilt in his grey eyes.
‘Obviously not many people could apply for that role, and I was confident that I could do well, if given the chance. I had no idea it would become more long-term and I didn’t expect to meet you. But if I told you the truth too early, I was worried you would tell the school - and then I would lose my job - and my credentials,’ he continued. I swallowed the lump in my throat and stared at him unbelieving. Tom surveyed my expression and cradled my face in his warm hands.
‘We can be together; we don’t have to worry about anything at all, there’s no reason we can’t keep what we have. I love you Dee,’ Tom said softly, and with that he planted a fierce kiss on my lips. His breath was spicy, and his dry lips were uncomfortable against mine. I leaned back and broke contact with him; my face screwed up in anger. Well, this made things a lot simpler. Not only was Tom not a Reverend, he was a con artist! What else was he lying about? How could he be such a good actor? Was that why I was suddenly entranced by him during our date? Were his words even genuine? Or was it all lies to get what he wants? Or - who he wants? The thought sickened me. I didn’t even know who he was.
‘I was going to say that I wanted to keep things casual, be friends, you know,’ I said through gritted teeth, my eyes brimming with tears. The humiliation of it all was too much to handle.
‘Now I learn that the very part of you that I was drawn to, is a total farce! You’re perfect speeches were found off the internet, were they?’ I said acidly. What an insult! I stood up. Tom shook his head quickly, shocked at my behaviour.
‘No, no, I really am a good person, I’m still Tom, I’m just not a Reverend,’ he said, his eyes welling up as he pleaded with me to understand.
‘I can’t be with you, we can’t be together, you’re too intense, and for goodness sake, you’ve been lying to me the entire time! I just can’t even be anywhere near you,’ I cried out, tears were running down my cheeks. ‘Oh, and I took you to meet my parents! And all this time I was trying to be nice to you and I could have been getting to know him!’ I ranted, now pacing the room. Tom stood up too,
‘Him? The accountant? I knew you were flirting with him! How could you do that? And right in front of me too!’ he said.
I pointed my finger at him angrily. ‘Don’t turn this around on me, I didn’t do anything wrong,’ Tom shook his head darkly and tore off the white collar round his neck.
‘Forget it, all I wanted to do was to make you happy, it seems that it’s impossible,’ he muttered as he stormed out of the room and down the stairs. I stood shaking on the spot with anger. My stomach was aching from my tight jeans and my head was throbbing from the pressure in my face. Suddenly, the front door slammed and after a few minutes I heard a car engine start up. Tom was gone. He was out of my life and good riddance to him too.
I unbuttoned my jeans and walked into my room, my mind racing with furious thoughts. How he must have been laughing at me all this time, cast under his spell. What was his game, anyway? Why was he so over the top and possessive? Did he really have any feelings for me? Or was it all part of the game? Perhaps he wanted to use my contacts at the school to secure him a long-term role? The thought made me tremble with hurt and shock. I went into the bathroom and splashed cold water over my face, rubbing my lips aggressively. Every part of me he touched was now contaminated by his lies. I felt dirty. What if we had just carried on dating and I let myself fall for him? What if we slept together, and then I found out about his lies? I sat on the cold bathroom floor, hugging my knees and cried violent sobs. My mother was right, again. I didn’t know what I was doing. I had no idea. One thing I did know though, I escaped a lot more hurt this time round. Things could have become a lot more difficult had we been more romantically involved. I brushed the tears away from my cheeks with the palms of my hands and made a promise to learn from this experience. I would not allow myself to sleep with a man until I felt truly comfortable with him. That I knew him inexplicably and he was honest and open with me, leaving no leaf unturned. I’d wait until we were married if I had to. I would not be made the fool again.
As for Tom, I took out my phone and found his name in the list of contacts. A shaking finger hovered over the ‘delete contact’ button as I bit my lip. The memories of our mornings in the coffee shop flashed across my mind’s eye, his tender smile and kind-nature, the low
laugh he made at my banter and the way he seemed to make everyone around him feel good and motivated to be better. The girls adored him at school, his sermons at assembly were looked forward to. He may not be a real Reverend, but he was doing everything a reverend would do – except, of course, lying about his true identity to everyone. I couldn’t imagine a Reverend doing that. Then there’s the fact that he became so deep and personal, overly affectionate and possessive so quickly that troubled me. Perhaps I was starting to see the real Tom through the cracks of the mask he was wearing. Perhaps everything I liked about Tom was a mere idea, and that was why I would feel repelled by him whenever we kissed.
But what if his story was true? What if he really was just a nice guy who was desperate for work? People do crazy things when they are desperate. It seemed plausible that someone would lie on their resume about a past job or experience. But to impersonate a Reverend? It was a mockery! The bottom line was, I didn’t know who he was. I couldn’t know, not when he’s been pretending all along that he was someone he wasn’t. His name might not have even been Tom for all I knew. Tom who? With that thought, I pressed ‘delete’ and stood up in the bathroom, looking at the tear-stained woman staring back at me with a resolute expression on her face. I needed to delete the man from my life. So, I did.
Well, I tried to at least.
CHAPTER FOUR
A New Woman
When a single woman experiences a shock, or an emotional upset. It is common to feel the need to revamp one’s image. Go to the salon and invest in a daring hair cut, adopt a puppy or buy a new outfit. Unfortunately, money was not in big supply, so all I could afford was a tub of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream and a movie on Netflix. The following evening had me sat on the floor in the lounge, blanket and ice cream to hand, watching The Lakehouse for the third time that day. The movie was about two people separated by space and time who were destined to be together. They wrote letters to each other using the same post box which they owned at some point in their life. He was two years behind her, which made an intriguing storyline. But there were moments in the movie where they meet for a brief time, at some point in her past. The timing was never right, not until it was seemingly too late – and then they find themselves in each other’s arms kissing with the passion that had been building over the years that they were apart. It made me think about my ‘man’, my better half, my – I hesitated to think it – soul mate. He was out there in the world, he may have no idea yet, but he was going to fall hopelessly in love with me and after some time, he will beg me to marry him and we will have the most spectacular wedding in front of all our family and friends then have a house full of children and live happily ever after. Too much? Well, that is how you feel after you watch a movie like The Lakehouse.