Love Me, Crazy

by Laura Burton

  ‘Mrs. Callingham, I was telling the truth,’ I said in the most serious way possible. I stared at her intently, trying not to allow the shock and hurt come across in my face.

  ‘Well, after your little revelation to me yesterday, I went immediately to Reverend Pembleton’s brother and requested a personal meeting with him, explaining that we have had reason to suspect fraud and needed to see a copy of his death certificate,’ Mrs Callingham explained coldly.

  ‘I met with Mr David Pembleton, who was able to prove that his brother was Thomas Pembleton by presenting these two birth certificates. He also showed me a death certificate, stating that Thomas Pembleton died on Monday morning at 7:53 am. The cause of his demise was by drowning in the bath.’ I could not believe a word I was hearing. Yet I couldn’t help but feel impressed at the lengths Tom had gone to ensure that his secret was not found out.

  ‘Audrey Williams, you have caused the late Reverend Pembleton’s family a great deal of stress and upset. Not only that, but you have caused me and the school to suffer great embarrassment. This is simply unforgivable. Consider this meeting your two weeks’ notice, but we will not require you to come in again,’ her words hit me like a ton of bricks.

  ‘I’m… fired?’ I asked blankly, staring at her completely stunned. Mrs Callingham leaned forward and narrowed her eyes at me with a steely glare.

  ‘Yes, you are, and I don’t want to hear another word. The moment you leave these grounds, you are never to come again,’ she snapped.

  I shakily got to my feet, walking on auto pilot out of the door and down the staircase, clutching the softened pine banister as I went. The bottom steps creaked under my weight, I closed my eyes and held onto the feeling. This old school, with all its nooks and awkward hallways, was so full of history and I had grown to love every inch of it. My heart was broken. Not only did I lose my job, but I lost a part of my life. It was the first school placement I had since graduating from university, and I had imagined myself to follow the footsteps of many of the other teachers in the school who had stayed there for many years, building long-term friendships with the girls they teach and with their fellow teachers. Yes, I was not as integrated socially as I would have liked, but I was certain that when I became a full-time teacher, that the social element would come.

  I walked sadly down the driveway, my eyes darting around the grounds, taking in every last detail. From the electronic locks on the doors with the key codes to the row of laurel bushes dancing outside the drama hall. Jack was on the phone, facing away from me, he turned and caught a glimpse of the look on my face and quickly said,

  ‘Mate, I need to call you back,’ and put the phone in his pocket.

  ‘What happened?’ He asked when I got up to him. Then I burst into explosive, horrified tears of shock and grief. Tom had single-handedly ruined my life, or so I felt at the time. How could he be so selfish and cruel? I had done absolutely nothing wrong, yet I have been left feeling used, abused and mistreated in every way. How was I to get over this? It was too much, I collapsed into Jack’s arms, and he held me there, slightly awkward as he braced against my weight and tenderly brushed my hair out of his face.

  ‘Come on, not here,’ he said in a low voice as he coaxed me to the BMW parked by the school. He opened the passenger door for me and helped me inside. Then he hurried around the bonnet of the car and got in the driver’s side. He put his bag on the back seats and looked at me, his blue eyes stared at me with concern.

  ‘You need to tell me what happened in there,’ he said seriously. I wiped the tears off my cheeks and took a moment to catch my breath before I spoke.

  ‘I’ve lost my job,’ I whimpered. Jack stayed quiet, looking at me expecting me to continue. ‘I told them about Tom, about his lies, and they got a death certificate and a complaint from his family I guess… I don’t know how he’s done it, but he’s managed to convince them that he really is dead and that I’m a malicious liar,’

  ‘That’s outrageous,’ Jack remarked, looking down in thought. ‘It’s not too hard to forge a death certificate,’ he said, clearly thinking aloud. He looked up at me, his eyes open wide and honest.

  ‘I’ve seen him as well, I can go in and back you up,’ he offered reasonably. I shook my head, tears falling down my wet cheeks.

  ‘She won't believe anyone, as far as she is concerned, she’s seen enough evidence and she won't listen to another word about it,’ I explained, my chest felt tight as I spoke, and I felt a pressure headache rising the back of my head. Jack started the car and drove at speed; he looked to be deep in his thoughts as he navigated through the streets.

  I buckled my seatbelt quickly and gripped the edge of the seat as he negotiated a couple of corners in heavy traffic, not stopping for anyone. The wild car chase continued for several minutes, and I kept deathly silent, praying that where ever he was taking us, we would arrive at the destination safely.

  He parked up outside a hotel, I peered out of the car window and looked up at the multi-storey building. A doorman stood outside, dressed in a top hat and tails. Jack turned off the engine and got out of the car, walked around the bonnet to my side and opened my door.

  ‘Come on, we’ve got some planning to do,’ he murmured, holding out his hand for me to take. I unbuckled the seatbelt around me, held my bag close and looked up at him with uncertainty.

  ‘What are we planning?’ I asked, eyes wide. Jack looked surprised at my question as I took his hand and he pulled me to my feet. The car door closed behind me as I stood within a couple of inches from him. He smelt like sandalwood and spices. I looked at his eyes, they were clear, like windows into his soul.

  ‘I’m not going to just sit back and let that low life ruin your career like this, he is not getting away with it, what we are going to do is expose him for who he is –and what he is- but most-importantly, we are going to get your job back,’ he announced firmly.

  CHAPTER 7

  It’s not personal; oh wait, yes, it is

  Jack sat at the office area in the small hotel room and looking intently at his laptop screen, typing furiously on the keypad. I sat on the armchair by the window and looked out at the docks. The S.S. Great Britain sat in the water, next to a wooden boat. Endless traffic moved along the road below, and the sun was starting to move lower in the sky. A golden hue smothered the trees alongside the pavement, and even in the hustle and bustle outside, it looked like the world was moving on as usual. Completely unaware that mine had turned upside down. A thick knot sat in my stomach, and my chest ached with sadness. My handbag started to vibrate, I dug into it and pulled out my phone to answer it. My throat clammed up when I saw the number and recognised the last three digits.

  ‘Why are you calling me?’ I scowled into the mouthpiece. Tom’s voice seemed to show genuine concern,

  ‘I want to see how you are? I’m not giving up on you, Dee. I’ve been thinking about you a lot these past couple of days…’ Tom started saying, his words flowing skillfully and with ease. Jack looked up from his computer screen and stared at me with his eyebrows furrowed.

  ‘Is it him?’ he mouthed, I nodded in reply. He typed something on his laptop and turned the screen to me as I listened to Tom singing my praises and offering his apologies. The writing on the laptop said;

  Don’t get mad. Don’t tell him you’re with me. Ask him where he is and tell him you want to see him.

  I stared at Jack in shock; he nodded to encourage me to do it. I cleared my throat and interrupted Tom’s monologue,

  ‘Where are you, Tom? I want to see you,’ I asked, trying not to sound like I was talking through gritted teeth.

  ‘I’m not far away, shall I come to your house?’ he asked, anxiously. I glanced over at Jack who was watching me expectantly.

  ‘No, I’m still in town,’ I said carefully.

  ‘Well, where are you right now? I’ll come to you,’ Tom said quickly. I looked over to Jack panicked.

  ‘He won't tell me where he is, he wants to come to meet
me,’ I whispered to Jack as he rubbed the back of his neck with a dark expression on his face.

  ‘The coffee shop,’ he whispered back. I nodded,

  ‘Shall we meet at the usual place? I can be there in half an hour,’ I asked, sounding far too chirpy for the situation.

  ‘Yes, that will be nice. I’ll meet you there soon, and Dee, I’m so glad you understand, I just know that we can work through this,’ Tom said before hanging up. I sat there, a mixture of nervousness and anger brewing inside my stomach. I looked at Jack hopelessly,

  ‘We have half an hour,’ I said blankly. Jack turned back to his laptop.

  ‘I’ve emailed a couple of friends, they will look into a few things for me, including this forged death certificate business. You need to clean up and be ready to probe some information out of him. As long as he believes that you are on his side, we have a chance of finding out how he managed all of this,’

  I stood up and walked over to the bathroom, but Jack caught my hand as I past him, he pulled me down to him and kissed my cheek, rubbing my hand with his.

  ‘You’re going to be alright, you know,’ he said softly. I smiled and leaded into his hand against my cheek.

  ‘I hope so,’ I whispered.

  We broke contact, and I went into the bathroom with my bag in hand. Then a slight gasp escaped my lips as I surveyed the woman standing in front of me in the mirror. I had dark rings around my eyes, making them look like panda eyes and mascara lines were down my cheeks. I had little red blotches around my nose and lips from crying, and my hair was frizzy on top. I laid out my hair and make-up supplies from my bag and set to work, fixing myself up.

  I washed my face and rubbed in some primer to even out my skin tone and create a smooth canvas for my make-up. After applying a little concealer over the dark patches under my eyes and around my nose and mouth, I saw an immediate improvement. At least, now I just looked pale, like a doll.

  I brushed on some powdered foundation to stop me looking so white and smoothed in a little blusher on my cheeks. My hands were trembling too much to put on any eyeliner, so I skipped that and just brushed a little mascara on my lashes. A touch of lip-gloss and a quick brush over my hair, and I looked good as new. My face did look a little artificial like I was ready to perform in a broadway musical. But I was expected to act like I didn’t want to kick Tom where it really hurt. So, in a way, my look was fitting. I only hoped that I didn’t lose my nerve.

  Jack knocked on the bathroom door, ‘Audrey, are you ready? We should be going…’ his muffled voice called through the door. I turned around and opened the door, he surveyed my face and smiled.

  ‘That’s much better,’ he said, his eyes twinkling. My heart swelled sadly, oh how differently this night would have been, if I had just said nothing to Mrs Callingham. I couldn’t direct all of my anger at Tom, if I had said nothing, Mrs Callingham would have had no reason to fire me. I was also to blame for not being able to keep my mouth shut about Tom being a Reverend to my mother, if he hadn’t felt the need to confess his deceit, then he wouldn’t have felt the need to do anything rash… like kill himself. Or kill off the character he was portraying, anyway.

  Jack walked me out of the hotel room and turned to me, his hands on my shoulders.

  ‘Do you know what you’re going to say?’ he asked carefully, eyeing me with concern. I nodded.

  ‘I’ll listen, mostly. Tom likes to talk, so he should just blurt it all out to me if I stay quiet,’ I confessed. We took the stairs down to the lobby and walked together out into the street. Jack drove us to a parking area close to Park Street and pulled up alongside a nice Mercedes.

  ‘I like to park next to expensive cars, they’re less likely to be owned by people who will hit mine,’ he remarked, prompting a small laugh to escape my lips. ‘Find out where he is staying exactly, where he is working now and whatever you can,’ he reminded me firmly.

  I took a shaky breath as I got out of the car and walked alone towards the coffee shop along the road. My mind was racing, and my stomach was dancing with nerves. I couldn’t get my mind to register what was going on; everything happened so fast that I didn’t really know where I was or what I was doing. The world blurred around me, as I walked ahead with tunnel vision. I focussed only on walking. Hoping that Tom would lead the conversation and help with the rest. I got to the wooden door of the coffee shop and entered; the bell rang in the little shop and the woman at the counter greeted me with a cheerful smile.

  ‘The usual?’ She asked, I nodded to her, and she bustled around preparing my favourite hot chocolate with extra cream. The steaming cup sat on the counter for me, I handed a couple of pounds over to the woman and took the cup, walking with great care -willing my hands not to shake.

  The shop was quieter than I usually found it, with just a young woman, with long mousy blonde hair, flowing wildly past her shoulders. She was sat at a table in the far-right corner, typing on her laptop with a strained look on her face.

  I walked over to our usual meeting point, the table in the corner facing the front door and sat on the chair by the wall so I could see Tom come in. I set my hot mug on the table and took my jacket off. I felt a soft breeze float over my body which prompted me to look up at the ceiling; a wooden ceiling fan was spinning round above my head. I noticed two other ceiling fans in the shop and wondered how I did not notice them before.

  Suddenly, the bell rang, and my heart started to race as I jumped and looked down at the doorway. A couple walked in arm in arm, grinning and looking so cosy and blissful with each other. That could have been Jack and me. I frowned at the thought, wondering why the perfect romance didn’t exist in normal life. Why did other people, and their crazy moody swings have to get in the way?

  The bell rang again, this time a tall, skinny man walked in. He wore a trench coat, which looked out of place in the room of people in summer clothes. I spied a black collar under his coat and a black silk shirt and tie as well. It was a stark contrast with the beige coat that he wore. His straw hair was black and gelled to a side parting. But his nose and pointy features were the same. I squinted my eyes at him, he looked different, but it was definitely Tom.

  He walked over to me, ignoring the countertop and sat in the chair opposite me. He sat upright and marvelled for a moment.

  ‘I had forgotten how breathtakingly beautiful you are,’ he said in a silky tone. I forced a polite smile and tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said stiffly. Tom’s eyes bored into my body, trying to penetrate the wall of protection I put up around myself.

  ‘I see you’ve dyed your hair,’ I noted aloud, Tom patted his head bashfully with a guilty smile.

  ‘Do you like it?’ he asked, ‘I thought you would prefer it, you know, you seem to like men with dark hair,’ his words cut me inside as I realised he was talking about Jack.

  ‘I like men who are confident in their own skin,’ I snapped, then bit my lip. Careful Dee, you need to be nice to him. Tom’s smile disappeared.

  ‘My Mum is very sick. Since my Dad died, she has stooped into a well of sadness and will not let anyone in. She has pushed me away and no matter what I achieve, she reacts with disdain and disappointment. I thought that if I could be seen by the community as a successful, loving public figure of authority and respect, then my Mother would feel the same. Whatever you think I am, whatever I seem to be, I am this way because of her,’ he said seriously. I listened quietly with bated breath, longing for some information that would help me get my job back.

  ‘Do you have any real friends?’ I asked, looking at him pointedly, probing for an honest answer. Tom gave a slight shrug of the shoulders.

  ‘I had you,’ he said, in a hopeful voice, ‘I still have you, right?’ he asked, his grey eyes glistened in the light, wet with emotion.

  ‘I’m struggling to forgive you,’ I said honestly, Tom opened his mouth to argue, but I held up my hand, ‘But I understand that I am also responsible for the way things h
ave turned out,’ I continued. Tom closed his mouth. Clearly he had not been expecting to hear me take responsibility for my unlucky hand recently.

  ‘I’m sorry about your job, Dee,’ Tom said as he looked at the floor. ‘I can’t believe you told them though, what else was I supposed to do? Do you know what the implications would have been if they found out the truth?’

  ‘If they found out that you are a con man, you mean,’ I corrected him. Tom sat up straight.

  ‘I am not a con man,’ he said indignantly. ‘Everyone writes a few white lies on their resume, are you going to say that everyone else is a con-artist too?’ he asked, his chest puffed out. I raised my eyebrows at his logic. His perception was completely skewed.

  ‘I don’t lie,’ I said acidly, glaring at him. Hot anger bubbled inside of me, and I struggled to keep myself from slapping him hard on the cheek. Tom gave a slight smile.

  ‘No, you are honest and sweet-natured,’ he said fondly, his words were not expected and blew away my steam. He looked at me coyly. ‘I’ve not had a chance to meet someone so lovely and so – innocent,’ he continued. I looked down; it was like he was describing a child. I wasn’t a child.

  ‘You’re not like other women, especially career women,’ he said, leaning forward now. ‘You’re so feminine, and the way you walk drives me wild. I love that you look around at the buildings as you stroll along the paths when everyone else is rushing to get their destination – you, you take in the scenery. My Dee, you teach me to enjoy the journey,’ I focused on keeping my breathing steady and even, my eyes shot up at him as he spoke. I was not his Dee.

  ‘The way you dress and take care of yourself, you seem so comfortable in your own skin, not obsessing over your appearance,’ He continued in a silky voice. I wasn’t sure whether that was a compliment or not. His words were not giving me any information that I could use; I needed to think of a way to get him to admit something – anything would do.