Love Me, Crazy

by Laura Burton

  ‘What is your real name?’ I asked suddenly. Tom looked taken aback, as I cut through his flowery words of adoration.

  ‘My name is Tom,’ he answered firmly. I studied his expression, nothing about his face gave him away. Yet I couldn’t take that for anything; he was a good liar. He managed to convince me for weeks that he was someone entirely different.

  ‘Which bank are you working at now? How did you manage to pass their checks?’ I asked again. Listening to him was not getting me anywhere, I needed to force something out of him. Tom looked around furtively and shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

  ‘You don’t want to know those boring details,’ he said with a fake laugh. I stared pointedly at him.

  ‘What do you want from me?’ I asked sternly. Tom looked hurt.

  “I want to make you happy, to be the man who holds your hand and takes you out dancing. I want to be the man who kisses you every night, who drives you to all the places in the world. I want to be the man who makes you feel whole and invincible. I want to be yours,’ he said in a articulate, poetic tone. You’d think there were cameras rolling and he was the lead in a romance. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, his charm no longer worked on me.

  ‘You made me lose my job, that does not make me feel invincible, and you have humiliated me in front of my parents, that does not make me feel loved, how on earth do you think I would want to be with you now… after all you have done to hurt me?’ I cried, standing up. Tom stood up his nostrils flared as he looked at me defensive and tall.

  ‘I did not tell Mrs Callingham to fire you, that was her decision, what did you expect Dee? You thought I would raise my hands up and say, “oops, you got me!” let’s be realistic here. How could I take care of you if I’m in jail?’ I sat down again, he followed suit and became a little calmer and more controlled. I sat and waited, hoping that I had encouraged more honesty from him.

  ‘I’m earning more than enough money to take care of us, and our family,’ he began. I choked on my hot chocolate, choosing the wrong time to take a sip. Family? We were going to have a family, now? This was absurd.

  ‘Now, I know you are worried about losing your job, and you really do have a lovely way with the girls, but I want you to be at home with our children, you can educate them and not rely on public schools to brainwash their minds,’ he explained evenly. Now my nostrils flared, and I felt a stinging sensation build in my face as hot anger bubbled to the surface once more.

  ‘What are you saying?’ I asked sharply. Tom opened his trench coat and took out a small box. He laid it on the table between us and pushed it over to me. I took a shaking hand and picked it up, eyeing Tom suspiciously. When I opened the box, a platinum diamond ring was staring back at me. My whole body went cold and rigid as I took in the sight of the diamond. It was fairly modest in size, but it sparkled beautifully in the light. I looked up at Tom who was smiling at me. He reached and grabbed my hands; they were sweaty and trembling again.

  ‘Marry me, Dee. I promise to make you happy, to be honest with you and never, ever let you down again,’ he said earnestly.

  ‘Oh, my goodness!’ cried out the brunette at the countertop as she looked over to me, Tom had walked around the table and knelt down before me, holding my hand and waiting for my acceptance.

  ‘Ok,’ was all I could say. I was stunned. Completely and utterly taken aback and the only word to escape my lips happened to mean I accepted his proposal. Tom slid the ring onto my finger and grabbed my face in his hands, forcefully kissing me on the mouth. I let my body go limp and sat there waiting for it to end. Tom didn’t seem to notice my lack of enthusiasm and grinned at me.

  ‘I’m so glad, Dee. You don’t know just how much it means to me that you forgive me and accept me for who I am. I can’t thank you enough,’ he said in a rushed tone. Then his phone started to ring, he excused himself and looked at who was calling. He gave me a nervous look and said,

  ‘I have to go, I’ll call you tomorrow?’ and quickly left the shop, leaving me sitting on the sofa, with half a cup of cold hot chocolate and ring sitting on my wedding finger. The band was hot and burned into my skin. At least, it felt that way to me. A sick feeling of guilt rose in my stomach, and my head started thumping in pain.

  A few awkward moments passed as the brunette at the counter eyed me strangely, probably wondering why I hadn’t jumped up and dashed out of the shop after my new fiancé. Then I remembered that Jack was waiting for me in the car park nearby. I got to my feet and hurried out the door, not paying attention to anyone or anything around me.

  The Mercedes had gone when I walked up to the blue BMW sat in the car park. Jack was on the phone and typing away on his laptop sitting in the driver’s seat. I got in the passenger side, and Jack looked at me anxiously, promptly ended his telephone conversation and closed his laptop.

  ‘How did it go?’ he asked, anticipating some news. I stared at him, my eyes wide and still shocked.

  ‘He asked me to marry him,’ I said as I held up my hand to him, the little diamond glinted in the car light. Jack held my fingers and looked at the ring with care. His eyebrows raised high and mouth open to reveal the surprise.

  ‘Well, I didn’t expect you to accept,’ he said, sounding far too calm. His lack of dramatic response snapped me out of my state of shock and give him a hard look. ‘Is that all you’re going to say?’ I snapped, ‘What am I supposed to do, now?’

  Jack held my hand in his, the warmth of his skin against mine send tingles of pleasure through my body. I looked at his face, his chiseled face, and bright blue eyes staring back at me. Our eyes lingered on each other for a moment before he leaned into me and kissed me lightly on the lips. His nose touched my cheek as he held me close and I took in his natural scent. Everything about him made me want to surrender all my walls and let him in. The ring on my finger should have been given to me by him. Jack, my dear sweet, level-headed Jack. He had this amazing ability to keep me grounded and kept his calm in a moment of craziness. We held each other close, and Jack stroked my hair as he breathed deeply through his nose, soaking at the moment.

  Then Jack put his laptop on the back seat of the car and started the engine.

  ‘Let’s get you back to your car,’ he said softly. My heart ached with hurt, reflecting the sadness in his eyes. It felt like we had just shared a goodbye kiss. I supposed that Jack would not want to know me, not now that I had become engaged to a mad man.

  I sat there in silence as Jack drove the car through the streets towards Clifton. Once he parked up next to my little Corsa, I opened the passenger door and gave one more forlorn look at Jack. He touched my arm, and said,

  ‘I need to think about things, ok?’ I nodded sadly in response. Of course, I scared him off. How could he deal with all of this drama? Dating was not supposed to be this complicated. Any chance of us being together was diminished by the fact that Tom was not going to back down easily. He will always be in the way, and who knows what else he could do to ruin our lives? With a nod of acceptance, I softly said good bye to Jack and got into my car. I watched the BMW roll off into the distance and around a corner out of sight. Then I started the car and cried all the way home.

  CHAPTER 8

  Nobody Likes A Sore Loser

  I had nowhere to go the next morning, so when I woke up at the usual time to get ready for work, I stayed in bed and played with the engagement ring in my hands. I don’t know what it was that made me accept Tom’s offer. It certainly was not out of love and excitement. I couldn’t believe the difference between the forceful, uncomfortable kiss he gave me and the tender, passionate kiss of farewell I shared with Jack. What was wrong with the world? What was the plan now? I wouldn’t marry Tom -I couldn’t! But perhaps with this new commitment, I could somehow get hold of the fake death certificate, or his real passport… and then if I presented it to Mrs Callingham, she would apologise and even offer me a teaching role in the school to make up for her grave misjudgement?

  Being engaged
didn’t mean marriage necessarily. It was not uncommon to have couples live together engaged but never marry. Engagement in those days were more like a sign of a couple’s plan to marry, but often never something they got around to actually doing. As for Jack, it couldn’t be the end. How could he admit defeat so easily? Doesn’t he know that no one likes a sore loser? Did he really believe that I had changed my mind, fallen in love with Tom and truthfully accepted his proposal? Was he mad? I couldn’t let it go, I needed to talk to him, tell him how I feel, and somehow convince him that he is the one I want. But he needed time to think, and I needed time to work out how I was going to avoid being physically intimate with Tom and yet earn his trust enough to see his apartment or where ever it was that he lived. And how would I get away with it, once I expose the truth to Mrs Callingham and she believes me? How would he retaliate? Would he kill himself for real? Would he do something stupid? Could I find myself in danger?

  The worrisome thing about Tom and the situation that I found myself in, was that Tom was an exceptionally good liar and worked unpredictably. He seemed to possess multiple personalities which made him extremely difficult to read. Who knows if his story about his mother was the truth or not. I needed to work this out in my mind, but I needed help. My mother’s voice entered my head, you have no idea what you’re doing. I silently agreed. I needed someone to give me some perspective, someone who wasn’t closely involved and had wisdom to shed a little light on what I am supposed to do. I knew what I had to do. It was time to call my parents.

  ‘Hello darling Dee, how are you?’ my mother's high voice sang through the speaker. I smiled slightly at the sound of her chirpy voice. Oh, how nice it would be to have a nice normal day which would result in having a positive attitude and never dreading the phone ringing. I remember I used to have days like those. How my life had changed in just a matter of days.

  ‘Mum, I need your help,’ I said dully. My mother kept her silence, waiting for me offload all my concerns to her and ready to explain why my worries were menial with a painstakingly easy solution of which I was too immature and naïve to see for myself.

  ‘It’s been a hellish week, Mum. I don’t even know where to start.’ I took a deep breath. ‘Tom overheard our conversation in the kitchen,’

  ‘Oh, so he didn’t like my thoughts on my daughter dating a reverend?’ my mother asked, her voice sickly sweet, clearly enjoying this, sounding pleased with herself.

  ‘No, he confessed to me that he was impersonating a reverend. He’s not even remotely religious, it seems.’ I explained.

  ‘Oh,’ was all that my mother would say. I took the opportunity to continue before she interrupted me again.

  ‘He lied to get the job, and we had a big fight about it. Well, I went to work on Monday morning, and he called me, begging me not to tell the school. I was determined to tell the headmistress but waited until after the school assembly.’

  ‘What did she say, when you told her that she hired a fraud?’ My mother asked, her voice now intrigued and serious.

  ‘I didn’t have a chance to tell her, not before she announced to the school that “due to a tragedy, reverend Pembleton passed away” that morning!’ I shot out quickly, my breath quickening. My mother gasped in response.

  ‘He’s dead? He was so concerned about the truth coming out that he killed himself? Oh, Dee! I’m so - ‘

  ‘No, that’s not all,’ I intercepted. My mother stopped short, horrified.

  ‘He faked his death. He got someone to call, posing as a brother and inform the school that he had died that morning,’ I said quickly. ‘How do you know this,’ my mother asked quietly.

  ‘Because after school, he came to see me,’ I replied in a thin voice. Reliving it all was just as distressing as when it happened in the first place. ‘He said that he now works in a bank, mum, he’s dyed his hair black, changed his clothes and even the way he acts is like a different person.’

  ‘He sounds like he’s not quite right in the head,’ My mother stated in a detached voice. I couldn’t disagree- what kind of person, in their right mind, would go around lying about their identity and fake the death of their alter ego. Thinking about it made my head hurt. ‘But Mum, you know Jack,’ I started carefully, Mum’s voice was now bright and excited.

  ‘Oh yes, have you seen him since?’ she asked, anxious to hear my news.

  ‘Yes, yes. He took me to a party, and we were dancing -’ I began, but then my mother burst out with one hundred questions. Did he smell nice? What was he wearing? Was he a gentleman? Do you like him? Will you date him again? And so, and so forth.

  ‘I think he’s wonderful,’ I confessed, smiling to myself. ‘We just… we work well together. He keeps me grounded, and yet he’s so adventurous. I love the way he can simultaneously make me feel like my heart is racing and my body relax despite whatever stress I’m going through,’ My mother listened to me talk about Jack fondly and murmured her approval.

  ‘I knew he would be good for you, Dee,’ she said confidently. I rolled my eyes; it was the old “I told you so,” talk.

  ‘So, when is the wedding?’ She joked, which brought me rudely back to reality and made me look at the ring on my left hand. It felt like a heavy weight on my slender finger.

  ‘Actually mum, I am technically engaged,’ I said slowly, cringing as the words came out of my trembling mouth.

  ‘That was quick! Oh, Dee, well it’s your life, I do think it’s a little soon to be making that sort of life-changing decision, especially with someone you do not know very well. I mean, darling, I know Jack is lovely, and it does sound like he’s your match made in heaven, but think about this seriously, have you met his family? Do you know anything about him, at all? There’s more than physical attraction to think about in these scenarios,’ My mother reeled off her advice.

  ‘I’m not engaged to Jack, mum.’ I butt in. My mother fell quiet.

  ‘What do you mean?’ She asked, baffled. I swallowed nervously, not wanting to say it aloud. If I said it aloud, then it meant that it was really happening, and I wasn’t ready to admit that it was real. I was going to marry Tom. Or at least, I said that I would. Which was just as bad, in my view.

  ‘Tom asked me to marry him,’ I blurted out as quickly as possible. My mother gasped loudly over the phone, and I heard something clanging to the floor. ‘Are you okay?’ I asked quickly. My mother apologised,

  ‘I dropped a pan. Audrey Williams, why are you engaged to the crazy con-artist and not to the genuine, loveable accountant? Have you gone mad?’

  ‘I love him. I can barely breathe with all the emotion sitting on my chest. All I want to do is spend every day of the rest of my life with him,’

  ‘Listen to yourself, you are not in love with this man, you do not know who he truly is, honestly, Dee, this will not be the first time that he’s impersonated someone, people don’t just wake up and decided to pretend to be a reverend one day,’ My mother said seriously. My eyes welled up as she talked, I shook my head to her words.

  ‘No, not Tom. I don’t want anything to do with him; it’s Jack that I want. I can’t even bare the thought of not seeing him again,’ I gushed.

  ‘Dee, you’re not making any sense,’ My mother cut in, her voice stern and full of confusion.

  ‘You are in love with Jack, but you’re engaged to Tom?’ she asked incredulously. I agreed. ‘What is going on inside that head of yours, I’ll never know!’ she ranted.

  ‘I told Mrs Callingham that Tom is a fraud, that reverend Pembleton didn’t really exist and that Tom was very much alive and had lied about his identity,’ I said quickly.

  My mother sounded curious. ‘And what did she do?’ she asked, probably hoping that my new fiancé was now locked up in jail or something.

  ‘She fired me,’ I said in a glum voice. My mother started screeching down the phone, planning to call the school and complain, insisting that they reinstated my job.

  ‘She saw Tom’s “brother” face to face and has a copy
of the death certificate,’ I explained steadily. There was far too much information to reveal. ‘Apparently I caused great embarrassment to the school, and so, she fired me today,’ I finished. My mother stayed quiet for a minute or two, probably surprised that for once I presented her with a problem that was more complicated than the high school, “he likes her, but she likes someone else,” kind of thing. This required a whole new level of problem-solving.

  ‘Wait, why are you engaged to Tom again?’ my mother asked, distracted by the absurdity of the situation.

  ‘Jack and I planned to get more information out of Tom, something we could use to expose him and get Mrs Callingham to see that I was telling the truth. Unfortunately, the plan backfired, and Tom asked me to marry him. I didn’t get anything out of him that would be useful, so I figured that if we were engaged, I would have access to his personal belongings or at least find something useful.’ My mother made a noise of frustration and sighed.

  ‘Dee, I know that it’s horrible what this con man has done to you, I know you loved that school with all your heart, and it will be terrible to have to find somewhere else to work. But darling, there are other schools to teach, and please take my advice,’ My mother started seriously, I held onto every word she spoke.

  ‘Let it go,’ she said firmly, ‘Go after your lovely man Jack, and forget this other one, block his calls, don’t see him, don’t talk to him, don’t try to expose him, he will get what’s coming to him one day, but my sweetheart, I do not want you in the middle of that. Please just tell him you didn’t know what you were thinking, give the ring back and cut him off.’

  ‘You should have seen the look on Jack’s face when I showed him the ring, mum, it was horrible,’ I said sadly.

  ‘I’m really serious Dee; please let it go. The only person you are hurting is yourself,’ My mother said in her “I know what’s best” motherly tone. The difficulty was, I could not argue with her. Deep down inside, I knew that she was right. I knew that despite everything I had been through, I needed to cut my losses, learn my lessons and move on. ‘Ok, thanks mum, I’ll call you when this is all sorted out,’ I said with a sense of finality in my voice.